Some context:

"Lestrade, you know he's clean. He has been for over a year now."

"Do I know that? Bail is $250."

"That's ridiculous, you know it could've been a lot worse and the fact that it wasn't shows that Sherlock truly wasn't doing anything wrong in his mind."

"And that's why I'm not charging him for illegal drug use."

Now he was behind bars, angry as ever, in a white button down that had come untucked and his dress pants and shoes that had gotten scuffed. His face had a cut above his lip and one above his eyebrow but he didn't seem to care or notice. She had a plane ticket in her purse and her coat buttoned tightly as she was trying to appease him.

"You're leaving me with them?!" Sherlock spat at her.

She rolled her eyes, "Sherlock, I'm paying your bail; they'll let you out at noon."

"But you are going? We are in the middle of a case!" He had a tight grip on the bars as she hissed at her and she shook her head patronizingly.

"Sherlock, dear, you'll be alright without me for two weeks. I trust you." She put her hand over one of his comfortingly.

"Oh, I'm so glad!" His voice was sarcastic but he didn't move from his place as he just glared at his, still difficult to admit it, girlfriend, "I'm not the one that went across the sea to get away from you."

This time Iris laughed before realizing that was a mixed signal as she smiled encouragingly, "That's not true, and you know it. My dad just needs me to come home for a little, Bart's was okay with it, so am I. Now, I've told all the stores and irregulars not to sell you anything. Nicotine patches if at all."

"Those are so boring!" He whined boomingly and I sighed knowing my flight takes off soon, "And are you really trying to teach me a lesson by keeping me here till noon?"

"Yes. Sherlock you cannot have two hundred and forty three types of tobacco ash just sitting in the apartment, not when Lestrade comes over. It's no wonder you got kicked out."

"We- we, got kicked out."

Iris ignored him, "You're lucky Mrs. Hudson is letting you live there till February without rent so you can find a flatmate."

His face eschewed, "I've got you-"

"Of 'course you do, I'm already moved in, but the rent is more there Sherlock, a third would be nice. They can take the room upstairs or downstairs of us." Her voice was sympathetic, and Sherlock saw her logic easily, he had thought so too.

Nodding he agreed, "I'll check up on a few colleagues."

"Alright, and I'll be back, January 31st."

Kissing him quickly through the bars she straightened his tie before running off.

Sherlock was released on time, by the ever enthusiastic Donovan and caught a cab home. He'd find a flatmate… right after he finished this case.

Iris was called home by her father, a family emergency, he called it. He was engaged.

Now. You'll hear both those stories, but in good time.

Serial suicides
SH

You're texting me, so the DI hasn't asked for help yet? Engaged father
IB

Idiots and I am so sorry
SH

Life
IB

Flatmate found. John Watson.
SH

The retired army doctor from Afgahnistan? With a sister named harry who's girlfriend Clara recent walked out on her for her drinking problem which John doesn't approve of? The bachelor private school raised queen and country man? Mike Stanford introduced you?
IB

Yes, except it was Harry's wife that walked out on her.
SH

It was difficult to tell through her comments on his blog
IB

Blog?
SH

Yes, he wrote about meeting you today
IB

Interesting. When do you fly in tomorrow?
SH

I arrive in London at seven pm. 221B?
IB

Asap.
SH

The taxi rode up in the dark to the apartment and as soon as it stopped Iris got out pulling her white gloves on and taking her rolling bag from the seat next to her, "Thank you, good night." She said mindlessly to the cabbie before closing the door and watching him drive off.

She got to the door before realizing she didn't have a key. She buzzed and within seconds a beaming Mrs. Hudson answered the door and Iris smiled in return, "Iris! So good to see you again, Sherlock told me you'd be home shortly. Him and John went out for dinner not too long ago, I'm sure they'll be home soon though. Do you need any help dearie? I can take a bag for you or-"

Grabbing the older woman's hands to stop her fussing, "Mrs. Hudson, I am perfectly fine, thank you though, and thank you so much for keeping Sherlock out of trouble while I was gone." She began going up the stairs listening as Mrs. Hudson got in the last words of 'course.

