Chapter Text
Sherlock knew needing to cry every day was best kept secret unless you wanted to be treated as a problem to be solved ....and in truth how he was feeling was unsolvable so why disturb anyone else.
Crying soundlessly was something most people found creepy or upsetting but he'd mastered it at Apple Dore at great personal cost, during the darkest early nights of his life, when he'd had to make sure Charles didn't hear and that painfully personal back history gave him the right to feel however he chose to feel about it in his opinion.
He was relying on his ability to cry without being heard now his mornings began with a bout of crying beneath the bedding.
Mummy would have called it morbid self indulgence.
Sherlock called it sanity saving. An hour every day to give in and let loss overwhelm him felt eminently reasonable given the horrific state of his heart.... it had never felt so full and so devastatingly, agonisingly empty at the same time before.
Over the last few weeks he'd written letter after letter to Alan and hadn't got a single reply back.
Sherlock had tried varying the mood...stoic.... optimistc .... realistic..... pessimistic. Nothing got him the reply he craved.
Finally Sherlock had given up and openly begged in the last letter..... PLEASE write back Alan ... PLEASE it's been weeks...
Nothing.....he'd mailed it Monday and it was Friday now, another week gone.
No reply
The only other person who knew exactly how he was feeling wasn't picking up a pen for whatever reason. That was reason enough for crying.
If he regarded himself dispassionately, as he would any experiment in the enforced breaking of a pseudo bond, then the results were interesting.
PHYSICAL SYMPTOMS..... depression, chest and neck pain, aching muscles, headaches, loss of appetite, insomnia, hot sweats then chills so bad he shivered.....
If he didn't know better he'd have diagnosed the flu. Instead he was love sick.... he'd never known it was a literal term, based on how Alpha and Omega reacted to the enforced severance of a committed bond.
CAUSES OF EMOTIONAL BREAKDOWN.....these could and did vary...... one morning it could be the fading scent of Alan on the sweatshirt that triggered it or the sight of the empty chair next to Sherlock's bed or the sight of the small pile of personal belongings that Alan had left behind him.
Mostly it was the gut wrenching knowledge that Alan wasn't there and he wasn't going to be there any time soon. A long time was going to pass by without that changing.....
END RESULT..... always the same.... crying.
Since he had no interest in stopping the crying happening, Sherlock felt the least he could do it was ensure he kept quiet so listening to him didn't worry John or upset Lars.
As a small child he'd once picked a scab off his knee at various stages in the healing process to see what was beneath until mummy had found out and slapped his hand away before leaving a scarlet red and white welted hand and finger imprint on Sherlock's thigh with slap number two.
Sherlock hadn't quite reached the level of stoicism he prided himself on at Apple Dore back then..... he'd screamed loudly and maintained pitch for so long Mummy had called for Nanny to save the day.
Nanny had made him jam sandwiches and fussed over him but it had taken Mycroft to care enough to explain why doing removing a scab repeatedly was such a bad idea.
It won't heal properly Sherlock..... if you keep picking at it, then it'll leave a scar.
Ironic given the huge ugly scarring that covered the nape of Sherlock's neck now.... or the jagged white and red scars over the blue veins of his wrists...... or what felt like the dead , grey areas of dying tissue covering his heart that made every beat hurt since Alan was gone.
Scars were apparently undesirable on an Omega unless an Alpha put them there. The scars Charles had meted out to him covered him inside and out but never seemed to put anyone off. There was no logic to that.
The second alarm meant he had a hour before Billy needed him.... Sherlock got up, keeping his face averted from whoever else was in the room and went into the bathroom to press his eyes with a flannel soaked in cold water before standing motionless under the shower until he felt warm enough for it too pass as having some positive energy in his body again.
The baby weight was dropping off him very fast..... he had a nasty suspicion John was going to say too fast but it was hard to find much pleasure in food. His stomach muscles ached from holding in crying every day and food lay in his stomach like an indigestible brick.
Heaven knows how Mycroft could eat anything when he was upset...... and just like that Sherlock saw him again..... 14 and sat on his bed surrounded by the purple wrappers , eating cake after small chocolate cake, methodically and without pleasure, like it was a task to be done...... even back then Sherlock knew he'd hear Mycroft retching miserably almost as soon as the last cake was gone.
It wasn't a memory he wanted ever to hear again. One hard blink and Purple Wrapped Cake memory would pop like a bubble but not before Mycroft spoke his mind apparently... My flaws are irrelevant Sherlock. You aren't considering forgiving me because you pitied me years ago? I expected a firmer sense of resolve from you , brother mine.
