I never thought this chapter would come up so soon, but I have a holiday on my hands, and loads of free time, so I just started typing and here it is! It's a bit shorter than last chapter, but that's because for me it suddenly ended. I had a feeling that I shouldn't continue in this chapter.

Enjoy yourselves!

Chapter 2

Now what did detective Bell want? Sherlock answered with utter calm. Today he heard that the two sisters were happy and well in Casablanca. He had been able to talk to the girls, now 9 and 6, and they told him everything that had happened. The only thing that would be reported in this case, was the abusive mother. He would see to it that she would face justice.

"Detective Bell, how may I be of service?"

"Holmes, we've got a John Doe washed up on the shore of the Hudson. We thought it would be a good case for your apprentice."

"Very well, we're on our way." Sherlock hung up, and stalked up the stairs to Watson's room. He entered without knocking, a thing he regretted almost immediately. She was standing in the middle of the room, back to him. And very much naked. She gasped, pulled her blanket from the bed and covered herself quickly.

"SHERLOCK!" she screeched. He fought the urge to turn around, but he would not show her that this had flustered him.

"I'm sorry, but we have a case. A body washed up on the shores of the Hudson. Wonderful opportunity for you to learn, Watson."

She threw her brush at his head and yelled, "Get out! We have talked about boundaries, Sherlock, and you're overstepping all of them!"

He rubbed the spot where the brush had hit him, an indignant expression on his face. "Was that necessary?"

"Yes! Now get out!"

Sherlock gave up. "Alright. Coffee will be waiting for you downstairs." He turned on his heel to go, but then his head throbbed again, and he turned back, startled. "What...?" Her alarm clock lay broken and useless on the floor.

Watson stood with her arms crossed over her chest. "Don't even think I will apologise, Mr. Holmes. Now get out."

He had the urge to come over there and be very childish. But she hated that even more, so he just turned around without saying anything, leaving her alone for the very first time. His head was spinning, and it wasn't because his head was hit twice. It was because he couldn't get that picture of her in the middle of that room out of his head. It swarmed there, drowning out every other thought. He rubbed his forehead, trying very hard to concentrate on making coffee. It felt so horrible, not knowing what was happening to his mind, and that he couldn't control any of it. He remembered his conversation with Alfredo the day before yesterday.

"I can't tell you what you're feeling, Sherlock. But it's strong. It's unbelievably strong."

"But why can't I deduce it?" he'd asked.

"Because it's undeducible - if that's even a word - , feelings and women. They're not meant to be deduced." Alfredo had smiled. "This isn't about understanding the pure science of it all. This is about understanding where those feelings are coming from and then following your heart."

"But my head is dominant." He had been frustrated again. He couldn't follow his heart, his head overruled everything.

Alfredo had smiled yet again. "Then it is obvious what you should do." Sherlock had shaken his head, not understanding. "Dominate the dominant."

Dominate the dominant. Alfredo obviously knew nothing of dominance. A dominant is very hard, if not impossible to dominate. Sherlock shook his head and poured himself a cup of coffee. Absentmindedly, he took a sip and then spit it out as fast as he could at the despicable taste. What was that? He looked down and cursed loudly. He had forgotten to put coffee in the filter! This was just boiled water, with the taste of filter! Silently cursing himself, he began to make another pot as quickly as he could, seeing as Joan would be coming down any second. Speaking of which, what was taking her so long? Was this punishment for walking in on her earlier?

"Watson! Any time you want to come down?!"

No answer. Sherlock frowned and shouted her name again. Pure silence. This was very unlike Joan. He took a few stairs. "Watson, if you're trying to punish me for walking in on you, I should tell you, you are not succeeding!" There wasn't even a movement upstairs. His entire being was forcefully denying what his head already knew. Something was very wrong. He took the stairs two at a time, calling her name again, genuinely worried now. He threw her door open. Empty. The bathroom. Empty. His head started spinning again. Oh God, Joan. Every other room was checked and empty, and his last resort was his room. He threw the door open, and looked around frantically.

"Joan!" It, too, was empty and he stood there indecisively for a long, agonizing second, and then went back to her room. He had no idea what had happened, but there had to be a clue. He walked into her room and scanned it, taking everything in. The sheets were tousled on he ground (he tried not to think of when he'd last seen those), a single heeled boot lay abandoned next to the bed. He sniffed the air and found a faint salty scent, just barely recognisable over - Sherlock had to chuckle a little despite himself - the Chanel No. 5 perfume.

His mind worked hard and fast, as it took in everything. The scent, the barely recognisable footprints that were definitely not hers, the open window...the open window! Sherlock was fairly certain that the window hadn't been open before, when he was here. He ran to it and stuck his head out, the cool morning air meeting him, along with the city's smells and noises. Down there, he saw something glimmer. He had to contain himself, or he would've jumped out of that window right then. Instead he flew down the stairs, left the house and was beneath her window in less than ten seconds. A single hairpin lay there. He smirked. Clever, wonderful, amazing Watson, she'd left a trail! He ran back into the house, took his coat and scarf and left, intending not to return until he had her back, safe and sound. While he began searching for another pin, he dialled Gregson.

"Holmes, what is taking you so long?"

Sherlock picked up another pin, and smiled ruefully. "I'm sorry, Captain, I'm afraid I'll have to pass. Someone took Watson."

"What?! Come to the station, immediately!"

Sherlock shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Captain. By taking Watson, whoever did this made this very personal. There is no force on this earth that can stop me from finding her and the man responsible."

"Holmes, you're angry, I get it. But don't repeat yourself by going after this guy alone!"

"Oh, I am most certainly not angry. I am seething."

"Holmes, I'm telling you to come to the station, we will figure - " Sherlock hung up and followed the trail, leading away from the brownstone, to the heart of the city. All the while, his mind figure out where this could lead, but there were endless possibilities. There was so much in the centre, Joan could be anywhere. He passed through a park and suddenly, he found two pins. She'd been here longer. Maybe they had stopped here. On the grass next to the path, he saw a patch of grass crushed and uprooted. He crouched down and sniffed at it. Chanel No. 5. She'd sat here. By the uprooted part, there lay another pin, covered in dirt. He sprang to his feet and looked down at it, confirming his suspicions. She'd written something. So she wasn't bound or gagged. Of course not, or he wouldn't have taken the park, or gone by foot for that matter. The man probably held a gun at her or something.

'Mori'. The i was sloppily done, as if in a hurry, but it was enough. He repeated it in his head and almost felt steam coming from his ears. Moriarty, the ruthless mastermind! Doubtful he did this himself, but Joan had figured out he was behind it all. Wonderful woman. So Moriarty thought he could take yet another thing from Sherlock that he cared about. Sherlock doubled his pace and followed the hairpins, furious and concerned. Moriarty thought wrong. Sherlock would find him.

And then he would kill him.

And a special shout-out to: marshmallowdeviant, andreasmandrea, Jane Q. Doe, farmgirl1964, Mochi-girl, Guest and CharmingNotDarling for reviewing!