"Anytime dear and if you need anything-"

"Thank you!" The flat was unlocked to Iris's surprise and she entered before letting go of her bag in surprise. She should've expected it to be messy; she had left Sherlock to move in. Checking her phone she saw…

Anderson is on forensics… I think your father would understand if you never left again
SH

Out for dinner. Back soon
SH

Home
IB

With a shake of her head, Iris went about throwing her case in her's/Sherlock's bedroom and cleaning up the rest of the apartment. She hung coats on the coat hanger, straightened out the mantle and book cases by alphabetical order and neatened the desk and dining room tables. Then came the pink case that was on the desk chair between the two leather chairs. No woman was staying here, Sherlock wouldn't approve, which means it has to do with the serial suicides. Iris left it alone.

It was about then she heard the downstairs door open and slam close. Smiling she continued but then heard Lestrade's voice, "Alright everyone, 221B every spread out." The door opened and Iris was glaring so harshly at the greying man that everyone in the doorway halted.

"Iris, er, Miss Brooke, we have a warrant for search of illegal drugs. Stay out of our way or you will be taken into custody."

She narrowed her eyes at him and took a sideways step allowing Anderson, Donovan and four others past her, "This isn't a drugs bust; Donovan and Anderson don't go on those, what is this really about?"

Lestrade walked past her too and sat in one of the leather arm chairs comfortably and motioned for her to sit in the other one, "Sherlock has to learn he can't be going off on his own with evidence!"

Rolling her eyes she sat in a huff and crossed her arms, "Cannot, he cannot be going off; can't is not the proper contraction. " The sound of things breaking and being tossed around caused her to speak up a bit louder and in a bit more annoyance, "Can you PLEASE try not to touch anything?!"

Greg Lestrade took some pity on the poor girl and defended her, "No unneeded messes, let's not be children, leave things where and how you found them." He nodded to Iris who gave a side smile appreciatively. This isn't what she expected to come home to but, can't say she was surprised.

"Miss Brooke, now is your only time to admit if there is anything left in this flat? Anything you forgot or misplaced?"

"Nothing." She said confidently and she fell even more into the chair closing her eyes and trying to ignore everyone tearing the flat apart.

The downstairs door opened and closed again and she let out a small sigh of relief. She heard two sets of feet bound up the stairs. The door opened with haste to reveal her Sherlock in his usual suit and button down while she could tell he was defensive already; and the other man- John Watson. As Sherlock stood directly in front of her he asked Lestrade, "What are you doing?"

Lestrade shrugged and Iris continued inspecting the man in the white sweater with the cane in his hand yet he wasn't using it, "Well I knew you'd find the case, I'm not stupid."

"You can't just break into my flat." It was only then that Sherlock took notice of Iris and he was caught between smiling and being angry so he simply moved to kiss her forehead while she tensely sat in her chair and she relaxed a little bit not much.

"Well you can't withhold evidence." Iris rolled her eyes at their grammar and realized that the medical army doctor was looking at her curiously and she winked relaxing a bit more, "And I didn't break into your flat, Iris let me in."

"Nope." She popped the 'p' sitting up a bit to be attentive.

Sherlock indicated to her and asked, "Then what do you call this?"

"It's a drugs bust."

Sherlock looked to Iris and Iris to Sherlock as they both knew what the other was thinking. John was out of the loop, "Seriously? This guy? A junkie?" Iris nodded towards the doctor and Sherlock took the hint, "Have you met him?"

"John…"Sherlock tried to interrupt while Lestrade watched amused.

"I'm pretty sure you could search this flat all day and you wouldn't find anything you could call recreational." Iris smiled at the passion her spoke with in defense of a man he just met, even if it was misguided.

"John, you probably want to shut up now." Sherlock stopped him this time catching his attention while Iris looked to Lestrade.

"Yea but come on."… "No."

"What?"

"You?"

"Oh shut up!"

Iris stood and walked behind her chair, "Lestrade, if I hear one more thing get thrown… this is a joke!"

