May 13th, 1864,
No Place Like Holmes

Amelia shook her head, trying to regain her senses. She couldn't tell if everything that had just happened was real. She looked down at her sopping wet clothes. Were they really drenched from falling into some flooded city in the future? Surely she'd just… fallen into one of the puddles on the floor, right? Was that not a more sensible explanation?

She broke out of her pensive trance when, from the closet in the corner, a solid thud rang out against the wood, followed by the sound of something shuffling around inside. Her head jerked in that direction, and she stared into the darkness behind that slightly open closet door. Holding her breath, she took a single, shaky step toward it. She could feel her heartbeat resonating through her entire body.

It's just a closet, it's just a closet, she repeated to herself. It's probably just a squirrel. It's all in my head.

Watson took another step. Her legs were wobbling uncontrollably. She could've sworn she'd seen an eye staring back at her from inside. Her right hand reached inside her coat, and her fingers wrapped around the handle of her revolver. 

Then the door behind her slammed open.

"Watson, you called for me?" Asked Sherlock.

Watson's spine shot up straight, and her arms went straight to her sides. "Yes, sir!" She whipped back around to face her mentor. "I found another-"

She froze as her gaze hit the floor.

The dead man was gone.

"My goodness, you are positively drenched, my dear!" Sherlock exclaimed. "Tripped and fell into one of these puddles, did you?"

"No, that's not it… there was…" Amelia kneeled on the floor, her already soaked socks unable to absorb any more water off of the floor. "There was a dead body…"

"Yes, the one in the parlor," Master Holmes confirmed. "What of it?"

"No, I mean there was another one right here!" Amelia insisted.

Sherlock's face took on a look of concern, "We've been at this for quite a while, haven't we my dear? Perhaps we should turn in for the night and revisit this case tomorrow."

Amelia rose back to her feet, standing firmly and confidently, "I'm serious Master Holmes, I'm not tired! I really saw a body! It was right here!"

Fortunately, she remembered that she'd taken the pocket watch from the dead man. At this point, it was the best proof she had that he had existed. "Here, look!" She reached into her coat pockets, feeling around for the device. When her hands located it, she at least knew she wasn't crazy.
She wrapped her fingers around the clock's smooth, golden surface and was about to present it to her mentor, but she froze. If she showed this to Sherlock, it might get submitted into evidence. Would she ever get it back? A watch that could travel through time… A shark girl… That terrible disaster…

Perhaps it would be better if she held onto it for a little longer and made this into her own little private investigation.

"It… it's gone," she lied. "Did I really imagine the whole thing?"

"You've been having trouble maintaining your focus ever since we arrived," reasoned the renowned detective, "I should have noticed you were tired from the start. Allow me to see you back to your quarters. You could use a fresh set of clothes as well."

"Yeah, maybe I do need some rest." Amelia replied with a smile.

The clock struck on the 8th hour of the evening, and Amelia finally climbed out of her porcelain bath, allowing the water to drain. Being the apprentice to a famous detective certainly had its benefits - she didn't know anyone else with this kind of elaborate water piping. She was truly in the laps of luxury.

With the room dimly lit by a small candle, she briefly glanced over at the sleepwear she'd laid out for herself as she finished drying off. She'd gone through the trouble of preparing her nightgown, and yet all she could think of was how much she still wanted to do. She lifted her oil lamp, lit it, and went straight out into the hall, ignoring the clothes she'd left for herself in the bathroom.

Entering her bedroom, she headed over to her wardrobe. The coat, dress shirt, skirt, and everything else she'd worn that day were hanging by the window to dry. They'd probably still be damp in the morning. 

She grabbed the fresh coat that Sherlock had generously purchased for her during their walk home, along with the other garments she'd been intending to wear tomorrow. The morning could wait; she had her own investigation to take care of.

Grabbing the golden pocket watch off of her nightstand, she checked the time displayed on its face. The clock appeared to no longer be functioning, with all the hands stuck pointing nearly at 12 o' clock. It was at that moment that she noticed rotatable number panels on the clock's face formatted like a date, only with the year displayed first. If one were to read the time and date off of the clock in full, it would say "2022, May 13th, 11:59:59." At least, that was what she made of it; the day counter was stuck in the middle of rotating between the 13th and the 14th.

Her hands were shaking, but she took a deep breath and tried to brace herself. Nervously, she pressed the button atop the pocket watch.

The clock hands began rapidly spinning opposite their usual direction. She could hear the gears inside whirring. This time, however, symbols on the perimeter of the device didn't glow, and the object only trembled mildly. And then…

Nothing. The world didn't spin, her surroundings didn't change. Amelia's heart sank.

"W-what the heck?" Amelia shouted. "Did I break it or something?"

Her eyes pored over the clock face, and that was when she noticed that the second hand was ticking along again. Not only that, but she held her lamp up to the room's grandfather clock and cocked an eyebrow. The clock had set itself to the current date and time. It seemed to be off by a few seconds, but she'd never seen a clock set itself.

Did that mean that the clock knew what time it was?

Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, she gripped one of the knobs between her thumb and her index finger and began to slowly turn it. The clock arms wound around like any pocket watch would when you set the time.

Let's try something, Amelia thought. It was 5 o' clock when I first used this thing, right?

She wound the device back to 5:00pm and rested her thumb on the top button.

If this does what I think it's going to do…

Her hand shook nervously. She had no idea if this was a good idea or not, but her curiosity had already gotten the best of her.

Her thumb clicked the button. The clock hands spun forward slightly, coming to rest not far from where they'd begun, the inner mechanisms screamed, and Amelia saw the odd symbols on the rim flash and change as she felt her very existence twist and swirl around her.