Disclaimer: I do not own the world of Sherlock Holmes or the BBC.

A/N: Happy Holidays, everybody! S/O to new readers: Sunshine4545, and loveisthewayforme. Thanks so much! Glad you are liking the story. This is the last canon chapter and I may do some one shots at the end :/ It's been really fun and I hope you all have enjoyed it just as much as I have! Thanks again for being a part of this with me. All credit for any part of the transcript goes to Ariane Devere from Live Journal.

The dial tone rang in her ear and Imogene smiled, falling back on her couch, kicking her legs over the arm. The phone clicked and her grin widened when his droll voice echoed over the phone. "Mycroft Holmes."

"Well hello darling!" Imogene enunciated. "How are you this fine day?"

There was a sigh on the other end and for a moment Imogene feared he might hang up. "Ms. Weaver. How did you get this number?"

"Oh now I can't give away all my secrets, can I?"

"What do you want?"

"See that's what I like about you, Mycroft, straight to the point." Imogene sat up. "I was hoping you could get me in to see that silly boyfriend of mine."

"I thought terms of endearment such as that were beneath the two of you," Mycroft responded, sounding aggravated.

"It's beneath him. I get a certain delight from the thought of him cringing every time I use that word and I haven't been able to do that since Christmas. So what do you say, Mr. Holmes? Can I see him?"

Mycroft sighed again. "Ms. Weaver you know as well as I do that that is impossible. He is a traitor of the state, never mind a murderer, under lock and key until he is exiled."

Oh she knew it well. When she and Mary had been rushed off to Mycroft's office of all places only to find John and no Sherlock, Imogene had known he had done just as she had asked him not to, something stupid. She had been devastated, only slightly comforted by the fact that he had done it to protect her, John and Mary and had demanded to see him so that she could slap him as well as probably snog the life out of him. Mycroft had turned her down with a bitter no and sent the lot of them on their way, warning them to not tell a soul about Magnussen, Appledore or anything else that happened that cold night and he especially did not want to hear about anyone else's involvement in the incident.

That had been months ago. Somehow, Mycroft had been able to sentence Sherlock to exile with strict orders that he would be serving his country from outside of it. They would be sending him away in three day's time and Imogene couldn't bear the thought of seeing him getting on a plane and that being their last time with each other, with so much left unsaid after Christmas.

"All the better reason for me to see him now. . . ." There was silence on the other end of the line. Imogene's heart pounded in her chest. She had known this was a long shot but still…. "Mycroft . . . please. I would really hate to have to beg."

"Imogene," Mycroft started and it was a testament of his tolerance of her that he had even used her first name and hadn't hung up on her. Maybe Mrs. Holmes was right. Maybe he really did like her. "I really wish I could but there is nothing I can do. My hands are tied."

Imogene chewed on her lip. The only way she could see her high-functioning sociopath then was one she knew he'd want her to avoid, one he'd never want her to resort to. Sherlock was going to be furious. "What if I untied your hands?"

Mycroft was silent again and Imogene knew he had figured it out, the clever man. But still, he took a breath and said, "Imogene I would be careful with my next statement if I were you."

"Since when have I ever been careful? I've been a professional Hacker since secondary school. . . . How else did you think Sherlock got the password to state secrets?"

It was what felt like days later, though it had only really been hours (time had crept by incredibly too slow for Imogene) when Imogene found herself standing outside of Mycroft's locked office in an unmarked building. They had come for her quite quickly, the police armed and ready. When she heard them coming, she had sunk to her knees, arms behind her head. Her things were all packed, she had put her shop up for sale on the internet. Mycroft had appeared before her, looking really disappointed. As they rode in a van together away from her home, he had shaken his head. "I don't suppose I'll ever understand people like you, so ruled by emotion."

Imogene had smiled. Maybe she was crazy, doing this all for a man but part of her felt, well relieved. She had been running, hiding really for years, getting by only with her skill. It felt nice to come clean and if getting to finally see Sherlock would come out of this, she could be happy. "I don't think I'll ever understand it myself, Mycroft. Maybe we aren't supposed to. Maybe that's the point."

Mycroft glanced at her as he leveled the key to the keyhole. "He won't be pleased."

