So sorry, I promised one or two of ya i'd update sooner than this... unfortunately I was whisked away to make costumes and bake... but here you go, a new chapter. sorry its so short eheh. Also, who would like lestrade? please tell me in a review, and be sure to include your thoughts on this story!

~asher

Mycroft Holmes was pissed. Not just at john, but at his government. They'd done nothing as the doctors car sped away, standing there too shocked to move. It was just disgraceful. Mycroft was already planning the boot to some lower than him, and complaints to higher. His mission was to get his baby brother home safe, and John had probably just ruined it, with his stubborn mind. Now that this was going to take longer, he might as well start now.

Mycroft ordered some men to go after John, and abandoned the search for the monitoring device which was surely there. The brilliant mind shared by the Holmes brothers began to work new possibilities.

The other brain wasn't making much process though. Sherlock couldn't think, because oh god it hurt so much and he was too tired why he couldn't just sleep now he did not know…

Something was keeping the detective awake. It was as if he couldn't concentrate on one thing now, as he had been doing his whole life. He hated the feeling of fear, but there it was nagging at the corners of his tattered mind. What if Moriarty started to hurt his landlady? He couldn't prevent it, and he knew he could not stand that. Hell, he threw a man out the window for scratching her. And whilst that had felt deliciously good, he knew he couldn't let something get in the way of him finding an escape route. Being blinded by fury is not a Holmes trait, it suits one ill even if they are not a genius.

Sherlock began to think. Just think, as a teenage Mycroft had taught him one summer afternoon when the young Sherlock had come into his brother's room, crying that there was too much, too much in his little head, so much buzzing. Mycroft knew his brother would come to this eventually, and painstakingly helped him build a palace in his mind.

Sherlock thought. He thought about him and john, john and him, jumping fences, and always defying the odds of survival. He began to gain confidence, if two could beat the odds, two could do it again. It was just a matter of how…

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH SHSHSHSHSH

John was also pissed. he knew he'd done the wrong thing, but he felt, given the circumstances, that it was partially right, after all, you can't wait forever to rescue someone, the search always happens sooner rather than later. But there it was, an edgy little doubt sneaking into his mind, what if, what if. Sherlock could be moved already, he could be dead now, Mrs Hudson too, my god what have I done was already on the tip of his tongue.

Just as he was about to say said sentence, the rented car broke through the brush and weed of the dirt road, and onto a real one, with real cars. John gasped as he swerved to miss a bus, and then fell silent, a smile creeping onto his face. One step closer to Sherlock. He sped on, joining the busy street. John knew he was close, too close. He needed some help, from a more trusted service…

JWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJW JWJW

Moriarty was not pissed. Oh no. The mastermind was very pleased. He had another little birdy, flying right into his trap. Yes, yes the poor doctor, soon to be a traumatised blubbing machine. His two favourite people, and one addition, all favourites of each other, all wrapped up in his web, all watching. Moriarty felt rather proud of himself, in fact a little too proud. Sherlock could tell, as the madman marched up to his cage

"Well, well! Guess who's joining our little party?"

Sherlock remained silent, he knew who it had to be.

"Ding ding! That's right, it's Johnny boy! Isn't this just going to be a blast!?"

Sherlock decided to fuel the pride that Moriarty felt, after all, pride is almost always ones downfall. Playing weak ought to do it…

"How… How did John…?"

"Ohhh you don't think I'd leave your trail unseen? I want more, and your pet needs to be put down. Non-humanly I'd say, he's rather vicious! I knew that hardhead would get past your brother, it was inevitable. For a Holmes boy, he's pretty dumb."

Sherlock wanted to shout and laugh and growl all at the same time. He compensated with a cough.

"D'awwwww getting weak there Sherlie boy?"

Moriarty snickered and sauntered away, feeling all the wonderful about himself, and completely unaware that Sherlock Holmes had a plan.