on tumblr? my personal one is thesecitystreets and my fanfic one is sherlockian87

:)

Puzzle Solver


Sherlock woke with a start, momentarily forgetting where he was. His mind felt too blank, too clear. It was quiet. Closing his eyes again he forced himself to focus. Everything began to drift back in. Moriarty, Brook, Albert Fall. Suddenly he saw the image of Molly's naked form beneath him. His eyes flew open. He remembered everything now. He felt Molly shift against him, the brush of her naked skin against his. He looked down at her. Her lips were slightly parted, her hair falling over her face. He knew that at an earlier time he would have hated her for what he had done; forcing him to give in to his own bodily desires. He didn't hate her though. Couldn't hate her. He was in fact grateful for what she had done; his mind did feel clearer now. He would be able to view the case afresh. Ever so slowly he began to move away from her.

Oh no you don't!

Molly's voice broke through the silence of the room, "Don't you dare Sherlock Holmes! You are eating a full meal before returning to the case!"

He fell back against the pillows with an annoyed humph, "Molly!"

She slipped her body up over his, straddling his stomach, "Sherlock!"

Residing himself to the fact that she would not back down, he let out a sigh before cupping her face and bringing her down to him for a kiss. Letting out a sigh of her own she returned the kiss before slipping off of him.

"Put some clothes on. Then ..." She glanced at the clock; did we really sleep for that long? "Breakfast!"

After they are both dressed he followed her into the dining room where John and Mary are already seated. Mary wiggled her eyebrows at Molly suggestively, causing a blush to rise on her cheeks. Mycroft is nowhere in sight. Sherlock is grateful for this, not exactly wanting his brother as a witness to the fact that Molly Hooper has all but just wrapped him around her finger.

Sitting himself down beside her he poured himself a cup of coffee as Molly prepared a plate for him. She set in down in front of him, before pouring herself a cup of coffee. John stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth as Sherlock picked up a slice of toast and took a bite.

"You got him to eat?" John mouthed silently to Molly.

She smiled gleefully at him before glancing at Sherlock. He doesn't see this silent conversation, his eyes focused on his wall. She gave him a gentle nudge with her elbow. He finished his toast and dove into his eggs.

Molly: 2, Sherlock: 0!

Between bites of egg and toast he had returned his gaze to the wall, his eyes roaming over the images.

"I O U." Bite of toast, "Albert Fall." Chew. Swallow. "A. Fall." The rest of the toast dropped from Sherlock's fingers, " Fall." He jumped to his feet, rushing over to the collection of photos.

" Fall? He murdered that man because his name shortened is A. Fall?" Molly questioned.

"It would appear so."

Mycroft walked into the room just as Sherlock answered her. He spun about facing him, "I need a list of the name of every area in Scotland, including the islands. And maps. I need maps. I believe Richard Brook is in Scotland."


The table was littered with maps and lists. Sherlock had been pouring over them for hours. Mycroft hadn't been seen for sometime now. Molly, Mary and John hadn't left the dining room, knowing all too well how Sherlock had the tendency to ask for someone (John) to hand him something (usually his mobile, which always happened to be in his jacket pocket).

"Inverness, Orkney, Ullapool. I O U. No! That doesn't make any sense!" Sherlock shoved away the map he had been studying, moving on to a different one, "John! Give me the list of the buildings that Brook was seen entering." He held his hand out, never look up from the map.

John gave him a weary expression. The paper that Sherlock wanted was directly beside his elbow. Molly covered her mouth with her hand, trying not to laugh. John handed the paper to Sherlock. He took it, at last tearing his eyes away from the map. He studied the list, his eyes moving rapidly over the names.

"It's a skip code. But not of whole words; letters. Just like in his first message. I O U." He put the paper down, "Pen." John tossed him one, Sherlock catching it perfectly.

"L, O, C, H, L, A, N, E."

Molly had walked over to see what he was writing down, "Lochlane. Lochlane?"

Sherlock lifted his head, "This must be where Brook is." He grabbed at the map, pulling it closer muttering "Lochlane" under his breath as he searched for it, "Here." He tapped his finger tip upon the spot, "That's forty-eight kilometers from us."

John, Mary and Molly leaned forward to look at the spot where Sherlock had pointed to.