Sherlock added, "I'm not your sniffer dog!"

"No Anderson's my sniffer dog." He was used to having those two shouting at him.

The ugly little man with the bad haircut waved from the dining room with his glove and Sherlock shouted, "Anderson! What are you doing here on a drugs bust?"

"Oh I volunteered." Iris took about three steps towards him, enough to make him shout, "I'm not breaking things I swear."

"Back down Iris, I know you hate handcuffs as much as your boyfriend, and they've all volunteered. They aren't technically on the drugs squad but they are very keen."

"Are these human eyes?" Sherlock rolled his eyes understanding how bad this was yet frustrated at stupidity.

"Put those back!" Sherlock pointed and Iris took a deep breath, she hadn't cleaned the kitchen yet luckily.

"They were in the microwave?" Donovan was mortified and Iris couldn't help but stifle a laugh at her.

"It's an experiment." Sherlock and Iris said at the same time, Iris with a laugh and Sherlock in annoyance.

Lestrade still sat back enjoying the show, "Keep looking, guys." John was watching everyone and also the chestnut colored hair girl that looked like she wanted to kick them all out.

"Excuse me?" The doctor asked the girl and she snapped out of her distraction thinking to look at him, "Who are you?"

She reached out a hand with a pleasant smile, "Iris Brooke, and you must be John Watson. Sherlock's told me about you."

"Oh!" John looked a bit shocked looking between the tall man watching out the window and this friendly woman, "You're Iris, he hasn't told me that much about you except that you generally keep the place clean and run forensics." He was eyeing the girl and Sherlock watched from the window at the two.

"Or you could start helping us properly," Lestrade, who got too bored with simply causing mayhem, stood from his comfortable seat to face Sherlock and the room quieted again, "And I'll stand them down."

Iris shrugged and whispered, "That's all there really is to tell you."

"This is childish!" Sherlock reminded them as he walked past Lestrade and looked at Iris for help.

Brushing his arm Iris spoke past him to Lestrade, "Didn't you tell your people not to behave like children?"

Desperately Lestrade motioned to Sherlock who paced, "Well now, I'm dealing with a child."

"A child smarter than you." Iris said quickly and Lestrade raised his eyebrows at her in surprise before just sort of nodding.

"That may be but this is our case, Sherlock, I'm letting you in, but you do not go off on your own. Clear?"

"So what? You set up a pretend drugs bust to bully me?" John looked at Iris who watched the two with her arms crossed.

The detective's chin lifted just an inch, accusingly, "It stops being 'pretend' if they find anything." The tone of Lestrade's words was foreboding but at Iris turning from the argument john realized the possibility of the man he had just moved in with.

"I am clean." Sherlock declared with finality as he looked around the apartment.

Lestrade had another question, "Is your flat? All of it?"

Sherlock looked at Iris but she was unamused and shook her head, he rolled up his sleeve in efforts to convince Lestrade to call off everyone still, "I don't even smoke."

Lestrade rolled up his own sleeve to compare nicotine patches, "Neither do I. So let's work together."

A glass broke in the kitchen and Iris snapped, "Lestrade call them off this fucking moment!"

"I've baited you with handcuffs once, don't make the threat real." Lestrade spoke to the girl smaller than him but with the glare of a dagger.

Sherlock looked towards him with a matching glare, "You wouldn't dare, and you don't have handcuffs on you right now."

Lestrade knew Sherlock had just pickpocketed him but again looking at the uncomfortable girl he spoke, "Alright, take five everyone, relax." The tension relaxed just a bit in the room as Iris took a deep breath and stretched a bit as Lestrade kept talking, "We've found Rachel."

That had the consulting Detective's interest piqued, "Who is she?"

"Jennifer Wilson's only daughter."

"Her daughter? Why would she write her daughter's name? Why?" Sherlock was confused and Iris was trying to latch onto the point of the case without any context.

Anderson spoke up again, pointing, "Never mind that. We found the case. According to someone, the murderer has the case, and we found it in the hands of our favorite psychopath."

