“Does Sir Locke mind that we eat before him?” I asked as I readied a tray of breakfast food to take up to our employer. We’d already eaten, which had been strange to me. At my last posting, we weren’t permitted to eat until after the family was finished with their meal, and we’d cleared it all away.

“No, of course not! The poor man wouldn’t remember to eat if we didn’t bring it up to him, so I doubt that he even notices that we eat before him, not that he would care.” Mrs. Hudson told me, shaking her head. “Sometimes I worry for him…but it’s no matter. Take his food on up, dear, it’s ten o’clock, and he’s accustomed to getting breakfast around that time! And remember, knock three times, wait five minutes, and if he doesn’t answer or come to the door, come back down because he’s not going to answer if he hasn’t after five minutes. You don’t want to distract him, that would annoy him greatly, I think. Anyways, off you go!”

The tray was a little heavy, but I managed to get all the way up to the third floor easily enough. Then I ran into the problem of how I was going to knock on the door, as the tray took both hands to carry. I started to panic, and made the swift, perhaps a little rash, decision that magic was necessary. After all, it wouldn’t be noticeable…so surely it was okay.

Pulling for my magic, I levitated the tray, and lifted one hand from it, keeping hold of it with the other, and knocked on the door three times, and then took hold of the tray with both hands once more, ceasing my magic use immediately.

After a minute or so, the door opened.

“Who on earth are you?” Sir Locke asked, blinking, clearly confused.

My first impression of him was of a man of average height. He had a thin build that made him seem taller than he was. My employer’s nose was thin, and slightly aquiline. Unkempt black hair paired well with a pair of sharp, dark eyes that betrayed a deep intelligence, though they were momentarily filled with slightly annoyed confusion. Something about his eyes seemed oddly familiar, although I couldn’t place where I’d seen them before.

“J-Joan Watson, s-sir, I’m your new maid. Mrs. Hudson hired me to help out around the house.” I stammered, curtseying, a little intimidated by my new employer. That wasn’t a surprise, though, I’d expected to be intimidated.

Sir Locke blinked, and then seemed to remember, “Ah, yes. That’s right. She did say something about possibly hiring someone new.”

“Yes, sir.” I nodded, trying to stop stammering, and held out the tray to him. “Your breakfast, sir.”

“Indeed.” He said, looking down at it, but didn’t take the proffered tray. Instead, he studied me thoughtfully for a moment. “So, you were a healer in the king’s army then, yes? The desert, specifically, I believe.”

“Sir?” I blinked, not sure how he knew that about me.

“You were a doctor, am I correct? A military doctor just returned from the desert a few months ago, two at most…lost the job you were able to get right out of your posting, which was as a maid as well…very interesting…But should I call you Dr. Watson then, eh?” A flash of amusement passed across his face.

“I-if you wish, sir.” I stammered, no clue how he knew all that.

“But am I right?”

“About what?”

“Your experience as a military doctor, and your last job?” he asked, clearly a little annoyed that he had to explain.

“What? Oh, yes sir…” I was thoroughly confused, and more than a little uncomfortable that he knew so much about me without having been told, as Mrs. Hudson had said, just that morning, she hadn’t actually spoken to him in a few days. “H-how do you know all that? I-I didn’t think Mrs. Hudson had spoken to you recently…”

“The remnant of your tan couldn’t be from anything else, no one goes to the desert for anything but military purposes, the government is very strict about that.” He explained, seeming pleased that I’d asked. “And your hands have the calluses of a doctor, as well as those of a maid. As to the knowledge of your recently lost job, I’m familiar with how a whip-mark looks when scarred and healing, and I see just the tip of one creeping from beneath your collar on the back of your neck there. But how did you come to be whipped? There’s no more slavery in Averah, at least, not by that actual name anymore, so you weren’t technically a slave. That leaves the next best thing, which is a servant with a cruel master. Judging by your age, looks, size, and that you’re working as a maid here now, I’d say you were a maid in a well-to-do house in your last posting. I suspect from the limp that I discern in your bearing, that you’re somewhat clumsy on your feet. A particularly hard-hearted master would grow almost immediately enraged if your lack of coordination caused accidents, which I’m certain it did. There was finally one accident too many, and you were whipped and fired for it.”

