Chapter Nine

The Trails of the New Year

It had been a about a week since Christmas and was New Year's day. Sherlock had spent most of his time composing mournful music, not eating, just playing and composing. I hear the tune as I ascend the stairs to the the boys flat. When I get to the top of the stairs I am pulled into the flat by John and Ms Hudson, through the side door. John sighs as he looks between Ms Hudson and I.

"Has he ever had a relationship before Madison? A boyfriend, girlfriend, a relationship ever?"

Ms Hudson andI shrug.

"I don't know."

John sighs again.

"How can we not know?"

"He's Sherlock, how will we ever know what does on in the funny head of his."

"He's trying to work through something he hasn't had to before. While I did not like her, Adler was someone who could challenge Sherlock and an intellectual level, even more than I can."

John nods.

"See if you can help him figure out the password to that phone of Irene's."

I nod as John turns, heading out of the flat, leaving Mrs Hudson and I to listen to Sherlock playing his mournful tune. Shortly after John leaves Sherlock stops playing, looking out the window, no doubt seeing John. Soon after he goes back to his room, getting changed and heading out as well. I know it is best to give him his space right now and let him work through his emotions on his own.

Mrs Hudson goes back down stairs to clean up her flat and I begin to look over the music Sherlock has written, humming the melody I had heard earlier. The peace I had found this afternoon was broken when I hear Mrs Hudson let out a cry for help.

"Sherlock!"

I can hear the sounds of multiple sets of feet coming up the stairs, along with a struggle. I take the few seconds between hearing Mrs Hudson's cries for help and the time she and three men enter the main room of Sherlock and John's flat to hide. I am able to hide in the kitchen behind the door to the kitchen from the hall. I begin thinking of all the ways that I can get Mrs Hudson and myself out alive. As the different situations run through my head I can hear the men talking and to my surprised I recognizing their voices. The Americans.

"Check the flat, I'm sure that tasty little girlfriend of his is here somewhere."

I hear the men make their way through flat and wait until one stops in front of the door. Once he stops I jump out from behind the door, kicking him in the back and into the table in front of us. Before jumping on his back and slamming his head into the table, breaking his nose. Before I can do anything else I hear the leader of the group clear his throat.

"That's enough Ms. Love."

There isn't a doubt in my mind that he has a gun on me and I stand, turning to face him slowly. When I am turned around the man I had attacked knocks me onto the ground, before dragging me beside Mrs. Hudson, who has been hit on the right cheek, by the leader of the group. I glare up at him and notice that much like before they are only armed with the guns. Once I remember what they were after at Adler's flat I look around and see if I can find the phone, but it is nowhere in sight. I can only hope that Sherlock either took it or hide it.

"Now, we sit and wait for your clever boyfriend to get back and give us what we want."

"And what is that?"

"The photos of course."

I nod and glance around the room one more, looking for somewhere Sherlock could have hidden the phone. It doesn't take more than 30 minutes for Sherlock to get back to the flat and walk into the room, glancing around and working through what he needs to do in his head. I can see his eyes moving around the room rapidly, as the leader of the ground moves a gun to the back of Mrs Hudson's head and the man behind me does the same to me. Mrs Hudson begins to cry out of fear, calling to Sherlock softly as he walks in.

"Oh Sherlock… Sherlock."

"Don't snivel, Mrs Hudson. It will do nothing to impede the flight of a bullet. What a tender world that would be."

Sherlock glances over to me and then to the man behind me, whose nose is swollen from me breaking it. Sherlock smirks down at me for a moment before turning his attention back to the leader.

"I believe you have something we want, Mr Holmes."

"Then why don't you ask for it?"

Sherlock walks up to Mrs Hudson, who is still snivelling, looking her over and making sure she is not injured, before glaring back to the man.

"Oh, i've been asking there two, one doesn't seem to know anything and the other won't talk. But you know what I'm asking for, don't you, Mr Holmes?"

"I believe I do."

Sherlock stands and takes a few steps back.

"First get rid of your boys?"

"Why?"

"I dislike being outnumbered, it makes for too much stupid in the room."

I smirk and glance down, trying not to laugh.

"You two go to the car."

"No, they get into the car and drive away. Don't try to trick me, you know who I am, it doesn't work."

The two men walk out of the room, I look up to Sherlock for a cue of what to do, he shakes his head slightly, as if to say stay there.

"Next, you can stop pointing that gun at me."

"So you can point one at me, or so your little girlfriend can attack me?"

"I'm unarmed and she isn't going to do anything."

"Mind if I check that you're unarmed?"

"Oh, I insist."

The man steps toward Sherlock before looking at me.

"If you move, I will shot your beloved detective in the head and make you wish you were dead."

