It had been a though year on the Holmes, and life was making sure it only got worse. Bombs were going of everywhere and no corner was safe anymore, no matter how many scoundrels you beat up in the process. Sherlock had decided that it was time for his wife to take a seat back and make sure she was safe. Which was why he was alone following her sister to make sure she didn't get blown up in the process. Seeing her get a package he decided to act. With a sly of hand and whistle he was able to take it and replace with a lump of bread that actually did smell delicious. Maybe Isabel was right, maybe he should have eaten before leaving.

"When did you start working for the postal service?" Sherlock asked locking his arm with her so she would not get away.

Irene looked down to see the bread and how he had her package now. That trick she knew it well, that trick was her sister's favorite. Apparently she had taught her husband well.

"That was you back there," she said looking for a way to get out. She needed to deliver the package or her boss could get picky. "Shame your activities have landed you in the gutter."

They kept walking down the street trying to not attract any attention. They both had enemies and they really didn't want anyone to recognize them.

"You act as if you didn't know exactly where and with who I spent my night. Do not worry your sister knows where I am and what am I doing," Sherlock said looking down at the parcel trying to get the weight and measures with his hand. "A curious parcel. Who's the intended recipient?"

"Why don't we discuss that over dinner tonight?"

"I'm free for lunch," he said. He had plans with his wife that night and not even Irene Adler was going to spoiled them.

"Hmm. I'm not. How about the Savoy, 8:00?" He should have known.

"Do not spoil my dinner with my wife tonight. It's a big night for us."

"I know, but I haven't seen my dear sister in so long."

"By your own choice, how many times have you cancel on her already?"

"Not by choice, besides I really need to talk with her tonight. Is important. I promise I will be there Sherlock."

"Splendid, now all I have to do is make sure you don't hurt her again." With that he pulled her behind a wagon to be able to talk to her better. "Three men have been following you for the last half hour their motives highly unsavory."

"No," said Irene pulling him along. They were in an alley when she gasp seeing the men coming out of the shadows and looking back at the detective. "Oh, and, by the way, they're not pursuing me, they're escorting me. And instead of three, there seems to be, uh, four." She took the package with a parting look.

"Steady hands with that Irene."

"Oh, I don't think it's my hands you have to worry about. Now be careful with the face, boys. My sister won't like it if because of me he is a little rough up. See you at dinner tonight. Don't fill up on bread," and with a parting gaze she left him to his fate.

Now I could explained to you how they fought. I could tell you how Sherlock was held by four men against a crate only for them to jump back when they saw the peelers coming. About how he took the knife one of the tugs had to imbed it in another. I could describe how he took the baton of one can beat him up either it. How he disarm a man with a gun without it being fired. I could tell you how he did all of this after seeing every step, every move, every breath in his mind before putting it into action. Then again the details are so tedious. I will tell you that at the end of the fight the biggest thug was actually more than a little afraid of Sherlock.

He took off getting to the auction just in time to stop the doctor from blowing the hotel up.

"Judging from its size and weight, it's not the payment you were expecting," Isabel said at another part of town. She had promised Sherlock to stay indoors while he figure out something and had gotten bored. So she decided if she was going to break a promise she might as well make it worth it. She was in the slums or at least the ugliest part of the ugly. She needed some answers. For weeks now Sherlock had been keeping a secret from her she could tell. The only problem was she wasn't sure what the secret was.

"No my lady it is not."

"Where is she?"

"She is dead madam, for some days now." Isabel had gone to see the woman that knew all. She was also the one who control all the whores, and opium houses. Now she was dead. Isabel knew this was no coincidence.

"Who has the power now? George?"

"They say ma'am that a man now controls everything, from the north to the south, from the east to the west," the man said giving her his back. She could see him trying to get something out of his belt, and she knew what was going to happen. She had lost the protection she had when coming here. Nobody touched her because of Madam. Now she was going to have to remind everyone in the slums who she was and why Madam had accepted her with open arms.

"He wants somethings to happen ma'am. He is moving and he wants to make sure there are some people who won't get in his way." And there it was a knife, a long one by the looks of it.

"Really George and let me guess he is offering more for my head than he did for Madam's?"

"Something like that." Isabel turned her back on the man. He really was a pity to look at. He was one of the clients of Madam of the whore house. Apparently he came from a very high ranking family. Yet looking at him you would never guess it the only thing he had from his old life was his way of speaking.

"That's a pity George," she said picking up a chain form a barrel. "But you should know I would not go down that easily." Picking up the chained Isabel turned around wrapped it around the knife. She pulled and ended with the chain wrapped around the neck of the man holding the knife to his skin.

