(A/N: The dragons ship it so hard.)

"Calm down, Irene," Sherlock sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "I promise you that I'm working on this investigation."

Irene took a breath. "I'm sorry, Sherlock. It's just…it's been a lot longer than normal with this case. I've got some of the other Riders breathing down my neck. As soon as these murders go public, we're going to have to make a statement, and-"

Sherlock shushed her. "Irene, this is what I called to talk to you about. I've narrowed it down."

"You have?" Sherlock could here Irene perk up over the line.

"Yes. I'm positive that our least favorite Faction is behind these killings. We're just going to have to proceed from there."

Irene sighed. "Send me your notes. Thank you for this, Sherlock. I really appreciate it. And thanks for getting John out of interrogation with the Corps. That wouldn't have ended well."

"Speaking of which, you can't allow John to continue with being indecisive."

"Indecisive? What do you mean?"

Sherlock hummed for a moment, thinking about his wording. "He's in the Resistance, he's a Rider for goodness sake, but he keeps his head down. He only acts for the cause when you give him direct orders. I don't think that he's entirely committed to it. You should suggest that he take a more active role."

Irene paused. "Make John a media Rider?"

"It's not illegal to be a member of the Resistance," Sherlock said. "And making him a public supporter of the cause will make people pay attention to him. They'll notice if he suddenly disappears. The Corps won't be able to get away with 'interrogations' like this again if they think John will start spilling all their secrets on BBC One."

Irene sighed. "I see your logic. I'll suggest it to John, but I honestly don't think that he's going to go for it. He's too protective of the people he cares about,"

"Public opinion is split. Pulling them out of the shadows will be the best way to keep them safe."

"You're oddly concerned about dearest Doc," Irene said, her voice laced with amusement. "Could it be that the great Sherlock Holmes has befriended something other than an ice breathing dragon?"

"Shut up," Sherlock said, hanging up out of spite.

"Mature," Vivaldi commented, watching from the sitting area as always.

"Shut up," Sherlock repeated, getting up and going to the wall on the far side of the room. He had begun to fill it up with pictures and newspaper clippings, keeping a close eye on the activities of the Faction.

In the center of it all was a picture of an inconspicuous man in a nice suit.

"Moriarty," Sherlock sighed, glaring at the man's image. "What are you up to now?"

A few years ago a small sect formed in the Resistance, led by Jim Moriarty. He insisted that they were being too subtle about their machinations, that they were being too gentle in their protest. They should be selling the top secret intel they had managed to gather, exploiting the weaknesses they had worked so hard to discover, and killing anyone who would get in their way.

At first they were only suggestions, nudges at Irene to give certain orders, to plan certain things. It took an embarrassingly long amount of time for anyone to realize that Moriarty had been planning something more sinister.

Bombings, terror, all ending with power in a certain psychopath's hands.

The Resistance denounced the actions of what they called the Faction.

And the two had been at odds ever since.

"Oh no, you're talking to a picture again," Vivaldi sighed. "I'm getting John. You need a distraction."

… …

"I bloody hate that Faction," John grumbled, examining Sherlock's case wall.

"You weren't even a part of the Resistance when it split," Sherlock pointed out.

"Doesn't mean that I haven't run into that twat Moriarty," John said, frowning at the picture of the man in question. "God, the bugger creeps me out."

"Well, he's a bit psychotic, so I don't blame you," Sherlock said, grinning slightly. "I've been investigating him for years now, before the Faction even split off. I'm fairly certain he's responsible for several murders and disappearances over the years. Never been able to pin him, though. He's smart."

"I'll say. I can't believe some of the stuff he's managed to pull off. Twisted, too. A man like him would be better employed in the Corps. Why is he even fighting for the Resistance?"

Sherlock shrugged. "Men like Moriarty need chaos, they need a challenge. Without it, they are incredibly bored. He doesn't care for dragon rights, he's simply siding with the rebellion. If we become the new order, he would stand for the new rebellion as well. He lives to oppose. A criminal in a world of law and a freedom fighter in a world of oppression."

"Hmph," John said, not liking the light note of admiration in Sherlock's voice. "So you're sure he's behind the murders, then?"

"Fairly," Sherlock said. "I don't think he carried them out personally, of course. No, standing in the shadows is much more Moriarty's style. I think he more likely manipulated someone else into acting. I would be surprised if he managed to keep a serial killer on his payroll."

John turned away, unable to look at the man's picture anymore. "What have you got on him, then?"

"The nature of the murders, mostly," Sherlock said, turning to his notes. "I've managed to build a profile of the killer based on the little bits of information from the crime scenes. I believe we are looking for two people: one of them is overseeing, and one of them is the muscle. The first murder spoke of familiarity, Brent let them in the flat, and he was forced down and shot before getting a chance to resist. So it's someone who has been in Brent's life enough that he didn't feel the need to be on his guard around her."

