AN: This is the sequel to Harder To Breathe and The Broken Man. I'm overwhelmed by the response I have gotten from both stories. This was only meant to be an epilogue, but I'm making it into a story in its own right. I hope I do it justice for fans of the previous two. Here it is...

"Smiling though we're close to tears, even after all these years, we just now got the feeling that we're meeting for the first time." The Script.


John had found it eerie at first, and then the eeriness faded into a dull comfort. Of course, he knew that it wasn't all the time (that would have been really weird!) but at intermittent moments he'd feel a set of eyes watching. He'd look up from a newspaper, or glance around on an escalator. He never caught him at it. Of course he didn't. He was Sherlock Holmes.

It made John want to leave the house again. Whether it had been dull, rain-sodden passers-by or people going about their daily lives in the hazy sunshine, John took care to study each face that passed him. One day, he would see him. One day, he would meet Sherlock Holmes again ... But what then?