"No, I daresay he will be," Imogene replied, smiling softly. She took a deep breath. "I'm ready."

Mycroft unlocked the door, pushing it open and escorting her inside. Sherlock sat in an arm chair facing away from them, his head leaned back and his eyes closed. "Mycroft, your sense of dramatics can be dreadfully overwhelming. Dragged here against my will, locked in. If you wanted to see me I'm sure you could have done it much more tactfully."

Mycroft's lip practically curled. "Yes well, it wasn't I who wanted to see you."

Sherlock let his head fall backwards further before opening his eyes. Imogene tilted her head, smiling at the shock on his face. It was always pleasant to be able to surprise Sherlock Holmes. He stood up. "Imogene."

"Hello Sherlock," she responded.

He walked towards her, reaching for her hand. Mycroft cleared his throat, none too delicately. Sherlock frowned, looking at his brother as he folded his hands behind his back. "Would you mind allowing us a moment, Mycroft?"

Mycroft looked to Imogene. "I am afraid I cannot allow that Sherlock."

Sherlock glared at Mycroft. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"I'm sure my colleagues wouldn't think it . . . prudent of me to leave a traitor of the state alone with his accomplice."

"Accomplice?" Sherlock looked from his brother to Imogene and she could practically see the wheels turning in his head. He took a step back, his jaw tight with anger.

Imogene turned to Mycroft. "Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to allow us that moment, Mycroft."

"I can't just –"

"Please. Just fifteen minutes at best."

Mycroft sighed again before he walked out the door, locking it behind him. Imogene walked past Sherlock, setting her purse down on his vacated chair before propping herself on the edge of Mycroft's desk. Kicking her legs, she looked over to the handsome man still glaring at her over by the door. She cleared her throat. "You look well."

"My accomplice?" he muttered, the words coming out clipped.

"I kind of like the sound of it," Imogene told him, winking. "Kind of makes it sound like we're doing something naughty."

"How could you do something so absolutely stupid?" Sherlock yelled, walking towards her. "You told Mycroft you helped me? He would have never needed to know! You aren't supposed to be here! You aren't supposed to get caught!"

"Yes well now he knows and –"

"You promised me! You said you'd stay safe!"

"I did! I'm still safe!"

"You've been named a traitor! You're probably facing jail, if not exile. Why would you do something like this?"

"Because I love you, you great, stupid man!" Imogene glared back at him as his mouth snapped shut and he folded his arms across his chest defiantly. She did the same, holding her chin high. "Are you quite through yelling at me?"

Sherlock continued to glare at her for a moment and she continued to meet his gaze, refusing to back down. Finally the consulting detective sighed, running his hands over his face before he moved to lean against the desk next to her. Imogene unfolded her arms, placing her hands on the desk. Sherlock looked at the wall, his arms still crossed. "What about your shop?"

"The shop?" Imogene scoffed. "I probably make more money selling it than I ever did running it."

Out of the corner of her eye she could see the tension leaving his shoulders. "What about John? And Mary?"

Imogene shrugged, smiling slightly. Of course she'd miss them terribly, everyday . . . but she couldn't imagine her life without Sherlock, not now, not after everything. "John has Mary. . . . Mary has John. I've only got one high functioning sociopath. Besides," Imogene added, nudging his shoulder with her own, "you've already gotten a holiday and I'll be damned if you get another to yourself."

Surprisingly he chuckled and his arms finally completely dropped. Imogene looked down when she felt his fingers on top of hers. It wasn't quite holding hands but somehow it felt much more intimate. She kept her gaze on their hands as she spoke, "I know this is admittedly the stupidest thing I've ever done and I've risked expulsion changing my grades, twice. You may not truly understand why I did it, I know Mycroft doesn't and I sort of don't either, but sometimes that's okay, to not completely understand something. Sometimes it's okay to do crazy things, wouldn't you agree?"

She knew he couldn't possibly say no, not after everything he's done that was borderline psychotic.

"You never cease to amaze me, Ms. Weaver," Sherlock muttered.

"Yes well I suppose that that's a good thing, Mr. Holmes," she replied. "I would hate for you to get bored of me."