"Her?"

"Yes, John. A woman, it's obvious. A woman in leading these attacks, a man is helping her carry them out. I've already said this, please keep up."

"I'm not good at the deductive leaps, Sherlock. Just ask Teine, I need a little help in order to follow along."

Sherlock rolled his eyes but obliged. "So Brent likely knew this woman. My most plausible theory is that she marked him a few weeks in advanced. She probably seduced him in a pub, got him to take her on a couple of dates, introduced him to her male friend, possibly told Bren that he was a brother or something, and got him to invite them over for a meal, then betray him."

"Christ."

"Of course, it's also possible that they were strangers and they simply held the gun to him the entire time, never giving him the chance to kick up a big fuss. Sometimes things are really simpler than I like to pretend them to be."

John sighed. "Right."

"Although the clean state of the apartment and the contents of his fridge led me to believe that he was expecting someone that day. Since he was not discovered for a while later, that means that whoever he was expecting did not arrive or they happened to be the people who killed him."

"Sherlock, pick a theory."

"Can't toss them yet, John. Nothing is solid yet. And then there's Cortez."

"Never liked the guy, but sorry to see him go. What did you learn from him?"

"A good deal," Sherlock said, smiling slightly. "And it's nothing I will be able to explain to you."

"Sherlock!"

"I've been studying the patterns of the Faction since they formed, John," Sherlock reminded him. "I know every mistake they make and every method they use. This was one of their crimes. I can't even explain it at this point, I can only feel it."

John crossed his arms but nodded. "A gut feeling then, yeah? I can respect that."

Sherlock scowled. "I would never base an investigation on something so pedestrian as a 'gut feeling.' These are highly complex deductions, John!"

"I call bullshit," John said cheekily. "But I will leave you to it. I'm finally going to move my things over from my old flat. I'll be seeing you a little bit later."

Sherlock waved him off. "I'm busy anyway. Go away."

… …

"I'm just going to tell John that Sherlock's into him," Vivaldi decided. "Because I've thought about doing this with finesse, and it's just not going to work."

Teine rolled her eyes. "You called in John to talk to Sherlock when he was on a case. Did you really think that was going to work?"

Vivaldi did the dragon equivalent of a shrug. "Sherlock had just figured some things out. He wanted to show off and I was sort of hoping that John would be dazzled by the entire thing."

Teine scoffed. "John is not so easily 'dazzled.'"

"Sorry to break your bubble, love, but John's a bit like a child with something shiny," Vivaldi said apologetically. "He gets awestruck when he sees something as admittedly fantastic as Sherlock on a deductive streak and is verbally appreciative. Sherlock soaks up the praise like a really conceited sponge. I was hoping that some discussion on the Faction would, I don't know, break the ice."

"Idiot," Teine declared. "You need to set the mood. John is a romantic at heart. Sherlock should…I don't know, take him to an Italian restaurant with candle light or something."

"Sherlock would never in a million years do something like that."

"He would if he wanted John to like him."

"Well, he hasn't done that yet, so we have to think of something else."

"Quite right," Teine agreed. "Hopefully we won't need to arrange it so that one of them has to rescue the other from peril."

"Though if that doesn't work, I don't know what will."

"Too true," Teine agreed. "Too true."

… …

John finally finished moving in when the Woman called him.

He answered and listened, making a few noncommittal noises and she proposed her idea.

When it was over, he hung up and stared at the screen for a long time.

John put down his mobile, thinking over the conversation.

"Being a media Rider will keep you safe," she had said.

"Yes," he sighed. "And endanger everyone else that I know."

He rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose.

To become a media Rider? To stand before all the cameras and denounce the Aerial Corps for what it was? It wasn't as though he could be the inside man anymore. The Corps was suspicious of him. At best, they would call Teine back into action and the dragon would either have to go along with it or go AWOL.

And knowing Teine, she wouldn't hesitate to go AWOL.

"I think you should consider it," Teine said, when he told her. "I wouldn't mind it. I would be able to do more, certainly. Although I suppose that we can't get away with any of the more morally ambiguous missions anymore. Not if people are keeping an eye on us."

"And it would force Sherlock and Vivaldi into the spotlight as well," John continued. "We wouldn't want to push that on them. Especially since Vivaldi is an illegally owned dragon."

However, when John brought it up to Sherlock, the man lit up like a Christmas tree and clapped his hands. "I think that sounds like a fantastic idea, John!"

John frowned. "You are aware that this will affect you if I'm to continue to live here?"

Sherlock mirrored his frown. "Of course I realize that. Who do you think I am? I realize everything. And I don't particularly mind. The media attention might bring me some more interesting cases, unrelated to the Resistance. Not that I'm getting too bored with the Resistance, but it would be nice to shake it up now and again with solving kidnappings and bank heists and such."