I shifted the tray uncomfortably, as it was getting very heavy. “Er, yes sir…”

“I’ll take that.” A surprised look had fluttered across his face as I shifted the tray. “And…capable of magic too? Very interesting indeed…” He observed mildly.

I felt the blood drain from my face, and my hands started to tremble. “Wh-what, s-sir?”

“You’re a mage, aren't you?” Sir Locke said, setting the tray inside his room, out of sight.

“W-well, yes sir.” I stammered, not wanting to lie to him, as he had clearly figured my secret out somehow. “How…how did you know that?”

“It’s my business to know things. But you’re still young, I think.” He said, not answering my question and studying me with his piercing, thoughtful eyes. “Still haven’t quite stopped aging yet, and though you’re around the age that human magic-users typically do, you look younger than you are, so you’ll probably stop aging in a couple more years or so.”

“How do you know all of this about me?! I didn’t tell Mrs. Hudson a-about my magic!” I asked, my voice trembling. What would happen now that he knew about me being able to use magic?!

The man’s voice took a somewhat calming tone, “There’s no need to be afraid, after all, it takes one to know one. And I’ve no doubt that Mrs. Hudson will welcome your magic. She welcomed mine, and I am her employer.”

“You can use magic too?” I asked, completely flabbergasted.

“Certainly, but I hide it well, better than you, I might add.” He tilted his head back and to the side a little, studying me.

“No one has ever figured that out about me before, especially not with just one look, sir.” I shook my head, not sure what to think anymore.

Sir Locke shook his head, seeming amused. “As I said, it takes one to know one, Dr. Watson. The tray you were carrying, you were fatigued from holding it for just a short while, among other things. Magicians are often used to levitating things instead of carrying them. And it would play into your skills as a doctor, able to use healing magic.”

“I-I…I guess.” I said faintly, surprised that he’d deduced my magic from such a subtle thing. Though it was true, I did try to levitate things when I could because why carry it if I could levitate it? I wondered what the other things were that he mentioned. And he’d been right about the fact that I could use healing magic. I was a good doctor without it, but I was fantastic with it, since I could take away pain when no one else could.

“Now run along, I’m busy.” He said briskly, disappearing into his study again.

“Yes sir.” I muttered before the door shut in front of me.

Walking slowly back to the kitchen, I wondered how on earth I got so lucky as to land a job where my employer was a magic user himself as well, and so therefore was accepting of mine. Of course, he still seemed entirely odd, and entirely too intelligent, perhaps, but if that was the worst problem I encountered while working for Sir Locke, then I was very lucky. Too much intelligence was welcome to me after having lived amongst such ignorance for so long, although I suspected that it could be difficult to live with someone who could know almost anything about you from just a glance.

Curious as to how Mrs. Hudson would take the information that I could use magic, I went back into the kitchen, making my mind up to tell her about it.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

But Mrs. Hudson spoke first, with a little chuckle, “You’re as white as a sheet, Dr. Watson!”

“What? Oh, I’m afraid so. But you can call me Joan, Mrs. Hudson.”

“Indeed! I’m sure that the state of your nerves can be attributed to meeting Sir Locke. What did he learn of you in one glance?”

“That I was a doctor in the army in a camp that was in the desert…and…and that I can use magic.”

Mrs. Hudson gasped, clapping her hands in delight. “Oh, another mage? How unusual! How wonderful!” She pretended to lock her lips, “Don’t worry, dear, your secret is safe with me! And indeed Sir Locke, he did tell you that he can use it as well, right?”

“H-he did.” I nodded. “I’m rather shocked, I must say.”

“I will admit, it’s such a wondrous coincidence, and perhaps a little strange, to have two human magicians in such close proximity!” Mrs. Hudson said thoughtfully, then shook her head, “But it’s no matter! It just makes life easier on all of us, I should think. I know that Gabriel does tend to use his magic in his cases.”

