*Sorry for the long wait. I went through a bout of writer's block. I hope the longer chapter makes up for it. As always a heartfelt thanks to all my readers. Thank you for all your reviews. Please let me know what you think*

I was just finishing breakfast when there was a loud pounding on my front door. I stood up brushing crumbs from my mouth. I unlocked my door and was pushed to the side as Sherlock sped into my apartment.

"You know it was much more convenient when you lived upstairs," he said.

I looked outside to make sure John wasn't waiting to be let in, when I didn't find him I shut and locked the door, shaking my head.

"Good morning Sherlock, would you like a coffee?" I ask exasperated.

He was the most high maintenance man I had ever met.

"Yes, that would be nice," he said looking through my books.

I frowned at him and went to the kitchen to pour him a cup.

"You have an odd taste in books," he said, surprised.

I laughed at his audacity and handed him his coffee.

"What is odd about my taste in literature?" I asked, slightly annoyed.

I was very protective of my books, and the fictional characters they held.

"They are almost all YA novels," he said.

I nodded, as if to say and what of it? Getting my gesture he continued.

"Well, do you only read teenage fantasies?" he laughed.

I slapped his shoulder and sat down at the table.

"Excuse me, there is nothing wrong with loving YA novels. I love a good fantasy and YA novels have only the best." I explained, drinking my coffee.

"Not all of us love to read about tobacco ash." I teased.

"Touche'." he laughed.

I offered him the seat in front of me, and he sat, crossing his legs.

"So, would you like to explain your early visit? Or do you not realize it's only six a.m?" I asked, with a yawn.

He took a sip of his coffee staring at me intently.

"When do you start work?" he asked out of the blue.

I smiled at his question as I buttered some toast for him. I made him a plate of leftover eggs and bacon. I added the toast and handed over the plate.

"Eat," I ordered.

He stared at the food incredulously. I tapped my fingers on the table irritatingly.

"Sherlock, you have to eat. I know you think it slows you down, but that's bullshit. Eating breakfast has been proven to improve brain function." I stated simply.

His eyes grew in shock at my foul language. I stood up and moved to the chair right beside him. Picking up his toast I lifted it to his mouth coyly.

"Come on Sher, you know you want to," I said, never looking away from his eyes.

He bit into the toast with a small growl. I pulled my hand away with a laugh.

"See. Food is good Sher, now to your previous question. I start tomorrow." I said, watching him eat, feeling proud of myself.

He stopped eating to look at me, fear present in his eyes.

"So, I guess you won't be joining me on cases anymore," he said, his voice cold.

I ran my fingers through his curly hair with a sigh.

"Sher, I'll still join you, just not as much. It's not like I'm moving across the country. I have to work, how else will I make money?" I asked with a smile.

He grumbled, filling his mouth with food. I hadn't even noticed until he gave me an odd look, that I had still been playing with his hair. I chuckled, pulling away, but he grabbed my hand putting it back in his hair. I leaned on his shoulder, enjoying how peaceful everything felt in this quiet moment. My phone interrupted us, I pulled away hearing Sherlock sigh loudly. It was nice between us right now, easy, there was no need for awkward labels or expectations. I gave my phone a hateful look as I lifted it to my ear.

Sherlock watched me closely as I talked.

"Hello?" I asked.

The person on the other end surprised me greatly, how had he gotten my number?

"Hi, this is Detective Inspector Dimmock. I was calling to ask if you might be free for lunch today?" he hopefully asked.

I only just held back my surprised laugh.

"Give me a second to check my calendar." I cheerfully said.

I put my phone on mute and started laughing.

"Who was that?" Sherlock asked hatefully.

"Hey watch the attitude, Sher. It was DI Dimmock, he wants to go to lunch." I laughed.

Sherlock's face fell. "A date? I thought you weren't dating," he asked.

I leaned in closer to him.

"Im not love, i'm as surprised as you are," I explained.

He finished his food and took his plate to the sink, washing it. I enjoyed the view of domesticated Sherlock before pulling the phone to my ear.

"Sorry, it took so long. I'm not free today. Maybe another time." I politely said, earning a glare from Sherlock.

He sounded dejected but told me he'd call me back another time. I hung up my phone and cleaned the table off. Sherlock decided to take a tour of my apartment, slipping into my room. I tossed the paper towel I had used to clean the table into the garbage and followed him. I stood in my doorway and watched him walk around the room, looking at all my pictures. He stopped at the one my bedside table and I froze. He examined it curiously and I tapped my fingers against my folded arms.

"When was this taken?" he quietly asked me.

I walked to him and took a long look at the picture. It was of John and myself cuddled together on the beach. We were facing the ocean, he had been sitting behind me, his arms wrapped around my body. We hadn't even known the picture was being taken. We were just enjoying the sunset.

"We were eighteen, it was taken when we went on holiday with our friends," I told him, unable to hide a smile.

It was a good memory.

"And you keep it by your bed?" he sighed, putting the picture back down.

I took his arm and pulled him towards me.

"Why the sullen attitude? John is my best friend, of course, I have pictures of us. That's not something that is going to change." I stated.

He looked anywhere but at me, and I grasped his chin, turning his face towards mine.

"Sher, you've been acting odd. Is everything ok?" I asked.

He pulled away from me and headed towards the kitchen.

"Are you still in love with John?" he stuttered.

I stopped in my tracks, surprised by his question.

"Am I in love with Johnny?" I laughed.