"So, what do we do now then? Just go and show up there?"

Sherlock stared at John with a bit of disdain, "No. I need to make contact with him first, let him know I figured out his little puzzle."

"Contact him? How?"

Sherlock was about to answer Molly when his eyes lit up with a thought, "I know exactly." He pulled his mobile out of his pocket and opened up his contacts list. He scrolled through it until he came to James Moriarty.

"You kept his number?"

Sherlock shrugged, "Let's see if he'll answer."

John held back a biting remark. Molly could practically see the words forming over his head in a speech bubble. Oh yes, let's see if a dead man can text from beyond the grave! Sherlock was oblivious to this as he began to tap away on his phone.

"I'm ready to come out and play. LOCHLANE – SH"

Everyone waited with bated breath; neither of them sure if this would work. Well, Sherlock was rather certain. A reply didn't come until several minutes later.

"Expected to hear from you sooner. I'm looking forward to at last meeting you, The Great Sherlock Holmes. Come alone. NO GUNS. NO PHONES. I'll know if you bring them. Do be sure to bring your doctors. – RB"

Molly sucked in a breath as she read the message. Sherlock turned and looked at her.

"You told me you wanted to stay by my side. Do you still want to do that?"

Without a moments hesitation she nodded yes. He stood and walked towards the door.

"I need to let Mycroft know about these new developments. Ready yourselves, we will be leaving soon."

Mary grabbed on to her husband's arm, "I'm coming with you."

John turned towards her, "No Mary, you're not."

"But John!"

He cradled her face in his hands, "Scarlett needs you. I'll never forgive myself if something happened to both of us, leaving her an orphan."

Molly slipped quietly away, giving them their privacy. She didn't know where Sherlock had disappeared to so she decided to go to their room.

How does one prepare to go and meet a madman?

Sherlock entered the bedroom, breaking in to her thoughts. He pulled her to him, holding her close, "I won't let Brook hurt you." He spoke this into her hair.

She tightened her hold on him, "I won't let him hurt you either."

They stood like this for a number of minutes.

"What does he want Sherlock? What is he going to do?"

"He wants to end me, destroy all that I care about. He can't exist while I'm alive. Consulting Criminal competing against the Consulting Detective."

Molly leaned back so that she could look up at Sherlock, "Is that what he is though, a Consulting Criminal like his brother? Or is he just an insane man set on revenge? If what Moriarty said about Richard Brook is true, then he is just an actor, a storyteller."

"Yes. And he must have played a much larger part in bringing me down than I realized. He won't win this time though. Not this time."

A half an hour later John, Molly and Sherlock were ready to leave. Sherlock had shown Molly how to conceal the knives upon her person. She would be the only one carrying a weapon. Mycroft had assured them that he would have both ears and eyes on them at all times. Molly didn't want to know how exactly Mycroft would accomplish this without Brook being able to detect it.

They took a car and drove to Lochlane. The journey took them a little less than an hour. Mycroft's surveillance footage had shown one abandoned factory in the area. It was to here that Sherlock drove. The day was yet another cold and dreary one. The fog had abated, just a faint hint of it on the surrounding hills. No one spoke as they made their way. John had told Molly to take the front seat, he moving to the back. She was looking out the window, trying to focus her mind on the scenery and not on what they were moving towards.

"Far over the misty mountains cold …" She sang softly to herself. I don't think I have ever been more frightened in my entire life. Molly turned her focus away from the scenery and on to the fact that she had never seen Sherlock drive before. She hadn't even known that he could drive. It honestly didn't come as a shock to her though.

An hour later they arrived outside the building. Molly felt her heart rise to her throat. Stepping out of the car Sherlock walked around to her door and opened it. He took her hand.

"Ready?"

She nodded in reply.

The three of them walked towards the building. The area was quiet, desolate. There was no one else around. Sherlock opened the door and they stepped inside. Light filtered in through the broken windows. Pieces of machinery and glass littered the floor. Sherlock kept Molly close by his side.

A noise attracted their attention. Out of the shadows stepped Richard Brook, dressed in an impeccable suit. Clearly the brothers have a flair for a dramatic entrance.

"Aren't you the least bit pleased to see me?"