One

Few things surprised John these days. When your best friend comes back to life after mourning him for a year, your tolerance for the abnormal and bizarre skyrockets. But for some reason seeing Mycroft at the door of 221B made his jaw drop. Mycroft didn't normally make house calls.

"Good Evening, John," he spoke casually. "Is Sherlock in?"

"Shouldn't you know?" John asked, raising his eyebrow. "Don't you have your cameras follow his every move? And mine, come to think of it?"

Mycroft drops the pleasantries, if they could be called that, and just walked past John and up the stairs. John rolled his eyes and shut the door. He heard a melody begin to play from upstairs, Sherlock apparently deciding the best time to play being when his brother entered the room. When John walked into the living room, Mycroft was leaning on his umbrella glaring at his younger brother. Sherlock gave him his most annoying smirk before sitting in his chair, pausing in his solo. When Mycroft saw his chance to speak, he took it.

"We have a problem," he said cryptically.

"No," Sherlock droned. "You have a problem. I have much more pressing cases than whatever your people have cooked up."

Sherlock stood again and walked to the window, beginning to play again, louder than before. John leaned against the doorframe seeing which brother would win. He could see Sherlock's reflection in the window and all he saw was that annoying smirk again. Mycroft waited until Sherlock's song reached a softer, slower part before speaking again.

"It's about Mary."

This caught Sherlock's attention. He stopped playing altogether, but didn't drop his arms or turn around. John waited; hoping one of them would tell him who Mary was. It felt like an eternity before Sherlock turned around to face them, letting his arms fall to his sides, violin and bow in hand. He was as unreadable as ever. He stared into Mycroft's eyes for a long time, as if they were conversing just with their eyes. Finally, Sherlock placed his violin in his chair and began putting on his coat and scarf. Mycroft walked out of the flat with Sherlock on his heels. When Sherlock looked back and saw John standing in the same spot, he looked at him like he was an idiot.

"Come on, John, we haven't got all day," he said throwing his hands in the air.

John, after punching Sherlock in his mind, grabbed his jacket and followed the Holmes Brothers out onto the street. Mycroft had his usual black car waiting outside. He slid in on one side, waiting. Sherlock held the door open on the other side. John expected him to get in but he gave John a pointed look. It took John a moment to realize that he was refusing to sit next to his brother. Rolling his eyes, John got into the car, sliding over to the middle. After Sherlock was in, the driver began driving. John, realizing neither Holmes was going to speak, decided to watch where they were going. Strangely they were heading into a rather seedy, crime-ridden part to the city. Finally, Sherlock broke the silence.

"So what exactly happened?" he asked peering around John at his brother.

"All you need to know is that she'll be staying with you for a while," Mycroft answered. "She can fill you in on the details."

That ended all conversation, but only gave John more questions instead of answers. Who was this woman to the two Holmes and why was she staying with them? And what had happened? John was about to voice these questions when the car came to a stop outside a noisy nightclub by the name of "The Vibe". Sherlock and Mycroft were quickly out of the car and John followed as fast as he could. Even though there was a line half way down the street, Mycroft and Sherlock strolled right up to the door and were let in by the bouncer. When the giant man tried to stop John, Mycroft simply gave him a bit of cash, saying he was with them.

Inside was dark with colorful lights flashing everywhere. There was a stage about two or three feet high with a band blaring music. Connected to the stage and wrapping all around the room was a bar. He noticed some of the dancers jumped back and forth between the stage and the bar. There was even a few poles on the stage and the bar, though John suspected they were for dancing instead of stripping. The floor was packed with people dancing provocatively to the music. Most of the crowd was under the age of twenty-five, some even looked like they were minors who'd gotten in with fake IDs. John wondered why this Mary woman would be here, but he just followed his companions silently to the bar where they sat and ordered drinks. They sat there for a while, another band had taken the stage by the time Mycroft spoke.

"Alright, you stay here, I'll find him," he spoke directly to Sherlock. This statement confused John even more and once Mycroft left he began his inquiry.

"Who's 'him'?" John had to shout over the music. "I thought we were here for a woman named Mary. What's going on?"