Throwing a despairing glance to the man Sherlock spoke tersely, "I'm not a psychopath, Anderson. I'm a high-functioning sociopath, do your research." Iris knew he was exaggerating but could see the similarities, "You need to bring Rachel in; you need to question her; I need to question her."

"She's dead."

"Excellent! How, when, and why? Is there a connection? There has to be."

"Well, I doubt it, she's been dead for fourteen years. Technically she was never alive. Rachel was Jennifer Wilson's still born daughter, fourteen years ago." Faces fell at the grim words and Iris put it together with a frown. She hated that word, 'still-born'.

Sherlock shook his head, "No, that's…that's not right. How? Why would she do that? Why?"

Anderson again took the moment to speak, "Why would she think of her daughter in her last moments? Yep, sociopath; I'm seeing it now."

"That's too big of a word for you to understand Anderson." Iris spoke as she got it, "If I understand this right, the woman wrote the man of her still born daughter before she killed herself?"

Sherlock nodded, "But she didn't just think about her daughter, the name was written in the floor boards by Jennifer Wilson's fingernails. She was dying, it would take effort. It would've hurt." Sherlock regained his pace and move his hands.

John added helpfully, "You said that all victims took the poison themselves, that he makes them take it. Well maybe he… I don't know, talks to them? Maybe he used the death of her daughter somehow?"

"She was an adulterer wasn't she?" Iris asked and John nodded surprised at her knowing that, "After an event like that it would be common for her to turn to that, be ashamed, nothing left, but she had spirit to live. To tell us something, Rachel."

Sherlock stopped and turned to his partners, "Yeah, but that was ages ago, why would she still be upset?" Everyone in the room stopped, falling silent. Sherlock looked around the room awkwardly and then between John and Iris, who sighed almost silently, "Not good?"

Iris didn't answer but she shook her head and John looked around before agreeing, "Bit not good, yea."

Unimpressed he just continued asking John, "Yeah, but if you were dying, if you'd been murdered: in your very last few seconds what would you say?"

Iris watched intently inspecting the man she'd be sharing a flat with as he answered, "Please, God, let me live." He was honest.

"Oh, use your imagination!"

"I don't have to." Iris smiled and nodded as she realized people had gone back to searching quietly as to not upset her which made her actually feel better.

Sherlock speak apologetically, but without apology, "Yeah, but if you were clever, really clever… Jennifer Wilson running all those lovers, she was clever. She's trying to tell us something."

Mrs. Hudson appeared in the doorway, "Sherlock, your taxi's here."

"I didn't order a taxi. Go away." Iris moved to the doorway and shook her head to Mrs. Hudson apologetically.

The older woman's hand covered her mouth concerned, "Oh, dear. They're making such a mess. What are they looking for?"

"It's a drugs bust." John said calmly and Iris rolled her eyes.

Frightened Mrs. Hudson explained, "But they're just for my hip, they're herbal soothers."

Iris smiled assuring the woman, "Don't worry Mrs. Hud-"

"Shut up, everybody, shut up! Don't move, don't speak, don't breathe. I'm trying to think. Anderson, face the other way, you're putting me off." Sherlock was shouting and Iris moved towards him slowly as to not frighten him.

"What? My face is?"

Lestrade overpowered Anderson's claims, "Everybody quiet and still. Anderson, turn your back."

"Oh for god's sake!"

"Your back, now, please!" Lestrade did have confidence that Sherlock could figure this out and Iris was trying to think but had very little to go off of.

Speaking to himself under his breath yet loudly, "Come on, think. Quick!"

Inopportunely Mrs. Hudson spoke up again, "What about your taxi?"

"MRS HUDSON!" Then he got it. The woman had run off and Iris debated running after her but Sherlock began explaining, "Ah! She was clever, clever, yes! She's cleverer than you lot and she's dead!" He gave a wave of the hand that dismissed Iris in that statement, "Do you see, do you get it? She didn't lose her phone, she never lost it. She planted it on him." With no encouragement from anyone he looked to Iris for support, "When she got out of the car, she knew she was going to her death. She left the phone in order to lead us to her killer."