The man stops in front of Sherlock, looking in Sherlock's coat and walks behind him. Once the man is behind Sherlock, Sherlock pulls out a can of aerosol, spraying the man in the face, before head butting him, knocking him to the floor.

"Moron."

Once the man is on the floor, I stand and check Mrs. Hudson, as Sherlock processed to tie up and man and place him in the chair Mrs Hudson was in as I move her to the couch. Sherlock hands me the gun, before taking off his coat and scarf, before taking it back and pointing it at the man and sitting moving one of the kitchen chairs beside the couch as I sit beside Mrs Hudson looking her over. Sherlock quickly makes a phone call as John comes running in.

"What's going on? Jesus, What the hell is happening?"

"Mrs Hudson and Madison have been attacked by an American. I'm restoring balance to the universe."

John looks over to Mrs Hudson and myself on the couch. I am holding Mrs Hudson doing my best to comfort her, as John cross to us.

"Oh Mrs Hudson, Madison, my god, are you alright? Jesus, what have they done to you?"

Mrs Hudson shakes her head, covering her face with her hands.

"Oh, I'm just being so silly."

John and I shake our heads.

"No you're not."

"It's alright."

Sherlock stands and crosses to the middle of the room.

"Downstairs, take them downstairs and look after her."

The three of us stand and walk toward the door, as John takes Mrs Hudson under his arm.

"It's all right now. I'll have a look at that."

John steps toward Sherlock.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"I expect so, now go."

I exit the room with Mrs, Hudson, John following close behind us, but i can still hear Sherlock on the phone.

"Lestrade? We've had a break-in at Baker Street. Oh no no, we're all fine, it's the burglar. He's gotten himself rather badly injured. Oh a few broken ribs, fractured skull, suspected punctured lung. He fell out a window."

John, Mrs Hudson, and I make our way down to the kitchen in Mrs Hudson's flat. John begins to clean her up.

"Are you sure you're okay Madison."

I look up at him and nod.

"Of course."

John looks at me and points to my shoulder.

"You have blood on your blouse."

Mrs Hudson chuckles.

"Madison, attacked one of the men before they got to her."

John looks at me surprised before Mrs Hudson winces.

"Oh it stings."

At that moment hear something, very heavy, land on the bins outside the window. We all glance outside.

"Oh, that was right on my bins."

Shortly after Lestrade and the police are there, taking the man away in an ambulance and Sherlock enters through Mrs Hudson's side door, wiping his feet. John and Mrs Hudson are at the table and I'm leaning against the counter. Once Sherlock is in John glances up at him.

"They're be sleeping upstairs in our flat tonight, we need to look after them."

"No. They're fine"

Sherlock turns to the fridges and opens it, before he digs around for stuff.

"No, they're not fine, look at them. At least Mrs Hudson needs to take some time away from Baker Street. She can go and stay with her sister. Doctor's orders."

"Don't be absurd."

"They're both in shock and all over some bloody stupid camera-phone. Where is it, anyway?"

"Safest place I know."

Sherlock glances down to Mrs Hudson, who takes the phone out of her shirt.

"You left it in the pocket of your second-best dressing gown, you clot! I managed to sneak it out when they thought I was having a cry."

Sherlock slides the phone into his pocket.

"Thank you. Shame on you, John Watson."

"Shame on me?"

"Mrs Hudson leave Baker Street? England would fall."

Mrs Hudson and I chuckle softly.

"Besides Madison is not shaken up, she has a stronger nerve then I do."

"How do you figure?"

I chuckle softly.

"He would have killed the man he attack, I didn't."

Sherlock nods and smiles softly. Before long after making sure Mrs Hudson is really alright, John, Sherlock, and I head back up to their flat. While Mrs Hudson got to choose if she stayed in her flat, I did not. Sherlock, of all people, insisted that I stay with them that night. Sherlock takes off his coat and places it on the back of a chair at the desk, as John questions.

"Where is it now?"

"Where no one will look."

Sherlock picks up his violin and beings to look it over and tuning it.

"Whatever's on that phone is more than just pictures."

"Yes, it is."

"So, she's alive, then. How are we feeling about that?"

I look up at John surprised.

"I'm sorry who is what?"

"Irene Adler, is alive."

I nod and take a deep breath. I mean I am happy she is alive, but not happy she was moved her way back into Sherlock's life. As I exhale the clock tolls midnight. Sherlock takes a deep breath.

"Happy New Year, John, Madison."

"Do you think you'll be seeing her again?"

I look from John to Sherlock, waiting for his response.

"No, I don't think I will."

Sherlock picks up his bow and begins to play, as John and I sit in the chairs and listen to the lovely tune.