John had just left the Tube station on the end of Baker Street when his phone rang. For once Mycroft had decided to phone, instead of kidnapping him. He stopped and stood out of the way of the evening pedestrian traffic and answered his phone.

"We've got a problem, Doctor Watson"

Sighing, "Hello to you too, Mycroft. What can I do for you?"

"She's taken a very old relic, one the British Government cannot afford to have fallen in the wrong hands."

After a long day at the clinic, John's head was fuzzy and tired, "Whose?"

"Hers."

"Wait. 'Her'. The Woman?"

"Yes, John." The frustration was clear in the politician's voice now.

"Hold on, Mycroft. I thought she was dead. That's what you told me. That's what we told Sherlock." The idea should have been hard to wrap his head around, but in the end, it honestly didn't surprise him.

"Well obviously we were wrong. She managed to escape execution somehow. Ms. Adler has broken into Saint Benedict's Chapel in Alton. Saint Benedict was the patron saint –"

"Of Europe and students. Yes, Mycroft, I did go to Sunday school as well. What did she steal that you think is so important?"

"A book."

"Ha! A book?"

'A very particular book written in 593 AD by Pope Gregory I. It's a biography about Benedict's life called 'Dialogo' or 'Dialogue'."

"Because, Doctor, there are secrets hidden within its pages you do not need to know about."

John was chuckling by now at the situation, "And you think Sherlock is going to be willing to track down Irene Adler? He won't even refer to her by name. He just calls her 'The Woman'. I don't think he'll do it and quite frankly I don't blame him."

"No, John, you misunderstand me. This case isn't for my brother. It's for you."

There was something in Mycroft's voice that gave the blond pause, "Me? Why me?"

"My brother is, shall we say, lacking in certain subjects. You, Doctor, had an Anglican upbringing and thus are aware of the implications of relics like this falling into the wrong hands."

"I guess, but seriously Mycroft, why me? I'm not Sherlock and certainly don't have his skills of deduction and observation." Though he could see the sense in the older man asking him specifically, he still thought Sherlock would have been the better candidate.

"Ah, you sell yourself short, John. You have the skills of seeing what cannot be seen by my little brother. His mind is clouded when it comes to that woman. You can track her and her web. You would know what to look for. Our intel says she has been using old riddles and secret passages to move artifacts around."

He was glad Mycroft wasn't there to see his face, "Like the Da Vinci Code?"

The frustration in the voice on the other line made the comment worth it, "Wha – yes, like that if you must. What do you say, Doctor Watson, will you take the case for me?"

"I suppose, but what about him?" John didn't like the idea of keeping secrets from the younger man and even less something this serious involving his older brother.

"Leave Sherlock to me. You just handle this any way necessary."

"Okay, I'll take it, but I do it my way. No interfering from your people. Deal?"

"Deal. Goodbye now and do keep me updated."

"Goodbye." Smug bastard.

John stood at the front of the church, Alton Abbey in Hampshire, staring at the cross and candles, noticing Saint Benedict's chapel off to the side. It was quiet in the abbey and he took the time to think. He pretended he didn't hear the heels walking purposely between the aisles.

"Hello, Doctor Watson. I should have known you would keep your promise someday to 'come after' me."

He closed his eyes and turned to face The Woman, "Ms. Adler, I believe you have something that doesn't belong to you again."

"Don't I always?" She stood in there dressed in a black provocative dress and hat combination as if this wasn't a church or all the saints couldn't see her. She leaned against a pew and waited for him to continue.

The doctor wasn't going to play her game so he just glanced around and asked, "How'd you even get it? This place is locked up pretty tight."

The smile was evident on Irene's face by now, "Mmm, yes it is, but I had some help."

"I assume you know the security guard?"

That smile turned into a smirk as she said, "I know what he likes."

John chuckled, "Of course you do, but why this particular book?"

"I was contacted by a buyer. He offered a lot of money. I could use that to complete my disappearance."

"So you chose Dialogo? A book written 1400 years ago about a said who only wanted education and some researchers aren't even sure is authentic. Really?"

"Yes, though I am surprised your dear detective didn't come after me his self. After all, we did share something special." She must've thought bringing up Sherlock would distract the former soldier. Game.

But she was wrong there, she was gone too long and didn't know how things had changed. "His coat? So have I, but no, he doesn't even know about this case. I don't intend to tell him and neither will you. If you attempt to contact him again, I can't tell you how it will turn out for you, but Ican guarantee that there is someone who would lend his support." Set.

"I see. Well, Doctor, do you have your trusty little notebook. I'll draw you a map." Match.

"Thank you, Ms. Adler. I knew you'd see the sense of things."