“Oh yes, Mr. Stemford did say that Sir Locke was some sort of policeman.” I said, curious about what my employer actually did.

Mrs. Hudson laughed, “He’s a might bit more than that! He’s the finest private detective I have ever seen in my entire life!”

“Private detective?” I was taken aback, but then things fell into place a little better in my mind. “I suppose that explains his deductions about me, then…he was very accurate, after all.”

“Indeed. The boy doesn’t miss a thing!” she said fondly, but then sighed and shook her head, “But I’m afraid you won’t see much of him to further test his abilities, aside from showing clients up to him, and taking him meals…”

“Clients?”

“Oh yes, and occasionally the Inspector, as he constantly needs dear Sir Locke’s help with cases that are particularly difficult…”

“What kinds of clients does Sir Locke have?”

“All kinds, some rich, some poor, some average. They all come with their own little mysteries, and Gabriel decides whether or not he wants to take on their problems or not. Although he has been doing more and more work with the Inspector as of late, apparently there’s been a rise in difficult cases…or maybe the Inspector has just realized that it’s better to have a case solved by Sir Locke than to let it sit unsolved by his own police work…Gabriel does always call them incompetent, but he shouldn’t be so mean about it, they simply can’t see everything that he does.” Mrs. Hudson confided in me.

“I see.” I said.

The doorbell rang, making me jump up, as it was part of my duties to answer the door. Running to the front hallway, I took a deep breath, and opened the door. The sight of an inspector in a long brown coat met my eyes. “Can I help you, sir?”

“Where’s Mrs. Hudson?” the inspector asked, looking confused. “Who are you?”

I sighed, “Sir Locke hired me to help Mrs. Hudson with the house. I’m Joan Watson, sir. Can I help you?”

“Oh, right…” the inspector blinked. “I need to see your employer, Ms. Watson, if you’ll let us in.”

“Yes sir.” I stepped aside and let him enter. “I’ll tell Sir Locke that someone needs to see him, whom shall I say is calling?”

“Inspector L’Strade.” The inspector said, sounding impatient.

“Wait here, sir.”

“Right, right.” Inspector L’Strade said, waving his hand edgily.

I hurried to the top floor, and knocked on Sir Locke’s door. “Enter.” I heard him call. I went in. The study was cozy, but a little cluttered, “What is it?” he demanded, sounding annoyed.

I rather quailed, “S-sorry to bother you, sir, but there’s an Inspector L’Strade to see you.”

“Show him up immediately…and next time he comes, doctor, please show him up immediately, he’s rather used to showing up unannounced at peculiar times.” he’d called me doctor without a hint of irony, which I appreciated.

“Yes sir.” I curtsied, and scurried off to show the Inspector up, finding myself back outside his door not a minute later, knocking once more.

The door immediately popped open. “Inspector, do come in. I see you’ve met Dr. Watson.”

“Doctor?” L’Strade looked at me, confused, as he walked into Sir Locke’s study.

“Yes, doctor.”

“She’s a doctor? Awfully young…”

“One must take what one can get, when it comes to good domestic help.” I heard him say as the door to the study swung shut.

That’s all I was, domestic help. Sure, being a doctor was great, and I was proud of it, but what good was my training if I never got to use it? After slowly descending the stairs, I started sweeping the front hall. This led to me getting rather pushed out of the way, sending my broom crashing to the ground, as Sir Locke and Inspector L’Strade bolted down the stairs, the former looking excited, and the latter determined, and perhaps a little weary. “Don’t get underfoot, Watson!” Sir Locke cried as he all but flew out the door.

L’Strade tipped his hat to me, and then followed behind the detective without another word.

“S-sorry, sirs!” I sighed, but inwardly was feeling rather hassled. After a moment, I retrieved my broom from where it lay, and started over with my sweeping with a little sigh, as their running through had ruined the work I’d done. It was no matter.

But suddenly, the door opened again, and Sir Locke’s mild voice addressed me. “You’re a doctor.”

I jumped, startled at the reappearance, “What? O-oh, yes sir.”