Iris nodded putting together the pieces, "Alright, pink phone left in the car supposed to lead someone to her."

Lestrade interceded, "But how?"

Sherlock looked at him agape, "Wha..what do you mean how?" The detective shrugged and Sherlock put out his hands, "Rachel!"

He looked around expectantly before grabbing Iris's shoulders "Oh, come on, a dying woman leaves us a gate to lead us to the killer. Then she wrote for us the…?"

Iris clapped, "Oh!" Smiling he mirrored her smile, "I get it!"

Sherlock nodded in response, letting go of her. Turning to the rest of the room he was so hopeful, "Don't you see? Rachel!" He waited for everyone else and Iris was still smiling, "Oh look at you all so vacant. It must be nice not being me, must be so relaxing."

Iris stepped to stand next to him and explain past his rude comment, "Rachel wasn't meant to tell us a name, it's a passcode."

"John there on the luggage, there's a label, e-mail address."

Sherlock took a seat at the desk with John's laptop open on it, " .uk."

"Oh, I've been too slow. She didn't have a laptop, which means she did her business on her phone, so it's a smart phone; it's email enabled."

Iris then looked to everyone, "And the password is?"

John stood and walked to them, "Rachel."

"So we can read her emails. So what?"

"Don't talk aloud Anderson you lower the IQ of the whole street."

Iris cut off Sherlock afraid of him offending more people than needed, "Smartphones these days all have the most helpful app, a GPS, so anyone who loses theirs, they can find it by going online. She's leading us right to the man who killed her."

Lestrade shrugged, "Unless he got rid of it."

Iris was about to speculate but John assured them both, "We know he didn't."

The computer was loading and Sherlock hit the desk impatiently, "Come on, come on!" Iris sighed knowing shouting wouldn't make it go quicker and turned instead to pace.

"Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson interrupted them, "Dear, this taxi driver…"

Sherlock pushed back violently and walked towards the woman, "Mrs. Hudson, isn't it time for your evening soother?" John took Sherlock's seat and Iris keyed to watching out the window casually to see the taxi Mrs. Hudson kept talking about.

"We need to get vehicles, get a helicopter. Sherlock was talking to Lestrade and John was preoccupied with the computer screen and Iris eyed the cab. It was normal, but Sherlock hadn't called a cab, so why was it here? It didn't bring anyone did it? No, Mrs. Hudson would've mentioned it, "We're going to have to move fast. This phone battery won't last forever."

"We'll have a map reference, that's not a name."

"It's a start!" Sherlock focused on and he moved in on the computer as John called him over.

"What is it? Where?" Sherlock demanded looking over John's shoulder and Iris looked over.

John straightened up, "It's here. It's in two two one Baker street." Sherlock also stood straight and everyone looked around at each other as Iris continued to try and understand, were they in this flat?

"How can it be here? How?"

"Well maybe it was in the case when you brought it here and it fell out somewhere." Sherlock looked at Iris and she shook her head.

If she didn't see it when she cleaned up then it wasn't out of the case around that area, "What? And I didn't notice? Me? I didn't notice?"

John defended Sherlock again, "We called him and he called back." If he called back then he must have the phone.

Lestrade begun talking to his police drones again, "Guys, we're also looking for a mobile phone, belonged to the victim, pink coloured case." Iris watched people begin searching again and she looked over John's shoulder for verification of her own.

The phone was in the building, "Sherlock, you okay?" John asked and Iris didn't even turn to check but waited for an answer even as John hit her shoulder for her attention.

"What?" Iris looked up at that answer even as he covered it with, "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

Iris touched his back lightly and yet Sherlock spun to face her like he had been burned and then looked at John who asked, "So how can the phone be here?"

"Don't know."

"I'll try it again."

"Good idea." Iris caught onto her friend and grabbed his sleeve as he tried to walk towards the door.

John caught the interaction, "Where are you going?"

"Just outside, bit of fresh air, won't be long." Sherlock said to John but then looked to Iris and nodded but she didn't let go. Rolling his eyes he looked around before inconspicuously pulling her out of the room, "Ris, I'm going outside."

