Hi Everbody! First of all I am very, very sorry for this long delay! You know how it is with life, so anyway while I was away from you all I got this chapter and two others done which is good! So here it goes!

Disclaimer: Though I greatly wish I owned Sherlock I do not. Sherlock belongs to Moffat and Gatiss.

It was ten minutes to six and Mrs. Hudson had already brought up all of the food she had made. There was a pie, some type of casserole dish, snacks, and an alcohol punch. As I was finishing straightening the bookshelf the doorbell rang which apparently had been fixed since Sherlock shot it off... No, I thought immediately realizing the thought that had just passed through my mind. I shook my head quickly as the though it would erase the thought and raced down the steps to the door just as the bell was rung for a second time.

Quickly, I threw open the heavy wooden door to find Lestrade standing outside. He was wearing a black suit with a grey button down shirt and a thin black tie. "Hi Greg, come in," I greeted stepping aside so he could walk in.

"How's it going?" he asked as he turned to face me as I closed the door.

"Oh, you know, getting by," I replied with a tight smile. "You?"

"Pretty good, could be better," he replied.

There was an uncomfortable silence following so I decided to break it as quickly as possible. "Um, why don't you just, uh, head on upstairs while I go check on Mrs. Hudson."

"Okay," he said and dashed up the stairs. I sighed heavily and walked back to Mrs. Hudson's apartment, but just as I was getting there, she bumped into me.

"Oh! Hello dear, I was just about to head up," she said with a smile.

"Okay, Lestrade is up there-," I was cut off by the ring of our second guests. "I'll be up in a minute," I said and dashed to answer the door. Again I swung it open. This time though, I found Molly and a tall man waiting outside. Molly was wearing a dark green, strapless silk dress with a simple black necklace and matching high heels. The man that accompanied her had a mop of fiery red curls and piercing, ice blue eyes. He, like Lestrade, wore a black suit but his was with a white shirt and minus a tie. "Hello Molly and..." I drifted off realizing either I didn't know the man's name or, more likely, I had forgotten it.

"Sam Harlodson," he replied quickly filling in the space and extending his hand in greeting.

"John Watson," I greeted, shaking it, and then I realized that they were still outside. "Oh, come on in," I said retracting my hand and letting them into the entrance way. I led the way upstairs to find Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade chatting in the kitchen. They all greeted each other as I opened the bottle of wine. Sam and Molly walked over to sit down in the living room. Molly sat in my chair and Sam sat in Sherlock's which kind of took me off guard for a moment, but then I realized that he didn't know that so I just went over and sat on the sofa. There was another awkward silence so I decided to attempt to start a conversation.

"So, Sam. What do you do for a living?" I asked.

"Uh, I'm a neurologist," he responded.

"That's a great department to be in," I replied nodding slightly.

He abruptly stood and looked at the fireplace. "Is that Sherlock Holmes in this picture?" he asked picking up a frame.

"Uh, yes," I drew out the word yes, standing up. I felt slightly uncomfortable with his question.

"Wow, I loved his work. Extraordinary man, he was," he kept going.

"Yeah," I said walking slowly over to where he was standing.

"How long has it been since his little stunt off of Bart's?" he questioned innocently.

That was enough to make me snap. "It has been three years since his little stunt," I replied straining to keep my calm over this little twerp asking stupid questions. "So what do want to know anyway?" I asked, rounding the corner so I was standing in front of him.

"Oh I don't know... Maybe how and why he did it. Would you know?" he kept asking and pushing forward.

"I was his best friend and still to this day I do not know why or how he did it," I said raising my voice.

"Okay," He stretched the word out to impossible lengths. "Do you want to know how?"

"I'm done with this little game or whatever the bloody heck this is," I yelled. "Who are you and why would you know?" I yelled and shoved him a bit, though I felt like punching the daylights out of him.

"Does this look like a game?" he asked spreading his arms out wide as if he was a magician explaining a trick he had just done.

"Of course it doe-" he cut me off.

"Hold on, let me speak," he put his hands out as if to hold me back. I rolled my eyes and he went on. "Have you ever heard of the three steps of a magic trick? The last step is when you make something disappear, you have to make it reappear. Correct? Did Sherlock Holmes say these words to you before he jumped; 'It was just a magic trick?'" Before I could answer his question he kept speaking. "I believe he did. Don't you? His final act in this trick is to come back from the dead, is it not? I think it's about time that the act comes to an end-"I cut him off with my own question.

"Who the heck are you?" I whispered backing away from him.

"Guess," he said with a mischievous grin that I knew all too well.

Well can you guess who it is? I know that no one likes cliffhangers (hem, hem, Moffat!) so depending on how busy I am I will try to get the next chapter up by Wednesday. No promises but I will try! Comments, as always, are quite welcome!