"Breath and I will opened you up ear from ear," she said in a whisper. "Now you are going to tell me who wants me dead and why."

"I don't know ma'am I swear, he is just a shadow in a corner, and he always comes to you not the other way around."

"You better remember something George because nothing is getting you into my good side. Is this the same man my sister works for?"

"Yes ma'am. Look all I now is he wants you out the way. That way he destroys your husband, and you're…"

"What does he want with my husband?"

"He wants him out of the way, "and she pulled making him pass out. He was giving her a headache. Whoever this man was he was going after Sherlock and everything he loves to destroy him. Fortunately for Sherlock she knew exactly how to take care of herself.

As she left the slums she called back "Dick make sure you clean him up. We can't have him in Madam's steps not after what he did." She continued walking when she heard a "yeah ma'am".

It didn't take Isabel long to get to 211 B Baker Street. She knew the way by heart now. When she arrived at her home she found a note in their bedroom from Sherlock himself. It seemed she was not going to be able to hide her little escapade from her husband.

Remember we have dinner reservations tonight at 8:00. Please don't be late. I think I might have a surprise for you. We will talk about your little escapade there as well. Love you

Yep she was not going to be able to hide anything. As Isabel change she started thinking back to the last few months. She had barely had any time with her husband. Ever since John had moved out and he realized someone else was coming after him he had been on high alert. Every shadow that move was a threat. Every new information was the clue that would break the case wide open. He had not taken any of the cases Scotland Yard had brought him. Yet with her everything was the same. Every night he would stay up until the wee hours of the morning yet she would always wake up with his arms around her. When she brought him tea he insisted she should stay and have some with him, even if half the time he would completely ignore her working on something else. Everything was like always and it scared her.

Sherlock would never detach himself entirely from her but in cases she wasn't working there was still some distance. It was almost like he couldn't get enough time with her. It scared her because that made her wonder; could it be possible that is what he was thinking? She hadn't been able to talk to him about something important and after everything that had been happening she wasn't sure when she would be able to talk to him.

She got to dinner only half an hour late. In her defense she had to get pretty, it's not every day Sherlock Holmes takes you out for dinner even if you are married to him. She saw him as she walked in. Dress in a jacket, and vest, white shirt, and a scarf that drove her crazy she walked to him. When he saw her, well the look in his eyes can't be describes in anything but one word, love. His eyes filled with love and everything that either may have said about the days hey had was forgotten.

He stood up to greet her not being able to help himself and kissed her.

"You look…"

"I know," she said smiling at him. He pulled her chair out so she could sit down and then sat down next to her.

"So love how was your day?" Sherlock asked with a little bit of mischief in his eyes.

"Do not start this Sherlock if you don't want to finish it," she smiled back to him making him chuckle.

"Oh love, you should know by now that everything I start with you I finish." For a moment they both stopped and stared at the other. With a glance they told each other everything.

"Have you order wine yet?"

"Nope I was waiting," he said signaling one of the waiters.

"Waiting for what Sherlock, you know what I like," she said smiling at him as he ordered the wine she liked.

"Well you see I was under the impression that it wouldn't just the two of us tonight."

"What do you mean?"

"I ran into your sister today," he told her almost cautiously. Ever since an incident between the sisters that Sherlock wasn't sure what it was Isabel had been very reluctant to talk to him about Irene. Later on she told him that she had given up on Irene and if she ever wanted any help from the Holmes she would have to come and ask for it herself. Sherlock was pretty sure that was what Irene was going to do that night. The only problem was she was even later than Isabel.

"Oh yes, what did she want?"

"She said she wanted to talk to us about something," he said seeing all the emotions that ran over her face.

"Yes well Sherlock I don't see her here and unless she decides to show up I am going to have a wonderful night with my husband." Isabel was tired of Irene and her games. Tonight was a night between husband and wife and she was not going to stop it. Knowing Irene she would just show up so that Isabel's dinner would be ruined.

That night the couple dined with the most grace anyone thought they could ever see Sherlock in. She laughed and he smiled, she talked he listen, he talked and she, well, pretended to listen. Honestly she knew his speech on earth worm growth pattern by heart now. Later they went home. The Holmes walking the streets of London arm in arm. That night they reacquainted themselves with each other remembering the joys of being husband and wife. At the end of the night when Isabel was so tired she couldn't move Sherlock drew up the sheets as if to cover her from the outside world, blew off the last candle and fell sleep with his wife in his arms. Neither of them stopped to think that Irene Adler hadn't made an appearance at all the entire night, and they never bother to question why. Or why even with a whole bottle of her favorite wine on the table Isabel had drank not even one glass.