Iris shook her head, "Sherlock, you don't know who's in that cab." She almost figured it out, Sherlock thought and he smiled goofily.

"I'd assume the driver."

She hit his chest, "This isn't funny."

"Ris, you know I love myself too much to kill myself. Wait ten minutes and come after me. No militia though." His tone was barely a whisper and Iris shook her head but agreed begrudgingly.

"Fine."

"Thank you." He said sincerely before pecking her lips quickly and smoothly before hurrying down the steps.

She went back into the flat and caught John looking directly at her, curious, "Where did he go?"

Shrugging she walked to his side, "To do what he does best, think. Are you running the search again?"

John seemed to be reminded of that task and he quickly got back to requesting it, "Oh, yea, maybe it messed up the first time or something." Iris nodded considering the possibilities of search time versus weather the cab had left. Then the engine was heard outside and John jumped to the door but Iris just nodded.

"He just got in a cab and drove away." John was shocked and Iris shook her head.

"I told you, he does that." Donovan commented distastefully and Iris hid a glare at her.

John turned to Iris, "You knew he was leaving."

Iris raised her eyebrows in a playful manner but before she could reply Donovan spoke again, "What does it matter? What does any of this matter? He's just a lunatic and he'll always let you down, and you're wasting our time. All our time."

"Okay everybody, done here." Lestrade said and the 'drugs squad' began to pack up as Iris shook her head and went to the window, then the computer. It still wasn't loading and she looked at John as people filed out of the apartment.

She turned to look up at the disappointed Lestrade, "Why did he do that?" Lestrade turned to John knowing that even if Iris knew, she wouldn't say, "Why did he have to leave?"

"You both know him better than I do."

Lestrade shared a look with Iris, "I've known him for five years, and no, I don't."

John looked between the Sherlock regulars, "So why do you put up with him?" He asked and Iris looked confused while Lestrade shrugged.

"Because I'm desperate that's why." With his coat on he moved towards the door before remembering the constant pleas from Iris that she could help him and he added, "And because Sherlock Holmes is a great man. And I think, one day, if we are very, very, lucky, he may even be a good one."

As Lestrade walked down the stairs John looked to Iris who was still waiting on the computer getting more anxious and she stood to pace it off, "And your story?" She froze to see him standing like a soldier, wide base and arms behind back. She put her feet together and had one hand by her side and the other in a salute. Rolling his eyes John smiled, "Alright, alright, at ease."

She smiled and stood relaxed with her wrist in her hand behind her back, "Sherlock Holmes is a very bright person, that's true. But he's also someone that, if you're smart, you cannot walk away from him. It's like playing with fire, feels amazing and looks cool but there is a threat to it. If you're smart, the threat only makes the circumstances better."

John inspected her for a while before tilting his head, "Are you two dating?" He thought they were, but still they seemed so different.

The computer beeped and they both looked at it in order before hurrying to it, the address had changed and John grabbed the laptop while Iris was halfway down the stairs already, "Off we go."

She got to the street first and called a cab. They both got in and John handed her the computer to give the cabbie directions while he called the police department.

After a few lefts they found themselves at a college with two buildings and John gave up on Lestrade, leaving him a message with the location while taking the computer back and putting it in his pocket as they got out. Iris looked between the buildings and pointed to the right one, "You take right. I take left."

John shook his head, "You get hurt and-"

"I'll be fine, Lestrade will get the message, now go!" He nodded to her and she saw him slip out his gun. Good. She ran into the left building going through the first floor without a care and yet not shouting. She would prefer not give herself away. She checked every room and closet as she ran, and just as she reached the third floor she heard a door close and she ran knowing that was her hint.

Trying to move silently she got to the door at the end of the door just in time to burst through the door to a gunshot. She screamed.

Sherlock slid over the desk to look through the window for the shooter only to see no one while Iris took deep breaths and moved to look at the man bleeding on the floor, "Sherlock?" She called him and he moved to the man quickly.

