Hello! Thank you very much to those of you who took the time to review.

So, we finally reach the point where this story is heading and are nearing the end of act two.

Enjoy!

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Slowly time passed, minutes melted into hours and hours melted into days.

Irene and Nero had been in London for four days now, and John had to admit that he really enjoyed the atmosphere in 221B. Like the last time Irene had been with them, Sherlock grew slightly gentler and was more considerate of those around him, something John definitely couldn't complain about.

However, before, when John had been in Sherlock's and Irene's presence, the two of them had either been flirting (though Irene had been doing the most of that, Sherlock had simply rolled his eyes and occasionally dropped a saucy comment) or had been trying to best each other.

Either they would play games like chess and the respective loser (generally Sherlock) would sulk, or they would have a war of wits which generally ended in an argument. Not the bad kind, obviously, but the tension between those two had been so high that John had always felt the urgent need to get out of the flat, not only to make sure that other people were still living ordinary lives and that some sense of normality existed in the world, but also because he felt almost terrified when he was caught between one of their arguments.

Of course, Irene and Sherlock also had the talent to promptly alienate every other person in the room, and John had always felt very much like the third wheel.

That feeling hadn't gone away completely, of course, and it definitely never would, but it had eased. Because of Nero, Sherlock and Irene seemed to have lost the ever urgent need to always win and completely outwit each other, and instead seemed more focused on working as a team.

And they made a brilliant team. While people with the same personality traits often got into a fight, Irene understood emotions better than Sherlock did, and so provided the missing part to their relationship. When Irene wasn't around, John could act as Sherlock's moral compass, but Irene was capable of that too.

Of course, John was still different from Irene in that certain respect though, because Irene's mind functioned similarly to Sherlock's in most ways, while John completely differently. Irene and Sherlock were exotic and strange creatures, with their icy blue eyes, dark hair, high cheekbones and massive intellect. Both of them could still be amoral at times, and manipulative, and haughty; in short, all the things John was not.

But Irene and Sherlock completed each other. They could communicate simply with stares and with simplest signs, and once they realised that they were both evenly matched, they worked remarkably well together.

Parenting was hard, John knew, and he couldn't really believe that these were the same people they had been two years ago, possibly even one year ago. It was so amazing, how much they had changed, but only in certain respects. Sherlock seemed to still struggle occasionally between the professional part of his work and the sentimental factor of his life, while Irene had less problems. She was still fiercely independent, but devoted to Sherlock, and not because she was forced, but by her own choosing.

John had to admit that Irene really had taken to motherhood brilliantly, and he marvelled at how she was completely different and yet her essential characteristic traits were still the same. Sherlock too, was a lot more affectionate with Irene and Nero around, and yet he still didn't get overly sappy but managed to act detached.

The ex-army doctor really hoped that Irene and Nero would stay for at least another week, if not longer.

If he had known what was to come, he would have sent them back to New Zealand that very second.

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Distracted by Irene's and Nero's arrival, Sherlock stayed with them in the flat for a few days. He didn't go and bug Lestrade for cases at Scotland Yard, nor did he show up at Bart's to conduct endless experiments and take home severed body parts.

He would never call his current behaviour lazy, because he certainly had enough to do. Nero had grown, and was a little quieter when it came to tantrums, but he was starting to be able to make sounds. Sherlock, who had been quite silent as a baby, worrying both his parents and his nannies, clearly saw that the talkative side came from Irene. Nero seemed to delight in his ability to make sounds and attempted to identify everything he saw.

Irene was thrilled of course, because he was starting to show progress generally made by a six month old, rather than a five month old. Sherlock smirked smugly at this development, though there were times that part of him wished that Nero would have inherited his personality more, at least in this situation.

However, since Sherlock generally just stayed at the flat all day, he avoided most kinds of communication. His phone was somewhere on the cluttered desk, and the battery was probably already dead, since he hadn't bothered to charge it.

That day, Mrs Hudson (who adored both Nero and Irene to bits) had taken the little boy out for a walk in the park, sternly telling Sherlock that infants shouldn't be kept in confined spaces all the time and that he needed fresh air. Apparently, simply opening the window wasn't enough.

