James Moriarty leveled a dark stare at his Number Two and watched with a hefty amount of satisfaction as he squirmed uneasily.

"Listen, Moriarty." Moran sighed dejectedly. "I didn't know that she would show up."

"You need to keep a better handle on that little bitch of yours, Sebastian." Moriarty said without any inflection at all. "She's becoming a bit of a thorn in my side. If it wasn't so irritating, I would be impressed."

"I'm aware, Sir." Sebastian answered. "I will see that she pays for her disloyalty."

"She better." Moriarty answered. "She is coming along rather nicely, though."

"If I could get more than three days with her…" Sebastian said angrily.

"You know the deal." He replied.

"How much longer are we going to abide by these stupid rules?" Sebastian asked.

"Patience, Moran." Moriarty said with a quick wave of his hand. "We'll have her back with us full-time soon enough. Just make her understand her place."

"Of course, Sir." Sebastian said. "She arrives tonight. What about Sherlock Holmes?"

"Don't worry," Moriarty answered letting a gleeful smirk paint his features into madness. "I've caught his interest. We'll play again soon."

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"A woman here to see you, Sir." Clarky said knocking lightly on Lestrade's office door.

"What's this about?" Lestrade said, finishing off his fifth cup of coffee since 8am.

"Says she has information about the pool incident, Sir." Clarky answered. "Apparently she lives in the apartment complex across the street. She was away when the team did the walkthrough."

"Let her in." Lestrade sighed heavily.

"In here, Miss." Clarky said politely. He held the door open for a young woman with dark brown hair, brown eyes, and a soft smile on her features.

"Thank you." She replied with a light Scottish accent. "I really appreciate it."

"Could I get you a cup of tea?" Clarky asked lightly.

"That would be wonderful, thank you." She said grinning back. "Don't worry about adding anything. I take my tea straight up."

"Back in a few." Clarky said, closing the door lightly behind him.

"Welcome," Lestrade said eyeing the woman thoughtfully. "I'm Detective Inspector Lestrade."

"So nice to meet you." She replied with that smile still gracing her features. "I'm Irene. Irene Adler."

"I was told you have some information about an event that occurred near your apartment building last evening." Lestrade said lightly. He reached for a tape recorder and his notebook.

"Yes." She said letting a shred of unease cross her features. "I don't know if it is important but I saw the police last night and I thought I had better report it just in case."

"What's that?" Lestrade urged.

"Well," She said looking a bit unsure. "Like I said, I don't know if it is important, but I did hear someone around 11:00pm talking on the phone right outside the doors. I didn't see them, because of the tree line. But I just remember the man saying a name."

"And what name is that?" Lestrade asked.

"Well, he said two different names. One was a first name and one was a last name. So, it was either two different people he was talking about or the same person being referred to as both their first and last name interchangeably."

"And those names were."

"Well," She said. "At first he kept saying 'Moran'. That was the last name I think. The second name was 'Sebastian'. Like I said, I don't know if that is at all relevant, but I thought I should at least drop by here before work just in case."

"Alright." Lestrade said, feeling that this is probably going to go nowhere but trying to be polite nonetheless. "Thank you, Miss Adler. If you'll just leave your information with Clarky, we will get in touch if we have any other questions."

"It wasn't terribly important, was it?" She said with a faint blush and a small grimace. "I shouldn't have come down. I just didn't want to not help if I could."

"Don't worry." Lestrade said trying to wave away her embarrassment. "Every little bit helps."

"Sorry." She said, not buying his act at all. "I didn't mean to trouble you. I'll go."

She quickly rose and hurried out the door but not before he could see embarrassed tears leak silently from her eyes. He watched her step out the door and shift uncomfortably unsure where to actually find Clarky before veering to the left toward the elevator bank.

"Poor kid." Lestrade sighed.

He felt that the tip was probably nothing but he made a note to speak to Holmes about it later. It couldn't hurt to mention the name just in case.

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Sherlock let his gaze flicker from John to his computer screen as his mind whirred with possibilities. The flatmates had been sitting in silence since the phone cut off about twenty minutes ago. Mycroft had retrieved the phone, envelope, and letter and then left without a word.

"I knew him from the war." John said quietly.

Sherlock made a small grunt in response but still wasn't quite ready to begin asking his own questions. He was content to let John fill him in at his own discretion.

"He saved my life." John continued. "Saved me, killed a fellow soldier, and got sent home. Because of me."

"It didn't sound like he blamed you." Sherlock ventured.

"He wouldn't." John said letting shame overwhelm his usually steady cadence. "But that doesn't change the facts."

"What are you going to do, John?" Sherlock asked hesitantly feeling hollowness in his gut that lack of sustenance couldn't account for.

"Don't be an idiot, Sherlock." John said rubbing his hands over his face and wandering toward the kitchen.

Sherlock let the soothingly familiar sounds of John cleaning up the kitchen lull him back into an acceptable emotional state: apathy. He breathed a sigh of relief as the familiar sensation of complete objectivity settled over him once again. And in celebration of all being emotionally right with the world, Sherlock called out to John, "Chinese?"

"That sounds brilliant." John answered from washing dishes. "Ginger chicken for me."

Sherlock reached for his phone to place the order and was distracted by a ping alerting him to a new text message:

Possible direction of inquiry by a witness, but probably nothing. Come by The Yard tomorrow if interested. Lestrade.

Sherlock pondered over the text while placing the food order. Witness? Who could possibly have been a witness that hadn't already come forward? More likely just one of those attention-seeking, sycophants who always have "tips" for the police. Something that can definitely be pushed back until tomorrow. He hung up the phone and settled back into his chair with John's laptop. There was more than enough time to deal with annoying individuals tomorrow, right now all he wanted was John's laptop, some Chinese, and the familiar sounds of his flatmate weaving through his consciousness.