"I don't think that's quite possible. Besides, I suppose if anything we sociopaths have to stick close." Imogene looked up at Sherlock, eyebrows raised. He shrugged. "You are a sociopath, you realize that. A psychopathic personality, often criminal behavior with a lack of moral responsibility though I don't suppose you lack social conscious."

"Well we'll be able to fit in where ever we're going." Imogene grinned as Sherlock looked down at their hands, frowning slightly. "Hmm."

"What is it?" She asked.

Sherlock shook his head, a slight lift to the corner of his mouth. "Human error."

Imogene stared at him for a moment, trying to understand what he was trying to say. A large smile slowly spread across her face. "Is that you're way of saying you love me too?"

"Would you expect me to say it any another way?"

"No," she admitted. Reaching up with her free hand, she curled her fingers around his collar, pulling him towards her. "But we'll work on it."

Imogene hung on tight to Mary, who hung on just as tightly. "You'll write, yes?"

"'Course I will," Imogene responded. "Everyday if I can, I promise."

Mary leaned back, placing her hands on the Hacker's shoulders. "Who on earth will I complain too when John leaves the toilet seat up?"

Imogene laughed, shaking her head. "I guess you'll just have to imagine what I say."

"I'm going to miss you getting to her," Mary said, placing her hand over her stomach.

"I'm going to miss that too." Imogene swallowed back tears, hugging her friend again. "Take care alright."

"You too."

The two women let go of each other. Imogene looked up as Sherlock and John shook hands, the Consulting Detective turning and walking to the plane. Imogene walked over to John, wrapping him in a tight hug. The man held here there a moment. "You two watch out for each other."

"We will," Imogene replied nodding against his shoulder. "I guess you might consider this a blessing of sorts, the two of us getting sent off together. I'll have to owe Mycroft for the rest of my life."

"He won't let you forget it either," John said with a slight chuckle. "I'll miss you Gene."

"I'll miss you more John." She let go of her old friend, walking backwards as she clutched the shoulder strap of her purse. She gave both of them a watery smile. "Until the next time then."

John and Mary smiled back, John wrapping his arm around his wife's waist. Nodding, Imogene turned and walked onto the plan. Sherlock was already settled in, staring off out the opposite window his chin on his fist, looking out the opposite window his other hand resting on his knee. She dropped her purse on the ground and sat down next to him, buckling her seat belt.

Imogene looked out the window to the runway as the plane started. John and Mary still stood there, holding hands, watching the plane. She looked back to Sherlock and reached over, as if to take his hand and then stopped, putting her hand back in her lap. She went to reach down to get her purse to retrieve a book when Sherlock's fingers intertwined with hers. "You're shaking," he muttered but he didn't let go.

She sat back up, smiling. "I'm nervous is all. First time on a plane and I've never been out of England before. It's exciting, a new adventure."

The plane lifted off the ground and Imogene leaned across Sherlock to watch, even though he protested. She watched as things became smaller, the ground farther away. She sat back, looking over at Sherlock. Imogene grinned at him slyly. "Well . . . I know the first thing we could do on our holiday."

Sherlock looked over at her, studying her expression. "Ms. Weaver, are you propositioning me?"

"And if I am Mr. Holmes?"

It was truly a joy to see the brilliant man so flustered. The detective looked at loss for what to say and he was saved from having to answer by a man appearing next to them, holding out a phone. "It's your brother."

Sherlock took the phone, exchanging a glance with Imogene before he put the phone on speaker. "Mycroft?"

"Hello, little brother. How is the exile going? Are you and Ms. Weaver enjoying yourselves?"

"We've only been gone four minutes."

"Well I certainly hope you've learned your lesson. I suppose Ms. Weaver will have to return as well; there would be no getting you back here without her. As it turns out, you're needed."

"Oh for God's Sake. Make up your mind. Who needs me this time?"

Mycroft hesitated, sighing exasperatedly. "England."

The phone clicked and Sherlock put it down in his lap. "Well . . . it looks like we'll have to put our holiday on hold for a while."

"Pity," Imogene answered with a grin.

The plane shifted, heading back towards the runway.

Heading home.

A/N: That's it! I'm definitely going to do some one-shots but that is it, folks! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks everyone!