Dream Mycroft never shut up recently. Once Sherlock had stayed to hear the whole pompous speech only for that version of Mycroft to have the dark, lustrously sad eyes of a seal when he finally turned around....
With images as insane as that Sherlock suspected he'd lost complete control days ago..... right around the time cupboard doors in his memory house started opening of their own accord and disgorging whatever was inside. Like Mycroft's overly full stomach , Sherlock felt his own mind was purging itself. Good and bad.... a little bit of everything was coming back up all mixed together. He couldn't bring up a happy memory without failing to keep another more sickening one down.......
Deliberately opening the Apple Dore wing up to search it was a risky way to relive precious time with Alan.... Sherlock could never be entirely certain before he opened a closed door or pulled out a drawer which memories he had stumbled upon or how fast he could close down the ones he didn't ever need to relive again.
The subconscious was still so complex it could take hours of blundering around through good memories and bad before Sherlock found himself back in the room ..... sometimes the exploration worked out and an all too brief memory version of Alan would be there asking how he'd slept or leaving him a few cigarettes on the side table with a nod..... but not always.
The memories could be random and unpredictable, once he opened a bag and found the bloodstained clothing and his copy of the hollowed out book that Mycroft had used to smuggle in the pills Sherlock had used to end his pregnancy.
The sad guilt Sherlock felt over some of his past decisions would always be profound. Had his situation been different so could his actions have been but Charles violence had left him with no choice to make, other than the desperate one he had.
There was a bigger problem than past regrets..... some of the darker parts of the memory house still allowed Charles dominance..... walking into those rooms could be terrifying.
Stumbling across one of the worst rooms still provoked a severe fear response in Sherlock that couldn't be hidden. It had happened a lot in the nights immediately after Alan's arrest and always ended in his audible breakdown which meant the sort of injected sedation that thickened time yet still let it move slowly like mudslides through each and every new room he was trying to set up inside his memory.
John and Lars were only trying to help him make it out through the darkness .... he knew that but it took him hours of inner thought to set everything important back as it should be afterwards and a catatonic mental absence of that length was hard too explain.
Still....... Sherlock wouldn't allow himself to stay away from even those doors he knew led him into danger, opening them and suffering the consequences knowingly if Alan wasn't inside but Charles was..... because there was always a chance that afterwards, when Charles was done with him and Sherlock had lived through what happened all over again, that the person who'd come in to help him would be the one person he needed to have back....... Alan.
Sherlock refused to back away from what had to happen in order too find Riddick, even if the past sometimes left him pressing a hand over his own mouth to make certain his fear stayed mute.
It wasn't all bleak or traumatic even inside the Apple Dore memory rooms. There was always the possibility he'd find a hidden gem..... a ruffle of his curls and word of praise that he'd half forgotten Alan gave him back in the very earliest Apple Dore days, odd snatches of Riddick's Yorkshire dialect and once an old, bittersweet folk song Alan had sung him in a low tone late one night after Sherlock's daughter had been stillborn ....... secret treasures that made even the worst he could remember worth suffering through. Having that version of Alan back was incredibly comforting , which made keeping to a time limit all the more essential. A part of Sherlock knew if he didn't limit the time he spent searching for good moments he could find himself irrevocably lost and Billy needed him.....
As soon as the wristwatch beeped with the second alarm , warning him it was time for Billy's feed in fifteen minutes, Sherlock fumbled for the temperature dial, span it to blue and stood under the cold water shivering.
The icy shock worked even if his teeth clattered together. It shattered past memories like cold glass.
He was towelling himself dry when he found himself wondering if Mycroft shared the Purple Cake Memory too.
Probably best not to ask ..... even if they had been speaking. Which they still weren't.
"Morning Sherlock," John smiled and tried not to say again how concerned he was about the obvious signs of exhaustion and crying he could see on Sherlock's pale face.
"Morning John and ..... er..... Hi," Sherlock tried and failed to remember this particular NICU nurses name , he thought she was Kirsten but wasn't 100% sure she wasn't Kate.... he gave up trying, unwilling to wait any longer to look in at Billy. .
"Good morning Sherlock," Kate smiled as Sherlock edged past her to stare longingly into the incubator.
This morning Billy was wearing an oversized vibrant magenta knitted hat with a markedly crooked striped pattern in a lurid shade of turquoise and a massive pompom on top. Sherlock smiled.... "Hello you. Nice hat," That was new surely? "I see knitting is still a challenge Mrs Hudson remains determined to conquer....." He couldn't remember her visiting to bring a new hat for Billy and that disturbed him. What was happening to his mind?
