Chapter 1

"Ahhh," I sighed as I felt the hot water run through my body relaxing my tense muscles. I'm glad that this undercover mission is over and done with. Took me 5 years but hell, at last I could wash myself with crystal clear water and not some random pond water with God knows what creature living in there. That's probably the driving force that pushed me through this mission. As I scrubbed all the mud, leaves, dried blood and dust off my body, The pilot's voice boomed announcing that we will be landing in 5 minutes. I gave and exasperated sigh and finished up.

I put on a white blouse with matching black pencil skirt and tied my hair into a messy bun. That ought to do it. It's not like I'm meeting the queen anyway, I might wear pajamas then. I sat down as we landed and put on my coat as fast as I could when we touched ground, too excited to get out and smell the London air that I haven't got into my lungs in the last 5 years. God I missed it.

London has always been very aesthetic even when you don't want it to be. Its sophisticated aura can do miracles to someone who has a completely immoral character. While the people are cosmopolitan, most of them are, how you say, psychotic.

Well, I know one is.

"Look at you!" Lestrade placed his hand on his hips as he looked at me from head to toe. "You've grown since the last time I saw you!" He beamed and took the luggage I'd been carrying. "Well you haven't, uncle." I chuckled as we got into a taxi. Greg Lestrade was the man who kept me away from the streets and took care of me when I was a child. He helped me in more ways than anyone should for a stranger. And then he became the father I never had. When I was old enough, I was taken in by the government to undergo some training that would help them greatly. He was hesitant at first, but when he knew I wanted it, he allowed me to. I did want it. I loved the training, the practice, every case, every mystery and every undercover mission I went into. But actually, the only thing that I loved was the fact that I was needed.

"Was it boring?" I asked munching on the chocolates that he gave me, "Me being gone?" He laughed shaking his head then nodded. "A lil', not much though. Especially Dimmock, he wouldn't shut up on asking me how you were, where you were and when were you coming back." That must have been quite the annoyance. I smiled at him apologetically. Can't help it if I'm hot, can't I?

"But it's fine. It's good that there was a man waiting for you here besides me and Mycroft. Not to mention someone who likes you in a romantic way." He pinched my waist. I glared at him playfully. "As much as the thought of having a romantic relationship with someone bothered me to the point that talking about it here makes me want to throw myself out the window just to avoid it, one more reason is that I consider myself married to my work. And you should know that best of all, having to raise me." I pinched his shoulders so hard it made him yell a little loud in pain which made me laugh. The moment I fall in love with someone is the moment I lose. That is a quote I held on to for the last couple of years when people started telling me that I should have a boyfriend. But the thought didn't seem pleasing at the time, maybe because I haven't met someone yet or maybe because I just really have no time for that.

We arrived in Uncle's flat in less than 15 minutes. The cabbie helped us with my luggage earning him a big tip. He smiled and went on his way. "Well then, until you can find a flat of your own, consider this your temporary home." I flopped myself in his sofa and snuggled its pillows. The last time I ever did this is when I was 15 years old, before I was to be trained to be whatever the British government needed. I never had the chance to come back here to visit in 13 years, but Uncle did twice a year for thanksgiving and my birthday.

We chatted once again, now with the topic concerning a recent case he was solving. He was nowhere near into having a concrete lead but he was on to something, that's for sure. There were all done by one person. It's murder. A few minutes as we talked, his phone rang. Obviously enough, from the look on his face that it was work. "It's okay!" I pushed him out the door. "I'll be fine!" He was heavy. "Don't burn my flat understood?" He teased. I rolled my eyeballs, gave another hard push and once he was out, I closed the door shut. I looked at the clock and waited for another 15 minutes before going off myself. I wanted to buy some of my favorite tea and bread in order to stay relaxed and tamed. I don't want to lash out when my uncle could come up to his flat at any moment.

The ride to the market was short, but the ride back home feels like an eternity. The traffic was too much and I was starting to get bored. I turned my head to the window, looking over to the people who were walking alongside the road. I made up this game in my head and tried to know how each one of them will die with the mere information of what they look like and other evidences I might deduct. Probably not the best game to play with others but I enjoy it. I observed 3 people who might die due to a heart attack, 2 probably of ulcer and 1 of lung cancer. The game became boring so I decided to look at my driver. Clothes recently laundered but the others that he is wearing looks about 2 or 3 years old, he is at least 50 plus years old, quivering hands, cold blue eyes, shaving foam in left ear means he probably lives alone because no one pointed that out. What caught my eyes though is the photo up front, Children, but the left part was torn. Mother. Not dead I'm sure or she will still be there. Sentiment. She left him with the kids. Poor guy.

