Kimberly accepted the tea that Watson brought her, and finished telling the story of how she and her husband got there, and how he was kidnapped.

"Hmm. A short deformed man, you say?" Holmes said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin.

"Whirrreeeep!"

"Yeah, Tennyson, that sounds like Professor Moriarty's buddy, Fenwick," Wiggins said with a nod of his head.

Kimberly almost spat out the tea in her mouth. "M-Moriarty!? My husband's in the hands of an evil nutcase??"

"There, now, Mrs. Mitchel," Watson said reassuringly. "We shall get him out of Moriarty's clutches, I assure you."

"Yes, Professor Moriarty's never beaten Mister Holmes yet," Deidre chimed in.

Tennyson reached up and honked a horn attached to the odd little vehicle he rode in (the others explained that it was a hoverchair), which Kimberly assumed to mean that he agreed. She felt comforted.

"Thank you." she said, staring into her tea and looking at her reflection. "It's just been a long time since -- -er, we've never -- never mind."

Holmes eyed her suspiciously, and Kimberly saw it, but she was pretty sure that Holmes wouldn't force her to explain. She wasn't entirely proud of everything she and her husband had done when Power Rangers, and besides, the story was too long to be told, now.

"Mrs. Mitchel, can you please describe your husband for me?" Watson asked, getting out a notepad upon which Kimberly noted there was no paper.

"Sure....." the young woman agreed, and gave him a description, from the top of her husband's blond head to the dirty sneakers he usually wore. Watson hurriedly sketched on the pad as she spoke, with something that looked like a pen with a little magnet on the end.

"Thank you," the compudroid said, slipping the pad inside his coat. "I shall take this to New Scotland Yard right away. See you all after a couple of hours."

Kimberly turned her head and watched him go out the door, then back to the others.

"Hm...." Holmes murmured after she finished, rubbing his chin. "You say your husband wears glasses?"

Kimberly took a sip of her tea, swallowed it and answered. "Yes. Billy once told me that he's needed glasses since he was two."

"Wheeeeuuuurrr! Beep! Beep!"

Wiggins nodded. "Yeah, you're probably right, Tennyson," Wiggins said with a nod.

Kimberly was thouroughly confused. "Right about what?"

"Our Tennyson made an assumption that I believe could very well be right," Holmes said, beaming a bit at the boy in the hoverchair. Out of the corner of her eye, Kimberly saw Tennyson go red under his bandanna.

Kimberly shook her head slightly, still confused.

"You see," Holmes explained, "the need for glasses has been done away with in the twenty-second century, due to the invention of the prosthetic eyeball. Yes, I was quite shocked at that myself," he added, noting the look on Kimberly's face (though Kimberly's surprise was mixed with the thought, "Eeeeew."). Upon seeing your husband, Moriarty's lackey Fenwick may well have gone and reported to his master. Moriarty no doubt figured out that you and your husband are not from this time, and therefore had him kidnapped in order to persuade him to tell how he got here."

Billy's wife could feel the blood draining from her face. "Per-suade him?"

"I fear that is so." the detective answered, setting his lips in a straight line. "However, Moriarty will certainly not kill him until he gets what he wants."

Kimberly just stared blankly ahead. She knew very well where her husband would go if he died, so she wasn't worried about that. It was just the thought of someone causing the man she loved pain....

Oh, Lord, protect him. Please, please, protect him....

Her thoughts were broken by a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up to see Mister Holmes.

"I assure you, madam, that I will do everything in my power to get your husband out of Moriarty's clutches safely."

Kimberly grinned slightly. "Thank you, sir. I know you will."