A band of traveling players at a provincial Scottish inn and a night of ghost stories and diverse interludes leads to intimacy between two chance met strangers.
Tommy Gregson comes at once in response to Holmes' voice mail, but takes his time after.
John reads his fate in a fortune cookie, and finds it between a reality and a dream.
On a cold grey November day, Joe Dawson arrives at MacLeod's loft to be introduced to an old Christmas tradition.
The Turkish baths in Jermyn Street are open all night, and for one-and-six a man may come as close to godliness - or something very like it - as is possible in this work-a-day world.
On a cold, raw night Holmes invites Watson to meet an old friend of his.
Holmes and Watson are called in on the hunt for Jack the Ripper. It's a slice of classic Sherlock Holmes and a bit of Ripper Street, salted with the merest soupçon of Lovecraft. A word to the wise—Jack the Ripper—if you can't do the crimes, don't do the time.
There has always been something otherworldly about the Holmes boys.
Light is shed on the confrontation between Gregson and Holmes in the bar.
The Marchioness has gone, leaving Mycroft and Sherlock to share a few affectionate observations.
Holmes wants it, now, but Gregson is not putting out.