Amelia sang her way through a very delightful shower. With the final words to "Double Heart," she swaggered out and wrapped a towel around herself. Using a second towel, she scrunched her hair carefully in order to maintain her usual curls without having to deal with frizz. As she was bent over, the door to the bathroom opened. Amelia could see John's feet in the doorway. "Need something?" she yelled.

"Um, no, I'm ok, sorry!"

Amelia flipped back up. "It's alright. I'm almost done here anyway." What is he so nervous about? Flushed face and… John turned away from Amelia before she could finish deducing him.

Shrugging, she grabbed her hair cream and walked out of the bathroom and into the main room. Amelia dressed quickly into a pair of dark grey trousers and a light pink tank, throwing an oatmeal colored long cardigan over it. As she was finishing styling her hair, John emerged from the bathroom, also wearing an oatmeal colored jumper. Amelia instantly pointed at his suitcase, "Get a new one out. We will not be the couple that matches."

John stopped and stared at Amelia. "A couple?"

"Our cover, remember?"

"Right."

Amelia looked at John. "This isn't going to be awkward, is it? Because if you think it is strange being in a pretend relationship with me, an actual one would be worse."

"This isn't awkward, Amelia. I am just worried about what we're going to face when we meet Tate. Just because he left before getting involved with the attack yesterday does not mean he is someone to be trifled with."

While Amelia tried not to squirm with embarrassment, John captured her chin with his hand and grazed her lips with his. "Stop doubting this. Please."

He then stepped away and grabbed a dark blue button down shirt. To keep herself from staring, Amelia looked up sights to visit. She jumped mildly when John placed a hand on her lower back. "Where to first?" he asked.

They returned to the hotel at 5pm to change. Amelia refreshed her makeup and put on her dress, pairing it with black knee high boots. She was grateful that the boots did not have a heel. Nothing was more troublesome than trying to escape danger in unfamiliar territory wearing stilettos. Draping a silver chain around her neck, Amelia steeled herself, a practice that she did often when about to confront a potential enemy. John knocked at the door. "We have to go if we want to be on time."

So much for being fashionably late.

Standing outside of Nodaiwa, Amelia easily spotted William Tate at the bar. Not only was his towering height noticeable, so was his behavior. Amelia and John watched as Tate took shots of sake one after another and leered at the servers. Fighting the urge to walk in and slap the man, Amelia waited until his face was flushed and his gait was unsteady as he walked to his table. She looked at John. "Wait in the back. I think it would be easier to get information out of him if I were alone."

John nervously shifted his weight and licked his lips. "I don't like this plan, how am I supposed to know if you are safe?"

"I'll be in the middle of a busy restaurant. He won't try anything there. Besides, homeboy is lonely and I estimate he will only need another three shots before he is telling me everything while staring at my chest." Amelia kissed John on the cheek. "If anything starts to go down, I'm sure the staff will be gossiping about it. You'll be able to hear about it from the kitchen door, which incidentally, would be the door he will try to run out of if he is attempting an escape."

Looking slightly more sure, John ran his hand through Amelia's hair. "Be careful. Your brothers will kill me if I let anything happen to you. And we won't even mention what I would do to myself."

Shooting John a confident grin, Amelia started to walk backwards to the door. "Calm down, I got this."

"You know, I don't think I'll ever get used to you using American slang when you sound like a Brit." John made his way towards the alley, where the kitchen door was located, and pulled out his gun while keeping it out of sight.

Amelia walked through the front door. She bypassed the host by waving and with an American accent saying "There's someone waiting for me, thanks."

She made her way to Tate's table. Sure enough, as soon as Amelia was in eyesight, Tate's expression changed from bored and drunk to hopeful. Stopping in front of him, she smiled. "This probably will sound ridiculous, but my date stood me up and I am too embarrassed to walk out of here just yet. Do you mind if I sit here?"

Tate made a show of getting up to pull out her chair. Amelia adjusted her neckline so that when she moved to sit, Tate got a deep glimpse of her cleavage. Sure enough, he took the bait and almost planted his face against her breasts. Don't punch him until AFTER you get the information! Amelia shyly smiled and watched Tate sit down through her eyelashes. In her most innocent voice, she stammered "Unless you have someone meeting you. I should have asked if you were expecting your wife, I'm so sorry."

Tate took a large drink of his wine. Switching alcohol? Why Mr. Tate, you should know what that does to a person's mental state. He leaned forward, almost as if he was confessing a secret. "No need to apologize, there's no wife meeting me. I am actually here alone. But then again, there's always room for another on my trip."

He talks with a British accent, but it's a fake. He is originally from Scotland. The only reason why he is being so accommodating is because he knows that if he picks up an extra, it won't look as suspicious. Playing incognito? Makes sense, he's on the run. Drinking heavily as though he is feeling guilty. Guilty about leaving? No. This is a long-term guilt. Tate is, deep down, a good man who was put in a bad situation. I can work with that.

"That must be nice, being on vacation. I'm a student at the University here, so I'm afraid that as soon as I leave, it is land of textbooks and lectures." Amelia shrugged. "But then again, it is Friday night. Who's to judge if I let my hair down for once?"

Tate cackled. "Ain't going to be me, that's for damn sure!"

He finished his wine and immediately ordered two more. For such a busy place, the service was impeccable, as two fresh glasses of wine were placed in front of them within a minute. Amelia took a sip of her wine and pretended to scan the menu that Tate handed her. "It's on me, sweetheart!"

Amelia looked at him again. Under the intoxication, interest, and guilt, there was a thread of loneliness in Tate's eyes. Groaning internally, Amelia changed tactics. "Actually, I should tell you the truth."