"I was right wasn't I? Did I get it right?" Sherlock was shouting at the old man holding the white and red speckled pill in his face and Iris moved away as Sherlock threw the pill at the pill, "Alright, tell me this, who is your sponsor? The one who told you about me? The fan? I need a name!" Sherlock was angry and frustrated and Iris looked at the two empty cases on the table.

"No." The man creaked out and Sherlock looked around exasperated.

"You're dying but there's still time to hurt you. Give me a name." Iris moved to Sherlock's side silently as the man shook his head and Sherlock pressed his foot down on the dying man's wound, "A name!" Getting more angry with no answer he shouted louder, "The name!"

And so with pressure being pressed on his arm and blood on Sherlock's shoe, the man screamed, "MORIARTY!" Iris immediately grabbed Sherlock's shoulder and pulled him back from torturing the man and he obliged stepping back a few steps and putting his arm around her back.

Sirens could be heard and she could see Sherlock saying the name over and over again trying to place it but he couldn't, "You okay?"

Sherlock looked at her as soon as she spoke and he shook it off, "Me?" She nodded and he smiled pulling her side closer to his with his arm as the started walking towards the door, "Fantastic, yourself?"

"Just peachy." She replied matching his tone and they laughed as they walked back down the halls, "I'm glad I am gone for a few days and I almost miss a serial killer and a drugs bust."

"Oh, didn't I tell you, that was your welcome home party."

They walked out and Lestrade immediately got filled in between the two of them and Sherlock was led to the ambulance where they placed an orange blanket around his shoulders. Iris walked over to where John was standing on the sidelines and winked at him which he smiled to, "Good work soldier."

He nodded in reply, "I was a bit afraid I had shot you when you ran in."

She let out a low whistle, "You'd only be hurting yourself; I'm helping pay the rent; remember?" John laughed good naturedly as he looked around.

"So does this happen often?"

She shrugged, "Drugs busts, no, police cars, yes."

"Good thing I do like that siren then." John said sarcastically before catching Sherlock's eye, "I think I just got caught."

Iris followed his eye, turning and laughed, "Yep, caught."

Sherlock reached them and threw his orange blanket over a car as John tried covering, "Iris was just filling me in, two pills, dreadful business, truly dreadful."

Looking between the aloof John and the ever friendly Iris he smiled, "Good shot."

"Must have been." John didn't miss a beat, "The go through that window, it'd be difficult."

"You would know." Sherlock said and John gave up silently, "Did you get the powder burns out of your fingers. I doubt you'd serve time for this but let's avoid the court case." John coughed and Sherlock showed concern, "Are you alright?"

"Yes, ofcourse I'm alright."

"You have just killed a man." Weird, that statement was so overused around Sherlock and Iris neither flinched anymore, and either did John.

"Yeah, that's true." Then John lightened the mood altogether, "But he wasn't a very nice man."

"No, no he wasn't was he?" Sherlock agreed and Iris smiled at the humor building.

Pointing at Sherlock she added, "He didn't even give you water to take the pills with."

Sherlock smiled, "Inconsiderate if you ask me."

"And frankly a bloody awful cabbie." The three of them laughed before starting to walk in the opposite direction of the crime.

Sherlock put his hands in his pockets as he walked in the middle of his two flatmates, "No not at all, you should've seen the route he took to get me here."

Again they laughed and John tried reconciling it with, "Stop, we can't giggle, it's a crime scene."

"What crime was commited again?" Iris asked coyly.

"You're the one that shot him, don't blame me." Sherlock said smartly and John debated hitting both of them.

Iris Shh-ed him at the same time that John scolded him, "Keep your voice down."

Donovan was casually walking by and looked over at the trio but between their mutters kept walking.

"You were going to take that damn pill weren't you?"

"Course I wasn't. Biding my time. Knew you'd turn up."

"No, you didn't. You told Iris but she couldn't have taken the shot. That's how you get your kicks isn't it, risking your life to prove you're clever."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because you're an idiot."

Sherlock smiled rolling his eyes, "He sounds like you!" He chimed to Iris who laughed and held out her hand to John.