John nodded in the direction of a large plastic bag full of knitted things.... "She's become a lean, mean knitting machine."
Alan would have laughed at that. Sherlock managed a weak smile in return and watched John's brow crease with worry. What was his faked smile lacking if John was worried by it more than he was reassured? He had no idea......
John couldn't give up on trying to help. As a doctor he saw every physical effect caused by the breaking of a pseudo bond from the aches to the pains but Sherlock's mental state worried him even more. There was the crying and Sherlock had lost so much weight it troubled him..... "Martha bought some cake in for you, Shall I bring you some over with a cup of tea?"
Sherlock was surprised enough to stop in his tracks.... "As my Doctor shouldn't you be promoting healthy food?"
Any regular food would be an improvement but John kept that to himself. "I'll bring you a big slice." John hoped Sherlock would eat at least half.
Great now I'll have too force myself to eat at least half of it! Sherlock put more forced upward lift into the edges of his smile this time but John's worried pucker just got even more pronounced.
Mycroft had been waiting outside in the heated comfort of his car for several hours now, tapping his well shod foot and listening to opera music, while Mary's rented home was discretely swept by plain clothes police to ensure it was clear of bugs or booby traps.
Finally it appeared they were finished.
"The flat is clear.... shall we commence a general search., Sir?"
Mycroft knew it wouldn't do to reveal he doubted the man's competence to see every possible clue...... however he was in no doubt that if he sent Sherlock inside , his brother would gleam some precious information. "I'd like to send my own...." Mycroft paused for a second, he could hardly say Omega brother....."my own interpretive expert ....." Oh how Sherlock would smirk to hear himself described as such..... "inside to see if he can infer anything at all from her personal effects, it is an area he specialises in ..... " even to his own ears it sounded preposterously absurd.....
"Of course, Sir.... " The detective said, it didn't do to argue with the Elite.
That only left the problem of persuading Sherlock to cooperate when his brother had chosen to talk only with Greg, John and Lars for weeks. If Gregory requested Sherlock's assistance he'd respond......
Mycroft kept a number of handwritten notes in his wallet..... surely one had to prove suitable.
The first said simply.... You snore. Greg x
The second was more useful..... Could do with some help here. Greg x
Initially the note had involved opening a corked bottle of wine but Sherlock wouldn't know that.
Despite the pangs of guilt , Mycroft folded then tore the single kiss from the end of the folded piece of yellow paper. He placed the tiny scrap with its kiss into his waistcoat pocket...
"Please ensure Sherlock gets this straight away.... Let him infer Greg Lestrade sent you. Tell him to come at once and alone..... Use a police car to bring him here.'
Sherlock was sat by Billy's head staring into his tiny sons eyes..... The goggles had only been off for two weeks after a few setbacks and he was still getting used to seeing Billy's bright birdlike eyes gazing back at him.... admittedly they lacked a little focus which resulted in Billy looking slightly myopic but that just added to his 'Ahhhh' factor which was in Sherlock's honest opinion already insanely high.
"See..... you feel so much better with a full tummy...." Sherlock told his son. "You were hungry weren't you.... and you don't like feeling hungry so that's why you were a little grumpy pants...... "
Billy stared back unblinkingly as his little round stomach sucked in and out.....
Sherlock watched his every move with rapt fascination. It almost looked like Billy was hiccupping but he couldn't be or could he?
"He's been awake a lot longer than usual this morning, I think he likes the sound of your voice, Sherlock...." Kate said encouragingly.
Sherlock hoped that was true....."You are totally rocking this new look, " he told his son. "Not every baby can look good in a giant pom pom hat you know.... but you can because you are unique and so is that hat ....." he stopped talking and smiled as Billy stuck one leg up in the air.....
Billy seemed to be the one thing still capable of winning a genuine smile from Sherlock.
It was a positive and John was exchanging a hopeful smile with Kate behind Sherlock's back when one of Mycroft's Aides opened the door and asked for Sherlock.....
Greg Lestrade had sent Sherlock a note asking for his immediate help on a crime scene.....and there was a police car outside waiting to take him there.
Sherlock had scrambled into a mismatched pair of socks and was privately hoping his suddenly too big maternity trousers would stay up and not end up down round his ankles at the most inopportune time. He'd pulled the elastic waist band as far out as it would go then tied a knot in the elastic but they felt dangerously loose now the weight had dropped off him....when worn with Alan's overly large hoodie he looked regrettably baggy....