Tate looked up; a shred of fear was evident for a moment before he hid his expression under a veil of amused confusion. "And what's that? Are you actually a prostitute? I can pay well."

"Perhaps I should introduce myself, as I never told you my name, I am Amelia Holmes and you were hired to abduct my brother and leave me in an alley. You should really slow down on the drinking."

"Oh shit, oh fuck. How did you find me?" Tate groaned.

He tried to distract Amelia by dropping his head in his right hand, his left arm reaching for a gun.

Amelia was quicker. She tapped his inner thigh with her blade. "Not so fast. I know that you weren't actually there so I am not here to kill you. I just have questions and if you give me the truth, I'll let you walk away without any injuries."

Tate glared at Amelia. "Just leave it alone. You have no idea what you are up against." He stood and threw some money on the table. "I hope they didn't beat your brother too badly, give him my regards."

"They still have him."

That threw Tate, either that or the fact that Amelia balanced the knife with her feet and began to pull out her own gun. He immediately sat down. Amelia smiled again. "Good boy. You clearly know what I am facing and you now know if you try to leave, I will kill you without a single thought. So how about we level the playing field?"

Tate grabbed his cloth napkin and waved it. "Alright, I'll give. It's not like my own people aren't hunting me down as we speak. What do you know already?"

"Just that I had to kill five men, all of whom were involved in slave trading in one way or another. Someone threatened Mycroft into lying to me so I would perform such an act. While Mycroft was explaining, his driver pulled into an alley and we were ambushed. They knocked me out and pushed me to the ground, but there is no evidence that Mycroft left the car."

Tate stared at Amelia for so long, she began to worry that he was waiting for backup to arrive. Finally, he spoke. "You know more than what I expected, smart girl. The men were not just random slave traders, they each had their own specialty within their countries. Except for the man in Taiwan, he had two, sex and manufacturing. Apparently, it is easier to catch and prosecute sex slave traders than labor ones."

"Why is that?"

"Because most of the people who deal in labor slaves are quite powerful and influential. If anyone suspected them of owning or employing slaves, they just pushed a heavy pile of money over and the investigation stopped. And if it wasn't money, it was political favors."

"Makes sense. Go on."

"Recently, there has been a change in the trading industry. Someone emerged, picked out slave traders from each specialization, and is merging them together. No one has seen his face, save the five you just killed off, and they don't know his real name either. Rumors are spreading that he is quite the important figure."

"So someone is creating a monopoly of slave traders. He leads them all, makes them do all the dirty work, and takes a cut for himself. I assume that the five men that I was told to assassinate were the regional leaders. They saw the main guy as they were getting things started and now that their jobs are done, I killed them off so his identity will remain a secret." Amelia felt a cold knot form in her stomach.

Tate looked impressed. "You really are smarter than what you lead on. The boss just thought you were a pair of boobs with a gun. Good thing, otherwise, you would be dead as soon as you killed the last one."

"You know him?"

"No. I was just contracted, in a matter of speaking. We were hired to keep an eye on you and Mycroft. I was watching your brother, which is why I didn't recognize you."

"Then why did you leave? Your job was almost over."

"I just couldn't do it anymore. You should know how it feels; the rush of a new job, the satisfaction when you succeed, and then the rut that you fall into between jobs. It doesn't get better or easier. You want a real life, one that includes a family? Good fucking luck." Tate sat back. "That's all I know. Now if you don't mind…"

William Tate never got to finish his statement. As he was trying to stand, a gunshot rang out and Tate fell back, clutching his chest. Amelia did not stop to think. Using the chaos that erupted, Amelia dodged through the crowd and into the kitchen. She did not slow down as she plowed to the backdoor. Flying out of the restaurant, Amelia saw John immediately and grabbed his arm. "We're made. Let's get the hell out of here."

John did not need to be told twice. He pulled Amelia out of the alley. They initially tried to take a direct route to the hotel, but stopped short as the gunshots rang out again, not three feet from them. John spun Amelia around. "I know a different route, come on!"

Both of them took out their guns as they ran. They made a couple of hard rights, trying to double back on their assailants, but they could not see anything out of the ordinary. "Where the fuck are they?" whispered Amelia.

"I don't know, but we just need to leave. No sense in trying to be a hero if you can't even see your enemy."

"Works well for me, Tate already told me everything."

They continued to run, guns out, and eyes open. John glanced at Amelia, looking for any wounds.

"And you believed him?"

"Who?"

"Tate"

"A guilty conscience does not lie during confession."

"How do you know he felt guilty?"

"The man was Catholic, they are known for feeling guilty over an extra stick of gum. It was an easy deduction."

John pulled Amelia into another dark alley. "I think we've lost them."

Amelia listened for any footsteps coming down the alley, not a soul. She walked towards the street again and only saw citizens milling about, some looking strangely at the woman who was peering out of an alley with wild hair and a hand behind her back. "We're ok."

John breathed a sigh of relief and wrapped his arms around Amelia's waist. "That actually went better than I thought."

"Indeed. Now, I think we need a change of scenery, to be honest."

"Why's that?"

Amelia smirked. She tilted her head back and whispered into John's ear. To the innocent onlooker, it appeared that a married couple was having a quiet moment in the alley. In reality, Amelia's words were almost causing John to have a coronary. He leaned back. "You want to do what? Here?"

Rolling her eyes, Amelia pulled John back to the sidewalk. "If you are that eager, I can accommodate. However, we have a perfectly good hotel room. Perhaps we should start there."

"Start?"

"Start."

"I don't know how you can go from running for your life to suggesting what you just did, but I am not going to argue." John was amazed he could still talk after all the blood in his body rushed to a particular area.

Amelia turned and bit John's lower lip. "Blame it on the adrenaline."

"Bloody adrenaline."