"Lovely." I said looking at the photo. "What is?" asked the driver looking at me by the rear-view mirror. "The photo," I gestured still looking at it, "lovely looking kids. I won't be mistaken if they are yours, now wouldn't I?" His eyebrows twitched once again, perhaps I hit a nerve. "I will shut up if you don't want to talk about that sir," I leaned back in the seat but he shook his head. "No, no, not at all. It's nice to have a talker once in a while." He chuckled, and so did I. "Yes, they are my children. Delightful, aren't they?" He looked at me and smiled. "They keep me going, and sane." He looked back on the road. "Yes, family does keep us sane, don't they?" I continued to observe his actions. He was still trembling at times, looking nervous, but at the same time, confident.

For a moment, the cab stopped at the end of a street. My eyes took a glance of a sign just a few feet away. Northumberland Street. I looked at my driver seeing that he was looking for someone. When turned my head I took notice of a tall thin man standing in front of a shop who was wearing a charcoal black coat. Our eyes locked. I saw the turquoise tint in his eyes despite of the distance between us. His face looks confused as he held my gaze. His clothing says detective but judging from his over-all profile, he didn't look like a policeman. He was more of a lone case solver. A case? A chase? I smirked and turn my head back in front. Finally, the cab started moving again. In the rear-view mirror, I could see another man with him. They moved quickly and for some reason I was sure they were going to chase us. But why? I know for sure it wasn't me. So there is only one possible explanation.

I looked left to right and up and down seeing them run in an alleyway and miss us on a corner. It was exciting. It took them a few minutes more until they caught up with the cab.

"Police! Open her up!" I heard a hoarse and deep voice shout.

The door beside me opened and me, having to always be presentable, greeted them with a smile. "Hello." My grin got wider as I hear them panting, "Everything alright?" My eyes met with the tall man's own once again. I was right. It was turquoise. Having to be closer to him now I can get a much more proper profile. Oh, those cheekbones. "No." He said out of breath. "Can't be." He shook his head angrily. "Why?" Asked his companion. "Just arrived from Japan. The bag. Airport tag in Japanese characters." Explained the man. He has a profound aptitude for deductive reasoning. Clothes. He likes to keep himself clean, too much actually. I deduct he is a chemist too from his cleanliness to his fingers and the way he moves. Always too careful. Never reckless. Chemist. I looked to his eyes but can't figure out that other occupation. I'll say detective for now. But not a police detective, that I'm sure. He raised up an I.D. with a badge but I caught the name. Gregson Lestrade. I chuckled silently as I shook my head. Small world. "Everything alright?" He asked. I grinned at him and answered. "Yes." The man with white-ish hair now looked confused at me. "Everything is perfect."

The two left and the taxi started moving once again. "So," I said placing my coat beside me. "What could you have done to have them chasing us?" The driver looked at me and smirked. "How could you say it was me they were after?" My back straightened as I began my explanation. "Northumberland Street. You looked like you were looking for someone. I looked back and saw those two men look directly at this cab. I say they lured you in there but they will suspect not that cabbie, but the passenger. It's never the cabbie anyway. The perfect excuse on being a criminal." The joy that is inside of me can't be hidden as it showed in my face. As I explained, the driver was looking at me amazed, confused, and scared. He wouldn't be the first. "So, how'd you kill them?" I was curious after all. "If it was you who was in the papers, the serial killer, I would gladly let you kill me."

He looked surprised as he couldn't see any hint of fear in my eyes. Then he started laughing. I was just smiling. "You volunteer to be my fifth?" Wait, didn't he kill 3? So, he already had a fourth. Interesting. "If it is the only way for me to know how you could have done it then yes, I do volunteer." He shook his head unbelieving, that's when we arrived in uncle's flat. "I'm sorry dear, but my fifth and probably the last is waiting for me. But if you really want to know, I just talk to them. And then they kill themselves." I gave a sad nod and gone outside.

"But please," I pleaded Mr. Jeff. "Don't die. I want to know how you killed them, using what words." I grinned, bowing to him and got in the flat.

Sherlock

"There are many like us Mr. Holmes." The cabbie said looking at me straight in the eye despite lying on the ground, bleeding to death. "Thinkers. Observers. Met one today before I took you for a ride." The possible fifth? "Could have killed her yes, but she was as extraordinary as we were. Saw right through me as you did. She was a very keen young lady." Her. Lady. Woman. "If there was ever another one my sponsor would find fascinating, it will be that woman." That sponsor.

"Who is it? My fan." I glared at him as he shook his head. "You're dying but there is still time to hurt you." I stepped on his wounded shoulder and he cried out in pain. "I want a name." I shouted hungrily for an answer. My fan? "THE NAME!"

"Moriarty!" As the words slipped out his mouth, I took my feet of his shoulder. Moriarty, I mouthed the words. That lady.

I knelt moving closer to his dying body. "Have you told him? About this lady you said that was like us." I waited for an answer I doubt that was coming, but when I stood up to go, he whispered. "No, but he is bound to know. He knew about you.. didn't he?"

"Yes." The woman smiled as if she was the happiest one alive. "Everything is perfect."

I stood in silence for a few minutes before I set a new goal in understanding whatever game this is. I need to find that woman.