He had known Isabel for two months almost to the day, and here she was in is bed asleep. He and Watson had just come back from a case that involve a lot of running and a pig in a blanket. No it wasn't a joke. He just wanted to get to his room and finish his experiments. What he found on his bed was something else.

"What is she doing here Holmes?"

"I don't know Watson. I won't know until she tells me."

"So you didn't know she was going to be here?"

"Why don't you ask me yourself doctor?" said a voice from the middle of the bed. Isabel had woken up to the two men whispering to each other. Both men turned to her at the same time looking funny and awkward at the same time.

"Ah you are awake," said Sherlock looking for something to do. He didn't like to admit it but for some reason being in the same room as Isabel made him something he really only felt as a boy. He could talk his way out of anything and then some, but talking to her confused him. He was sure that he had lost that things called feelings.

"What are you doing here Isabel?" asked Watson who unlike Holmes had unfreeze from looking at her.

"Nothing too bad John, just you know my everyday life," said Isabel getting up from the bed. Neither notice the flare that passed through Sherlock at Isabel's familiarity with his friend. He hadn't taken his eyes of her though that's how he notice something.

"Watson I think she needs you attention."

"What happened to your arm?"

"My sister took another job. The guys mistook me for her and decided to see how good she was at fighting." She stopped to take a breath as John cleaned the wound. It wasn't deep but it was definitely a long slash. It went from her shoulder down almost to her elbow.

"Are you working with her," asked Sherlock not liking that he didn't like seeing her in pain.

"No. Not for some time now actually. That's why I came here," she said looking up at Sherlock. "Now I see that was a mistake, as soon as the doctor is done I will leave here Sherlock and not come back."

He didn't know if it was knowing that if she stepped outside his door she could die, that almost lost look in her eyes, or the fact that she had called him Sherlock, but he didn't want her to go. "Don't be ridiculous you will stay here until you feel better." With the he left the room leaving Isabel and Watson behind.

"John is he always like that," she said looking down at the doctor. She actually liked him. People who were different tended to alienate everyone. Yet somehow John had a friendship with Sherlock that she could tell even now people everywhere one day would talk about it.

"Not really, only when he is around you," he said with a smile. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe John was just as different as Sherlock. Maybe that was why they work so well together.

"Well that's interesting," she said looking after the detective.

Later that day Isabel was back in Sherlock's bed. She had tried to go outside and found herself surrounded. She was sick of her life. She had started into the life just to survive, yet lately every job was more dangerous than the last. Now because of her sister she felt her live was out of control. As she was thinking of everything she was going to blame her sister for this time Isabel heard the door opened.

She looked behind to see Sherlock coming towards her. She turned completely so she was facing him as he sat next to her and took her hands in his.

"Everything alright?"

"Yes just thinking of everything that I can blame my sister for."

"Oh I know that game well," he said to her looking down.

"You have a sister?"

"Brother, older."

"Yes I can see it," she said making him look up. "You have the younger brother syndrome."

"Oh yes and what is that." She looked at him with a smiled at him but didn't answer. He would figure it out one day, after all he was Sherlock Holmes.

"Tell me something nobody know about you Sherlock," she said bringing his focus back.

"I can't turn it off," at her looked he explained. "My brain. John, my brother, everyone who knows me enough thinks that is why I take so many drugs, but the truth is not even then. Maybe I can take it from a train to a limp man walking, with the drugs, but it is never truly off. Sometime I wish it was." He admitted the last almost like a confession to a crime, with a lot of guilt.

For a minute they stayed silent and the he asked her, "Now you tell me a secret."

"For the last year I have been thinking, looking for ways to get out of this life," she could tell she had surprised him, yet it was the truth. Giving him a smile she took his hands that had slipped from her back into her own. That night they talked for hours about everything and nothing falling asleep next to each other. For the first time in a long while they both could sleep without waking once. Never letting go of the others hand.

Sherlock Holmes woke up the next day to an empty bed. For a moment he thought he had imagine her completely, but the aroma of her was still on his pillows. He looked around his room trying to figure out what happened. Then he saw a piece of paper on the desk that was not there the night before. He got up and took the paper in his hand. The same aroma that was on his pillow was on the paper.

'Had to go before the guns would come back, but I wish I didn't have to. It's been a while since I could sleep so soundly and I hope it was the same for you. I hope talking to me slowed down your brain enough that you could rest from thinking. If you ever need a shutdown let me know. I would not mind seeing you again. Always Isabel. Ps. I took something if you figure out what and why you will know when we will met again.'

He looked around trying to figure out what was missing, smiling as he already knew he would see her soon. For once those things called emotions may actually be welcome.