Before Sherlock could answer, the crowd began to scream wildly. John looked to the stage to see a young woman approaching the mic. She was very pretty, with long dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Before she could reach the mic, a band member ran to it and snatched it away.

"Oi! Guess who's celebrating her birthday today!" he looked mischievously at the young woman. She merely smirked at him. He grinned at her. "Everybody say 'Happy 24th' to Mary!"

As the crowd shouted to the woman, John looked at Sherlock to see if this was his Mary. He showed no emotion, but the way he stared at her told John that she was. John looked back to see Mary snatch the mic from her band mate and nudge him to his instrument. She turned back to the crowd and smiled.

"Yes, I know, I'm so old!" she said with a giggle. Everyone laughed with her. "So for my birthday I had all of you regulars tweet your choices for tonight's show. I hope you enjoy the results."

The band began an upbeat song and the woman began to dance around. John, who didn't listen to this genre, didn't know the song but found the lyrics very provocative. Mary's voice, he noticed, was amazing. She seemed to have a lot of experience but had started with amazing raw talent. The lyrics, "I am a freak, I'm disturbed" caught his attention as he watched her roll her hips around. He looked away and took a sip of his drink. He was 17 years her senior, he shouldn't ogle at her like some hormonal school boy. He waited for Sherlock to do something, but the consulting detective merely turned back to his drink and waited silently. He looked back at Mary after a few songs and saw her looking at them. Well, at Sherlock. She began to sing a song John did recognize, strangely: Bleeding Love by Leona Lewis. She would glance at Sherlock every once in a while. John even noticed a tear run down her cheek. He thought perhaps it was just her way of selling the song but noticed Sherlock had looked back and stared at her intently.

It was pushing midnight and Mycroft still hadn't returned to them. Mary was singing another suggestive song, smiling as if she hadn't cried only several songs ago. This song she decided to jump up onto the bar, however, dancing, even swinging around one of the poles. During an instrumental portion of the song, she walked down the bar and sat on it right next to Sherlock. She smiled carelessly at him, kissed his cheek and continued singing. She hopped off the bar and made her way through crowd. John watched her dance with random people in the crowd as she made her way back to the stage. The kiss, however innocent it seemed, made John wonder if maybe this was an ex-girlfriend of Sherlock's. Highly unlikely, but always a possibility. Sherlock still hadn't offered an explanation so John continued trying to figure it out. Suddenly, Sherlock stood up. John followed his eyes to the stage where Mary was saying goodnight to the crowd. John stood as well and followed Sherlock who seemed to be headed to a door marked BACKSTAGE: EMPLOYEES ONLY. Ignoring the sign, Sherlock just pushed through into a hallway with doors all the way down it. Sherlock seemed to know exactly where he was going as he turned twice, taking them past the door onto the stage. John could hear another band starting up as they passed. They finally reached a door that read MARY. Without even knocking, Sherlock opened the door. The dressing room wasn't extravagant but was fairly large and clean. Sitting at a vanity was Mary. Upon hearing the door open she looked up into the mirror. All the joy and laughter she'd had on stage seemed to have disappeared. She just stared at Sherlock with a blank stare for what seemed like forever. Finally Sherlock spoke.

"Mycroft is taking care of things."

She only looked down, nodding. It seemed John was the only one who was in the dark. He stood slightly behind Sherlock, still unable to deduce the situation.

"Where am I to go?" she asked looking back up at Sherlock.

"For now, you'll stay with us," Sherlock stated. Mary merely nodded before standing and grabbing a rucksack from the floor. As she placed some of her things in it, John noticed her cheek had a bruise on it. She'd done an excellent job of covering it with make up for the stage. But standing so close to her, John finally saw it. Looking closer, he saw several old ones on her arms and even some around her neck. This woman had been tossed around on a number of occasions. From the looks of her cheek the most recent was today. Sherlock had noticed as well, because he finally walked into the room gently grabbing her jaw to inspect her cheek. In the mirror, John saw pure anger in his eyes. Mary pulled away looking ashamed. The proximity in which they stood reinforced John's ex-girlfriend theory.

After finishing packing, Mary waited for Sherlock to lead the way out. It was then that Sherlock remembered John and turned to look at him.

"Oh, John," he said suppressing his rage, "May I introduce Mary, my sister."