Little Watson study, done in two short sessions

Watson in the candlelight.

First Dream:  I was in my aunt's trailer, on vacation with my family in the Vermont hills.  I was looking forward to getting much reading and even some writing done, and to enjoying peace and quiet amidst nature (I even saw some bees buzzing around the yard).  Mother had other plans however and told me I was invited to attend a huge garden party, and it would be quite rude to refuse the invitation.  I complained--how was I supposed to maintain idle conversation for hours on end with complete strangers?!  I wanted to relax, not suffer interminable small talk!

Just when I was about to start a row, who knocked on our camper door but Watson, in full Victorian fashion and his journal under his arm.  He doffed his top hat, politely introduced himself to my mother and brother and asked if he was intruding upon our vacation.  I smiled and rushed to the door to shake my dear friend's hand.  The party wouldn't be so bad if he was there...and who knows, I thought to myself, we were strangers to the area, we might get lost along the way...

Second Dream:  I was Watson, running through a busy Victorian London evening at full-tilt. I was younger, with no Jezail bullet hurting my shoulder, no leg injury to make me limp, no walking stick or sudden weather change to slow me down or pain me.  Part of me wished I could fully enjoy the utter thrill of flying through the city like a parkour master, but there was a horrible reason I was running:  Holmes had been possessed by a demon, and it was trying to escape with Holmes as its hostage.  But even though Holmes knew London far better than I did, and the demon had full access to Holmes' memory, I still managed to overtake it with my desperate speed and trapped it in an alleyway.

I knew the exorcism spell, the words that would free Holmes, and the demon knew I knew it as well.  Seeing there was no way out, the demon flashed a smile.  It was the same smile Holmes used when he knew he had his man, and woe betide the unwitting villain who crossed the sleuth-hound.  But with his eyes deadened and pitch-black, that same confident smile looked utterly monstrous.