"Welcome to the club." He took her hand in a hand shake and it hit Sherlock that Iris likes introductions.

"Oh, sorry," They both looked at him curiously, "I forgot, Iris this is our flatmate John, John this is my girlfriend, Iris." Iris smiled at her title and John raised his eyebrows at it.

"We took care of it Sherlock, but I appreciate the act. And John, I do believe these arrangements will work out perfectly." He still couldn't believe that Sherlock, the man he would've thought to be asexual, dating this girl who smiled a lot and laughed and had some people skills.

"Dinner?" Sherlock asked and they both looked at him before Iris looked at John.

Surprised at being the deciding factor, he shrugged, "Sure."

"End of Baker street, there's a good Chinese." Sherlock offered.

Remembering exactly where he was talking about, "I liked that place, you can always tell a good chinese place by the bottom third of the door handle, am I right?"

"Percisely Ri-"

"Sherlock, that's him." John motioned to a man exiting a car on the side of the street, "That's the man I was talking to you about." Filling Iris in, he added, "Sherlock's archenemy."

Noticing the man Iris laughed, "Arch enemy? Sherlock really? Were you trying to scare Watson here?"

Sherlock didn't smile he simply walked intently towards the blondish stubby man and glared as the man spoke, "So, another case cracked, how very public spirited, but that's never really your motivation, is it?"

Angrily Sherlock asked, "What are you doing here?" Iris rolled her eyes, she was glad she never attended their family dinners, however many times invited.

"As ever, I'm concerned about you."

"Yes I've been hearing about your concern."

Iris spoke up, "Apparently you've scared our new resident doctor, let me guess, creepy phone trick?"

"Wait? How did you-?" John got cut off by Mycroft again.

"Oh Iris pleasure as always, the two of you are always so aggressive. Sherlock, did it never occur to you that you and I belong on the same side?"

"Oddly enough, no." Sherlock said lightly and sarcastically.

"We have more in common than you'd like to believe." Well they were both very smart, "This petty feud between us is simply childish, people will suffer. And you know how much it upsets Mummy."

"I upset her?" Iris had heard about this and hearing Sherlock allude to it made her remember the day, "It wasn't me that upset her, Mycroft!"

John had finally had enough and cut in, "No, no wait, Mummy? Who's Mummy?"

"It's their mother, bit like Meryl Streep if you ask me." Iris explained giving some context and Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"This is my brother, Mycroft. Gaining weight again?"

"Losing it, in fact."

Still a bit lost John asks another question again, "He's your brother?"

"Of 'course he's my brother."

"So he's not, I don't know a criminal mastermind?" Iris tilted her head thoughtfully, she could see where he got that impression.

"Close enough."

Mycroft sighed, "For goodness sakes, I occupy a minor position in the British Government."

"In which he is the British government." Iris defined and Sherlock pointed to her.

"That's only when he's not too busy being British secret service, or the CIA on a freelance basis. Good evening Mycroft, try not to start a war before I get home, you know what it does to the traffic." Sherlock walked off, Iris not far behind and Jon stayed to ask a few questions before catching up to Sherlock muttering, "I can always predict the fortune cookies."

Iris snorted and John called him out, "No, you can't."

"Almost can, you did get shot though?"

"Excuse me?" John asked, even looking to iris for explanation but she shrugged looking at his gait.

"In Afghanistan, there was an actual wound?"

"Oh, yeah, in the shoulder."

"The shoulder I knew it."

John looked between the geniuses, "No you didn't."

"The left one." The two spoke at once and then looked at each other in agreement.

"Lucky guess." John said understanding the looks he's been getting from Iris all night, she was figuring him out like Sherlock did.

"I never guess."

"And I'm rarely lucky."

"We really should start a club." John chuckled before catching the smile on Sherlock's face, it wasn't one of humor but of thought, "What are you so happy about?"

"Moriarty."

"Which is?" Iris asked hoping he had figured it out.

"Absolutely no idea."

They had found a new friend- Dr. John Watson.