"I won't be long John....." he'd planned on saying but as he exited the bathroom he found Lars had taken over Billy's care while John was dressed in jeans and a practical waxed jacket and was stood ready to accompany him......
"Its a crime scene, Alan would never forgive me if I let you go on your own," John said. " I thought I'd come along if that's alright? I won't get in the way.... I'm armed just in case....."
"Course it is," Sherlock was surprised to find himself relieved. Now Mycroft couldn't say he'd risked himself stupidly.... "I'll be back before Billy needs his feed," Sherlock promised. He had under two hours...
Sherlock was buzzing with so much anxious excitement he could barely sit still.....
He knew enough to expect Greg's team wouldn't roll out a red carpet for him, some of them had a prejudice against Elite Omega but that didn't have to be a problem. Not if he did things right!
Greg been matter of fact about the prejudice he' d faced...... " Don't let them get a reaction out of you..... You pull a big result out the bag Sherlock and they'll realise what having you onboard can do for us! Even something insignificant can lead to a breakthrough. You'll see things that anyone else wouldn't connect."
Ok..... all he had to do now was perform and see something on the body or at the scene ..... anything .... that nobody else had noticed first.
No pressure Sherlock!
"The Elite Omega murders," John watched the bright nervous anxiety in Sherlock's face and pushed to distract him "That's what you've been working on with Greg isn't it?"
Sherlock nodded once. "They're being killed by an Elite Alpha ..... the bite marks alone prove it.... If I see a body in situ then I may pick up something that's gone by the time it's moved to a morgue or I'm missing in photos ..... a clue..... anything" ..... he knew the odds weren't in his favour..
"Bit of a long shot," John said carefully. Could Sherlock cope with the let down if it was?
"I know.... but even something insignificant can be a breakthrough," Sherlock quoted Greg shamelessly.
"Fill me in on what you know for sure...."John hoped talking about what he knew to be true would help Sherlock focus and settle..
"Nowhere near enough.... the last body hadn't many clues left by the time i got to examine it. Really badly decomposed. Parts of the soft tissue were missing..." Sherlock told him without a trace of nausea....
Sherlock fell silent as the car turned into the familiar street with its huge London plane trees...... it took him a minute to realise John had gone quiet too. "John?"
"I know this street," John said slowly.
" I don't see where Greg parked..... there's no sign of his car...... " Sherlock said then stopped talking as he made an unwelcome discovery. "That's one of Mycroft's more discreet cars..... why's he at a crime scene? Nothing is taped off!..... Unless he lied to get me here! Now why would brother dearest do that?"
John stared incredulously out the car window at Mary's front door..... "That's Mary's flat," he told Sherlock, dread altering his voice as he threw the car door open. "Something must have happened to her! Stay in the car Sherlock!"
John got as far as the gate before plains clothes policeman came from nowhere and bustled both John and Sherlock inside........
Mycroft couldn't quite hide the initial irritation he experienced at seeing John Watson here..... It was going to complicate matters.....
Sherlock looked equally taken aback to come face to face with the brother he was avoiding.
Three voices spoke at the same time......
"Where's Mary," John demanded answers.....
"Which part of 'alone' did you deliberately choose to misunderstand Sherlock?" Mycroft used his most parental tone.....
"Never mind that! Why the fuck are you here Mycroft?" Sherlock said in an eerie echo of Alan's direct Northern bluntness...... "You sent me a note Greg gave you?" He knew that had to be the explanation. "It has to be important for you to have done that?"
Mycroft nodded. " I believe Mary is not the person she claims to be....."
Sherlock nodded. It wasn't a surprise, something had felt wrong about her all along....
"What do you mean she isn't who she is?" John's voice asked.
John took the news that Mary was a suspected assassin badly.... but then Mycroft supposed hearing you've dated and had sexual contact with a hired killer was the type of news it is impossible to receive well.
John was firmly in the denial stage..... "Are you sure? What proof do you have?" he asked repeatedly.
"None as yet..... " Mycroft was forced to admit.
"Bloody Hell!" John exploded without warning.....
"As yet.... " Mycroft explained with heavy precision. "Her history is suspiciously devoid of provable facts John..... no neighbours that knew her family or remember her as a child....."
"So she's not in the School Year Book! So what? That's not a crime is it?"
Mycroft lost his patience. "Her national insurance number is identical to that of somebody deceased !"
