6pm
1919

Holmes looked at the sun as it was setting while he was leaning on the railing near the bridge. He turned his eyes to the clock on the wall in the bridge. 6pm...yesterday I was in a house in New London looking for clues, at this time, Holmes thought. He began to feel lonely here in this time. Of course he had Moody and Bride as his friends. But he was so homesick for New London. An hour ago, Moody actually asked him to stay here, in this time where he used to belong. It was awfully tempting. This was the year that really suited him. All the high, polite society -- familiar things that he was familiar with... and he wouldn't have to put up with hovercrafts -- the days with no alcohol, no smoking. He smiled as he thought of those. No more New Scotland Yard at all, in fact, if he stayed to work on this ship. No more cases. No Watson, or Lestrade or the Irregulars. He frowned at those thoughts. The longer he stayed, the harder it would be to forget about New London.

He wanted to go back to New London. New London was where he really belonged. Suddenly, for some reasons, he felt very sleepy. Yawning, he leaned on the railing even more, trying to get himself into a more comfortable position. Maybe I can think of a way to go back to my time when I wake up, Holmes thought as he closed his eyes.