John turned to Vivaldi for help, but received none.

"I don't necessarily think that it's a bad idea," the dragon said. "I think that you are in danger, playing on both sides as the moment, and since your cover has been compromised, this is the best way to ensure your safety and the safety of those around you."

"What about my contacts in the Corps?"

"Burn them," Vivaldi said with a shrug. "Not literally, of course. But give them fair warning, tell them to erase any signs that they had contacted you, and cut off further contact. Face it, John. The Corps already suspects that you're up to something, so they aren't safe anyway. And that will only get worse the more you utilize them as a resource."

John sighed but nodding, seeing the logic. "I'll think about it, but I'm not thrilled by the idea."

"Really? I couldn't tell," Sherlock said sarcastically. "It's not like you're trying to talk your way out of it in any way possible."

"Oy! I'm just trying to…tie up any loose ends if I do decide to do it."

"Mmhm."

"Shut up, Sherlock."

"I didn't say anything."

"Yes, you did."

"I hummed, that doesn't count."

"You hummed sarcastically."

"Still not words."

"…"

"…"

"Shut up, Sherlock."

… …

"Did you see the banter?" Teine asked Vivaldi the next time they met to conspire outside. "I saw the banter."

"I was in the room," Vivaldi assured her. "I saw the banter. It's driving me insane. We have to get them together soon or I'm going to freeze the entire city."

"I'm going to say something to John," Teine said decisively. "These idiots really do need our help."

"What are you going to say?"

"I don't know yet, I'll just start talking and hopefully I'll figure it out as I go along."

… …

Teine was slowly sauntering up to John. He frowned. This was never a good thing.

"What do you want?" he asked without preamble.

She looked affronted. "Why do you assume that I want something?" She gave him big amber eyes, the picture of innocence, but her wings twitched closer to her body, a little tick she had whenever she was lying.

"What do you want?" he repeated flatly.

"I was just thinking…" Teine said, trailing off and casually inspecting a talon. "Sherlock's a handsome man."

John froze, definitely not expecting this line of thinking. "What?"

"He's handsome, for a human," she continued. "I'm sure you've noticed."

John stayed silent, refusing to admit that he had noticed. Of course he had noticed? Who wouldn't have?

Teine seemed to be waiting for a response, so John sighed. "What are you talking about?"

"It's just that," she said, sounding far too innocent for John's liking, "I've been talking to him a lot recently, and I think that he might be interested."

Now John was confused. "Interested in what?"

Teine rolled her eyes and let out a little puff of smoke. "Interested in you, dummy! I'm trying to be subtle here, and you're just as clueless as ever."

"Sweetheart, you're as subtle as a gun," John reminded her. "And you're also vastly mistaken. What would a man like Sherlock want with a man like me?"

"Don't be so self-effacing!" Teine scolded. "You're attractive enough for a human. I think? I can't really tell, to be honest."

"Wow, I feel so complimented," John said drily. "If you're quite done, I have things to do."

John walked off and Teine cursed.

She went back into conference with Vivaldi.

"He didn't take the bait?" Vivaldi asked. "What did you say?"

"Just that Sherlock was handsome and interested in John," Teine said defensively. "It's not my fault that John has the self-confidence of a pre-teen human female."

"I'll try with Sherlock," Vivaldi promised, slithering away to do just that.

… …

"I think that John's attracted to you," Vivaldi said bluntly, knowing that it was better to approach Sherlock directly with such things.

"I've noticed," Sherlock said vaguely, peering through his microscope. "Pupil dilation, increased heart rate and respiration rate. I'm glad you've noticed the signs as well. Perhaps we'll make a proper dragon detective of you yet."

Vivaldi paused. "Wait, you've noticed?"

"Of course," Sherlock scoffed.

"Then why haven't you done anything about it?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous, Vivaldi. I'm married to my work. I don't have time for such trivial things as romance."

"I think he could make you happy."

"That I sincerely doubt," Sherlock said, an edge of sadness in his voice. "What John is experiencing is merely superficial attraction. He barely knows me. My…difficult personality has yet to make its full impact. Once it does, we'll be lucky if they continue to live here."

"I think John is better than that," Vivaldi argued.

Sherlock looked away from his microscope for the first time and gave Vivaldi one of the saddest smiles he had ever seen. "I've learned, at this point, that it is better not to hope for such things."

… …

"We're not doing very well," Teine complained.

"I know," Vivaldi commiserated. "We're just going to have to up our game."

"Right," Teine said briskly. "I'll work on boosting John's self-esteem, you work on repairing years of Sherlock's psychological damage."

"Hey! My job seems a lot harder."

Teine did the dragon's equivalent to a shrug. "He's your human."

Vivaldi conceded that was true and tried to figure out how he was going to make this work.