"Well..... that's fairly damning!" Sherlock said brightly then felt his face fall as John scowled at him..... "Well it IS! I never trusted her, John if you weren't so busy shagging you'd have seen right through her....."
John hit the roof. "Oh great..... now you tell me you don't like her! You've only met her the once under bad circumstances Sherlock! I put up with Alan for months and not once did I get him investigated by M15!"
"Don't drag Alan into this!" Sherlock said fiercely..... "He isn't a hired killer!"
"Neither is Mary! She's a nurse!" John said defensively..
"Oh really!" Sherlock snapped back. "Open your eyes John the woman has fluffy white pillows! It's Blofeld's cat all over but without the miaow!"
John felt his jaw fall open with slow incredulity. "Since when did you watch Bond movies, Sherlock?"
"Since Greg lent Alan his box set! I do watch movies sometimes you know!" Sherlock felt flustered, this was so far from the crime scene experience he had been looking forward to!
Mycroft strove to restore some order. "John ..... can allowing Sherlock to deduce what he can do any harm?"
"Since you already broke into her flat and didn't find anything you mean?" John was indignant..... "The insurance number could be a clerical error,Mycroft I knew a woman had two insurance numbers once.... it was a mix up when the birth was registered.... it's hardly the gunpowder plot!"
Mycroft's straightened mouth revealed a certain degree of annoyance. "I had the whole house swept for devices or booby traps to ensure Sherlock's safety. Nothing more . I have taken a brief inspection of the kitchen which revealed nothing out of place , Sherlock....the rest of the flat is yours to deduce what you can."
"The pair of you think this is some spy movie! Mary's a bit of an acquired taste I know but this is extreme!" John heaved a heartfelt sigh.
Sherlock said sullenly...... " This was meant to be a proper crime scene. I was looking forward to seeing a body..... I'm not leaving until I've deduced something..... even if it's only what supermarket she shops at...."
"Tesco Metro...." Mycroft said smoothly, having already done that research. "She buys a lot of sour cream crisps."
Sherlock pulled a 'I knew it' face.
Did Sherlock realise he'd just admitted he was disappointed there was nobody dead here? That was more than a bit not good but if they were right about Mary shit just got serious.....they couldn't be, could they? "You know what?" An annoyed John said. "Watching you both realise you misjudged her is going to be fun..... Go on then, lets see what you can deduce from her DVD collection, Sherlock!"
Sherlock ignored the sarcasm. John was understandably a bit put out at the moment.... Mary's 80s movie collection had already caught his eye but wasn't the clue John believed it to be.... "I'll start in the bedroom.... people are their most authentic selves in bedrooms," he announced confidently. It sounded knowledgeable and that was the main thing.
"Very well," Mycroft stood up.
" I don't need you distracting me or irritating John when I'm trying to focus! You can stay here..... I'm still not talking to you. I'm here to help do this then we go straight back to not talking" Sherlock pointed out.
The complacent look vanished from Mycroft's face.......
Sherlock began with the small chest of drawers on what was clearly Mary's chosen side of the bed if the blond hairs were the clue he thought they were......
He hadn't expected to have to sift through various bright satin and lace thongs to find whatever this oddly cylindrical item in a pink silken bag hidden beneath was.... "This feels heavy.... could be something interesting, John...." he announced and tipped it out onto his lap only to find 'it' was a bright pink vibrator with what looked like rabbit ears..... "Ugh!" he threw it onto the bed he was sitting on and shot further away, wiping both hands frantically against the duvet.... ..... "Gross!"
John wrinkled his forehead , bemused by the extreme reaction .... "It's a sex toy Sherlock not a ticking bomb....."
"I know it's a sex toy! I had that in my hands!" Sherlock wrinkled his nose. "I'm just going to have to wash up .... before we continue!"
"Seriously.....? " John shook his head incredulously.. he had the strangest urge to giggle at Sherlock's openly disgusted expression.
"Of course I'm serious. I touch Billy with these hands!" Sherlock replied.
"It's only a sex toy.... lots of couples have them," John said as Sherlock came back from washing his hands twice. "You know....."
"Alan and me don't.... didn't...." Sherlock said awkwardly. "Its not so much what it is... its knowing exactly where its been.." He was about to search drawer number two when a thought occurred to him...... maybe he didn't know exactly where this toy had been! He remembered the sex shop he'd been too with Alan and the Omega he'd seen on all fours ..... Oh God was John into that? ..... "John..... I'm not going to find some kinky strap on harness thing in here am I?"
