John woke up. His head was hurt. He opened his eyes and looked around. He was at some kind of a tunnel. His wrists hurt him. He tried to pull them to him, but he couldn't. He sat on some sort of chair, and his hands were tied behind his back. Dana was sitting next to him, saying something quietly through a gag in her mouth. She looked scared, but not as terrified as he expected her to be. The opera singer from the circus was there. They both looked at her. John looked at her with confusion, but Dana's eyes widened. Not with fear, but with understanding. She saw something John didn't, and he wondered what it is.

"'A book is like a magic garden carried in your pocket.' She paused for a moment. "Chinese proverb, Mr. Holmes."

John looked at her, startled.

"I… I'm not Sherlock Holmes."

"Forgive me if I don't take your word for it." she said and smiled humourlessly. John looked at Dana helplessly. She looked forward, staring at the air, and looked like she's either about to laugh or to cry. He wasn't sure if he should be offended she thought it is amusing that he was mistaken to be Sherlock. She continues to argue with John about why they 'know' he's Sherlock, but Dana didn't listen. She just stared. She found the situation exciting, interesting. But then she thought of Mycroft. What would he do if anything bad happens to her? Will he be sad? Angry? One thing she knew for sure – He'll blame Sherlock for it, and the last thing she wanted was to cause more fights between the two. She wondered if he'll cry over her. But then she heard a gun and suddenly became aware of what's going on again.

"Three times we tried to kill you and your companion, Mr. Holmes. What does it tell you when an assassin cannot shoot straight?" Shan said as she pointed a pistol to his head. He cringed away from it, holding in a panic breathe. Shan grinned. Dana understood now why Sherlock had described her in such an... Intimidating way. Shan lifted her other hand and cocked the pistol. John whispered "don't, don't", and he struggles against his bonds. Dana then became truly scared. She really did fear for his life. John breathed out heavily as her finger tightened on the trigger. John stared into the barrel of the gun, his face full of terror as she pulled the trigger all the way. The gun clicked. John grunted in shock, and Shan smiled smugly.

It tells you that they're not really trying."" John breathed heavily, trying to get control of himself. Dana let out the air she was holding in relief.

"Not blank bullets now."

That sentence annoyed Dana for some reason. They weren't blank bullets before - that gun was empty.

"Okay." John said breathily.

"If we wanted to kill you, Mr. Holmes, we would have done it by now. We just wanted to make you inquisitive."

She looked at him sternly.

"Do you have it?"

"Do I have what?"

"The treasure."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I would prefer to make certain." she said and turned away.

She looked at her men who stood there and simply looked intimidating so far. He pulled the cover off a large object to reveal the crossbow which was used at the circus. An arrow was already loaded in it. John stared at it and sighed deeply. Shan turned back to him.

"Everything in the West has its price. And the price for her life..."

John turns and stared at Dana.

"...information."

The two men walked over and picked up Dana's chair. Her eyes widened, this time with fear, and she tried to free her hands.

"Sorry. I'm sorry." said John anguished, under his breath.

The men set the chair down on the other side of the crossbow, putting Sarah facing the arrow tip and directly in line with it. She stared at it, breathing heavily and tugging in vain at the ropes tying her to the chair. Shan glared down at John.

"Where's the hairpin?"

"What?" he said, tugging at his own bonds in spite of the pistol aimed at him.

"The Empress pin valued at nine million sterling. We already had a buyer in the West; and then one of our people was greedy. He took it, brought it back to London and you, Mr. Holmes, have been searching." "Please. Please, listen to me. I'm not ... I'm not Sherlock Holmes. You have to believe me. I haven't found whatever it is you're looking for." "I need a volunteer from the audience!" she said loudly. "No, please. Please." John said desperately, as if she'll listen to him. "Ah, thank you, lady. Yes, you'll do very nicely." Shan said and walked towards Dana. Dana tried to say something through her gag, tugging desperately at her ropes. Shan smiled, took out a knife and reached up to the sandbag suspended over a pulley hanging from the ceiling. She stabbed the knife into the bag and sand began to pour out. Dana continued to struggle at her bonds as John sighed out an appalled breath and stared up at the bag in horror. Shan smiled and looked around at her audience.

"Ladies and gentlemen. From the distant moonlit shores of NW1, we present for your pleasure Sherlock Holmes' pretty companion in a death-defying act."

"Please!"

Shan walked over to Dana and placed a black origami lotus flower on her lap.

"You've seen the act before. How dull for you. You know how it ends.

"I'm not Sherlock Holmes!" he said frantically once more.

"I don't believe you." Shan said once more.

"You should, you know." said a familiar voice.

Shan spinned around as a familiar silhouette appeared at the far end of the tunnel.

"Sherlock Holmes is nothing at all like him." Sherlock said.

Shan raised her pistol, cocked it and aims it towards him. He immediately dodged to the side of the tunnel, disappearing into the shadows. One of Shan's thugs started to hurry towards the end of the tunnel.

"How would you describe me, John? Resourceful? Dynamic? Enigmatic?" said Sherlock's from the darkness, as John sighed out a half-relieved, half-exasperated breath.

"Late?" said John tetchily. Dana frowned at him and gave him an angry look of 'Really? Are you really joking about this now?'. John was surprised by her anger. Being angry requires a certain amount of calmness, which he did not understand how she had.

Only she wasn't calm. She wasn't calm at all. Her mind was sharp, yes, but her heart was racing. She had only feared like this once before in her life, and it wasn't anything she liked to think of.

Everything happened quickly then. Sherlock tried to untie her bonds several times, and got strangled several times. The men fought, but all Dana could see in the sand flowing out of the bag, every second bringing her death closer and closer. John tried to get up and walk, tied to his chair, but her fell down. Just a second before the arrow was released he managed to push the crossbow with his leg. The arrow was shot and it hit the man who was fighting Sherlock. The man fell down and Sherlock straightened up and grunted. They heard distant running footsteps, and Sherlock looked around and searched for their source, but distracted by Dana's breathings. She wasn't sobbing, not even crying, but she was breathing heavily. She looked down to the floor and simply breathed. Sherlock dropped to his knees beside her.

"It's alright." he said soothingly.

He untied her gag and took it from her mouth.

"You're gonna be alright. It's over now. It's over." he said softly and stroked his hands comfortingly down her arms. Then he bent over and untied her bonds.