A Persistence of Parturation

A Persistence of Parturation.

by Darklady

Pairing: Holmes/Watson

Rated: G (Unless one is totally slash-a-phobic )

Disclaimer: Copyright? Ha! It's expired! As have our hero's. *grin* But I can play with them anyway!

Archive: Ask Peja. I'm sending it as a gift to her, so she can do whatever she wants with it.

Dedicated: To the new grandson. May he have the wisdom of Holmes, the kindness of Watson, the success of Doyle, and the good fame of all three.

A Persistence of Parturation
by Darklady

"John Watson." The angelic voice echoed though the realm of golden light. "It is time."

A white light - both gate and guide - opened at a adjacent infinity.

"Time?" A hawk nosed ghost of a man looked up from his cloud-based chair. He was incongruously clothed in an outline of an antique smoking jacket rather then the more orthodox white robes.

"To go." A slightly shorter wraith answered from an adjacent wisp. While a certain translucence made detail imprecise, his posture alone was enough to convey an aura of frock-coated formality.

"So early, John?" The tall ghost looked at he bright rectangle, as if searching for some revelatory detail in the every shifting artifact of light. "I had thought..."

"Indeed, my dear Holmes." John Watson floated over. "I too thought we would have more time - but it seems my new mother has taken it upon herself to rush things."

"Your medical opinion?"

Watson snorted - amused, not offended. Long acquaintance had surely instructed him in his colleagues manners - even as long affection had immured him against them. So he replied quietly .
"Surely you must trust I leaned *something* in my practice - even if it was not the near-magic they practice down there today."

"Ah, John." Sherlock Holmes melted, in voice and also in presence,his once sharp phantom blurring as it streamed out towards the other. "You were a healer in more then just profession."

The two lights touched for a long silence.

When they parted, Holmes asked. "You are quite sure you want to do this?"

"To hold you again?" Watson reached out with translucent arms. "Sixteen years of childhood is no price at all.

Holmes slid across - then through them. "Agreed."

There was a another silence, broken this time by Watson.

"Sherlock?" He said as their clouds parted. "When you come down? This time use that great mind of yours and be a bit wiser in your choice of parents."

That earned a rare dry chuckle. "They may not have been the warmest of parents, but had I chosen otherwise I should not have met you." At such a consideration, both his gaze and his
voice deepened to solemnity." Believe me, dearest John. Your affection was well equal to any number of devoted kindred."

"You are the sage, so I shall not debate you." the good doctors expression contradicted his words, providing all the disputation such a comment deserved. "Still, this time you must try for both Eros and Fillos."

Holmes raised his friends single hand with both of his, wrapping the spectral palm in fingers of mist. "This time we shall both have delightful childhoods - and an even happier maturity." A wry
smile crossed the deep etched features. "I have his word on it."

Watson's answering grin was broader, as suited his more open nature, although they both knew it could be no more heartfelt. He raised the clasped hands to his lips, brushing air-soft lips over
the phantasm skin. "Goodbye, my dearest friend." Without turning - for spirits have no need - he started towards the door to his destiny.

"No." Holmes insisted as they spun apart. One again up, and one towards the waiting light. "Merely fare well.

"Oh, Sherlock." Watson hesitated on the brink. "What if I never find you again?"

"You?" This time the chuckle was an open laugh. "Please! John!" The tall ghost straightened to even greater height. "I *am* the worlds greatest detective. Most surely it is I who will find you."