"Just a tiger onesie and a pair of biker boots in my size....." John couldn't resist poking a little fun at Sherlock and the bizarre situation.
Sherlock blinked at him like a startled deer..... "Really?"
"I'm joking you prat!" John managed indignantly..... before a fit of laughter finally got him.
Mycroft had no idea what could possibly be so funny but he could clearly hear the sound of laughter.... It drew him to the door where the inexplicable sight of a pink vibrator lying on the duvet between John Watson and Sherlock met his eyes. "I hope you are taking this matter seriously.....? " He knew Sherlock hadn't laughed in weeks.....
"We are," Sherlock defended progress to date. "I just searched Mary's drawers....."
John spluttered helplessly, it was inappropriate given Mary was his date but God it was funny!
Sherlock snorted with inelegant laughter...
"Oh do behave and stop sniggering like a pair of teenagers in chapel!" Mycroft admonished them both and hid his approval..... God knows how John Watson had done it but for the first time since Alan had been arrested Sherlock had actually laughed.
Mary had heaped more fluffy pillows on the bed..... huge ornate silver mirror..... sliding door wardrobes with glass doors, very impractical..... scented candles and a strong smell of vanilla...... and just like that Sherlock made the connection nobody else had noticed..... "The room smells of vanilla....."
"So? She burns a lot of candles," John said. "I gave her that one on the table a few weeks back.... Sweet floral smells , that's what she likes."
Sherlock picked up a huge pink Yankee candle jar and sniffed it ...... ugh, way too artificial a floral smell for his liking.... "English Rose....." he pointed out.
"She likes roses," John couldn't believe this was happening.
Sherlock repeated himself..... "English Rose, John......"
"Yeah? So what? Lots of women like roses...." John was baffled.
Sherlock tilted the candle so John could see how much of it had been burnt down.... He needed to be more obvious about things......"The room smells strongly of vanilla..... yet the candle she's been burning for weeks is rose scented? John..... Will you just breathe in , please.....? "
John closed his eyes and inhaled slowly....... "All I can smell is rose candle, your scent and a bit of Alan's," he admitted.
Sherlock stared at him struck by the simple truth of what John had just said.... "Say that again John ," he urged.....
"All I can smell is roses and your scent... and a bit of Alan's scent....must be the hoodie you're wearing." John repeated himself with more detail, feeling like a fool.
"That's it! " Sherlock went straight for the wardrobe and stuck his head inside it sniffing at the rail of hanging clothing at insane speed while John gawped at him.... What was that thrown in a ball up on the top shelf? He knew that fabric....He span around and yelled..... "Mycroft , get back in here I think she's stolen my clothes!"
It took time to work out exactly how many items of clothing made from items Sherlock had once owned Mary had but finally they found a bag hidden behind the back panel of her wardrobe, full of clothing sealed in individually sealed plastic bags.
As Sherlock recognised fabric after fabric. "This I left behind in Apple Dore.....and this...."
"Fuck..." John's voice came from behind him. "She wore that on our fourth hook up."
Sherlock had to admit as plans go it was clever. There was no way John could have known he was being manipulated.
Mycroft held a blouse to his nose and inhaled delicately, Sherlock's scent was unmistakable..... "Clever.... she relied upon Sherlock's scent mixing with her own to attract and arouse you John ....."
John groaned. "Humiliation complete," he admitted.
Sherlock felt sorry for John .... "You weren't to know John. It's a chemical reaction..... that's all.... I'm sorry, i know you liked her."
"Not any more...." John said. "She's been using me to get to you..... You've been at risk! That stops today..... "
"I'll have her intercepted on her way here...." Mycroft said.
John shook his head slowly as the anger built inside him.... "I say we turn the tables on her..... let her think she has me fooled..... We need to find out who put her up to this."
"It has to be Charles. We can't prove it but who else can it be?" Sherlock said.
" A few items of clothing isn't the type of evidence of collusion a court will accept," Mycroft said. "We'd need more...."
"Maybe we can get that and prove it well enough for the Legate..... " John's voice was cold steel. She was a threat to Sherlock and nobody was allowed to be that.... "She doesn't know we've been here today....."
Mycroft's machiavellian smile spread slowly..... "She has no idea. I arranged for her to be elsewhere..... refreshing her nursing skill set....it enabled us to scan the whole property undetected."
"She isn't the only one who can play dangerous games," John said. "She thinks she has me fooled and she's no reason to think otherwise... that's half the battle won....let's fuck with her head a bit."