Nero had reacted well to Mrs Hudson to, and was never shy or reserved around her. He was also very much at ease with Sherlock and had a strong bond with him, which rather surprised the detective, seeing he hadn't been around that much. Irene had just smiled happily at seeing Nero and Sherlock interaction. Seeing him try to keep Nero amused by explaining the system of crime and deduction to him with his toy puppets had been particularly funny, and Irene was fairly sure that John had filmed the occasion, and was going to use it to blackmail his flatmate sometime in the future.

Nero would quieten almost immediately when he was in Sherlock's arms, and could even fall asleep when Sherlock carried him around. Irene was thrilled but as surprised with this development as Sherlock was; she had expected Nero to be much more reserved. But apparently the father/son bond between them was extremely strong, and Irene was sure that Sherlock really was secretly pleased with this.

It was only on the day that Mrs Hudson finally took Nero outside for a bit when Sherlock decided he should check if anyone had tried to contact him. As his laptop was easier to find than his phone, he checked his website first, but found nothing new (and for the first time, this did not bother him one bit). Then he started the search for his phone, simply pushing things off the desk and creating a huge mess, until he found the small device. He plugged it in to charge and turned it on.

His eyebrows rose when he noted the 10 new messages, and wondered from who they could be from. Had there been any missed calls he would have assumed it was Mycroft. He supposed that Molly might have been worried about his sudden absence from the morgue.

He opened the first one and froze.

Desperately, he opened all the others and simply stared for a second, immobile, before, for one tiny second, panic kicked in.

He managed to regain control of himself fairly quickly, but the heavy and sinking feeling in his stomach would not go away. Quickly, he clicked on the first few messages again, trying to find any clues.

I'm bored. Come and play.

Jim xxx

Really, Sherlock, since when have you started ignoring me?

Jim xx

COME ON, Sherlock, it's my birthday today! No birthday treats for me?

Jim x

Clearly, the kisses seem to repel you…

Jim

Looks like I'm going to have start our final game anyways then. It's going to come soon Sherlock.

Jim :)

That message had been sent yesterday, another few had been sent today. Moriarty was growing impatient.

Sherlock cursed. This was why he hadn't wanted Irene to come here; this was the precise thing he had warned her about. And stupidly, he had let her come anyway.

And now, just as he had feared, both she and Nero were in huge danger.

He thought of his son suddenly, panic once again coursing through him, and he picked up his phone to call Mrs Hudson, not caring that he had suddenly turned into the overprotective parent.

"Mrs Hudson?" he said, as soon as she picked up her phone, and she heard the fear in his voice.

"Are you and Nero alright?" he asked, biting his lip. She sounded alright, but he had to be absolutely sure.

"We're fine, dear." She replied, sounding slightly confused. "We've just stopped off for lunch."

"You need to get back to Baker Street as soon as possible" Sherlock told her grimly, and then snapped the phone shut. He knew that it would probably take them at least twenty minutes to get back to the flat, if not longer, since they had taken the bus to the park.

But for now they were safe.

That only left one other person.

"Irene".

Like Mrs Hudson, she also heard the concealed fear in his voice. She walked over quickly, and stopped when she saw Sherlock's expression. He didn't look scared, but angry and tense, but there fear and panic in his eyes. He didn't say anything, just showed her the phone.

Her eyes widened as she read the texts and the same panic appeared in her eyes. For one second she stopped thinking, and simply stared, before she looked up and her gaze met Sherlock's. There was no accusation in his eyes, but she knew that he was angry with himself, and probably with her as well, for coming here. He had attempted to convince her that it was too dangerous to come here, and Irene realised she should have thought of the risk more.

Suddenly another thought made her panic intensify. "Nero?" she asked Sherlock in an unsteady voice and to her relief he nodded.

"I told Mrs Hudson to come back to Baker Street as soon as possible."

Irene breathed a sigh of relief. "He's safe" she whispered to herself, relaxing slightly.

"But you need to go now". Sherlock told her. "Without Nero".

Irene stared at him, almost uncomprehendingly. Was he suggesting that she should just leave her son here, with Sherlock, in London, where Moriarty was?

"John will take him away from here today evening or tomorrow, but you're in much more danger." Sherlock told her, and his voice was suddenly cold. Irene said nothing.

Neither of them heard the stairs creak slightly, as an unwanted visitor came up the stairs.

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Thanks for reading!

I have to admit that I was slightly disappointed with the reviews the last chapter got. I decided to be nice though, and not "blackmail" you into reviewing, so instead I'm just going to beg and grovel on my knees :)

I would love to hear from you!

Laura x