“You worked the medical tents?”

“That’s typically where they had need of me.” I told him, somewhat dryly, not sure what he was getting at.

“Diagnosing injuries and illnesses?” he wanted to know.

I was thoroughly confused, “That’s typically what healers and doctors do, yes. There was even the odd occasion we were actually able to treat our patients.” Sarcasm slipped once more into my voice, as I was a little annoyed. He had a case to work on, why was he bothering me?

“Were you any good?”

“I was the top of my class.” I told him.

“Getting good grades on a test is one thing, fieldwork is another entirely.”

I set aside the broom and crossed my arms, feeling somewhat defensive. “I’m a mage, sir. I could use magic to not only determine what was wrong with my patients, but I could usually get them healed much more quickly than any of the other healers. I was very good at what I did, sir.”

“Not to mention headstrong and fiery, not something exactly befitting of a maid.” He said without batting an eye, I felt a little guilty upon him pointing this out, as he was right, proper maids did their work without question, and never talked the way that I did to employers. It was just so difficult to hold my tongue. One moment I was basically running the camp’s medical tent, the next I was scrubbing floors...Then again, my position didn’t define me. Just because I was a maid didn’t mean that I had to completely bow to what society expected of me. I was still a human being with thoughts and emotions too. “Were you made the head healer?” he wanted to know.

I looked down, “No. They would never allow a woman to be the head healer, though not for lack of trying on my part. The man who was the head healer died because of his own stubbornness, he wouldn't let me help when I could have healed him. I should have had the position after him, but of course not. Then I broke my leg, and they decided that the limp that remained from it was enough to give me a medical discharge. They hadn’t even wanted to let me in as a doctor to begin with, and saw me as a troublemaker, since I had dared to question what they saw as the order of things.”

“And here you are now, working as a maid…” my employer said, eyes narrowed a little. Then he shook himself, “Leave the broom, Watson, and come along. I need the assistance of a doctor since there is a body to be examined.”

“Go with you, sir?” I blinked, completely surprised.

“Yes, come along.” Sir Locke said, motioning for me to follow him out the door. When I didn’t move, he sighed impatiently, “Quickly now, Watson!”

“Yes sir…but Mrs. Hudson…”

“She’s been running this house alone for longer than you’ve been alive, doctor, do come along, you’re holding us up!” the detective exclaimed, clearly impatient. Taking off my apron, I grabbed my coat and hat, and went out the door. “L’Strade went on ahead of us.” He explained as he flagged down a passing horse-drawn cab. “Climb in.” I obeyed without question, suddenly a little excited to be going out and doing something to help with a private detective’s case.

“Where are we going, sir?” I asked, once he was in the carriage.

“To a crime scene.” He said looking out the window as we raced through the streets

That wasn’t quite what I meant, but something told me that it was the most information I was going to get from him about location. “What kind of crime?” I asked.

“A suspected murder, if you must know.”

“That was my guess.” I shrugged, “You did say there was a body to be examined.”

“Quite. I trust that seeing a corpse will not cause you great distress?”

“Don’t worry about me, sir. I’ve seen enough death to last a lifetime.” I told him, feeling somewhat grim at the admission.

“And yet here we are, in a carriage, racing to see more.” He commented, waving a somewhat languid hand at our surroundings.

“I didn’t say the amount I’d seen was enough to last the lifetime of a human magician. My life will be long, so I can handle more death than the average person.” I sighed. “Besides, I'm a doctor, it comes with the territory, unfortunately.”

“While I do find your logic impressively faulty, I do not feel compelled to argue with it.” was his quiet reply, a ghost of a smile seemed to hang about his otherwise expressionless face.

“You have my immense gratitude, sir.” I muttered.

“Are you always this cynical?”

“I do, occasionally, find myself moved to brilliant cynicism, when the mood strikes.” I told him sarcastically. I wasn’t typically such a sarcastic person, actually, but it did sometimes happen.

My reply was rewarded with a brief smile, though he didn’t speak. It was clear to me that his features were unused to smiling, and were far more accustomed to neutrality.