I grabbed my robe from the back of my door, not really wanting to have a serious conversation in my silk nightie. I sat on the couch and looked straight into Sherlock's eyes.

"No Sherlock I am not. I will always love him, but no I'm not in love with him." I said, annoyed by the whole conversation.

Sherlock's shoulders slumped and he sat next to me.

"I don't know whats going on with me. I don't understand sentiment, it's a weakness, one I will not tolerate. But then I get near you, and my whole world implodes. You're different, and I don't know how to deal with that." he honestly told me.

Well, I had really been hoping to avoid this conversation.

"I don't know what to say, Sher. How about we just work on our friendship, then just see where it goes." I leaned in, pulling him into a hug.

"I care about you, but we are still so new to one another. Let's not make a mountain out of a mole here." I grinned, using an old saying my mom would use.

His eyes softened and he smiled. I stood up and pulled him with me.

"Ok well, your welcome to stay but i'm gonna jump into the shower. We do have a lot to do today." I said.

Sherlock shifted from one foot to another. I chuckled and walked to the door and held it open.

"Staying or leaving?" I asked mischievously.

He ran his hand through his hair and headed into the hallway.

"I better go get John up for the day. We have to go to Scotland yard, then the morgue, so we should get going soon." He nervously said.

I kissed him on the cheek, much to his surprise. "No awkwardness Sher, everything between us is ok," I assured him before waving goodbye.

I shut the door and continued to the bathroom for a shower.

A few hours later John, Sherlock, and I stood in front of Dimmock's desk, frowns on all our faces. This man was infuriating. He stood, his back towards us, rummaging through paperwork. It was obvious he was trying to ignore our protests.

"How many murders is it going to take before you start believing that this maniac is out there?" John huffed.

I crossed my arms and glared daggers at him. Dimmock turned and walked in between us, heading for another desk. John turned around and followed him. I was proud of his backbone, he used to be a lot shyer and would take a lot of bull before ever standing up for himself.

"A young girl was gunned down last night. That's three victims in three days. You're supposed to be finding him." John firmly said.

Sherlock walked in front of John to get closer to Dimmock. John headed over to me, throwing his hands up in exasperation. I patted his shoulder and joined Sherlock.

"Brian Lukis and Eddie Van Coon were working for a gang of international smugglers - a gang called the Black Lotus operating here in London right under your nose," Sherlock said, leaning in closer to Dimmock to emphasize his last point.

Finally, Dimmock decided to meet his gaze. "Can you prove that?" he sighed.

I nodded enthusiastically. "That's where I come in."

Barts Hospital Morgue

Sherlock and I found Molly in the canteen, staring at the self-service display.

"What are you thinking: pork or pasta?" I asked her.

She spun around, surprised by my voice. "Elisabeth! What are you doing here?" she smiled.

"Liz or Lizzie is just fine. Actually, i'm here on behalf of Sherlock here. This is his mission." I said, motioning towards Sherlock.

Her brow crinkled for a moment before looking at him.

"I'd stick with the pasta. Don't wanna be doing pork - not if your slicing up cadavers." he joked.

I grimaced at his poor humor. He really was hopeless. She grinned nervously at him.

"What are you having?" she asked him, nodding to the display.

"Don't eat when i'm working. Digestion slows me down," he told her.

I took a few steps back, feeling like an intruder. There was obviously something between the two. What that was, I wasn't sure, but whatever it was, it's definitely there.

"So you're working here tonight?" she asked, a hint of excitement in her voice.

Yep, she was a smitten kitten.

"Need to examine some bodies," he said.

Molly looked confused for a moment.

"Some?" she asked.

"Eddie Van Coon and Brian Lukis." he stated.

Molly lifted her clipboard and looked it over. "They're on my list," she said.

Sherlock turned on the puppy dog eyes, making my jealousy flare up. What was he playing at?

"Can you wheel them out again for me?" he pouted.

Molly's face looked doleful, she clearly wanted to give Sherlock whatever he wanted.

"Well...the paperwork has already gone through." she tried to explain to him.

Did he really wanna get her in trouble? I was starting to feel sorry for Molly, it was plain to see, she was in love with Sherlock. He had to know that. Sherlock's eyes lifted a little like he was just noticing something.

"You've...changed your hair," he said, pointing at her parted hair.

Molly started patting her hair nervously.

"...What?" she stuttered.

I couldn't watch the poor girls googly eyes any longer. I quietly stepped out of the canteen, going completely unnoticed. I started down the hallway and towards the morgue. I could easily wait outside until Sherlock's shameful flirting was over and done with. Was this going to be what I had to deal with on a regular basis now? I felt so bad for Molly, being hurt by someone you love is devastating, especially if those feelings aren't returned. But maybe they were, maybe Sherlock really did like her.

I found John and Dimmock standing beside the morgue door. Looks like I wasn't the only one who knew Molly would fold. Heck, I didn't even need to be here for this. Sherlock had it covered. Five minutes later Sherlock and Molly met us at the morgue door. Sherlock eyeing me curiously. Molly led Dimmock and John inside, as I was about to walk in, Sherlock pulled me to the side.

"Why did you leave?" he asked.

I pulled my arm from his.

"Sherlock, you're on a case," I said, wanting to avoid the conversation.

That's all he needed to remind him of what was important. We headed inside and found two body bags lying on adjacent tables. I stepped over to Molly and pulled on some gloves. She smiled brightly at me.

"Wanna help me Lizzie?" she asked.

I stood straighter, my professionalism kicking in. I actually missed this.

"Of course." I grinned.

I leaned in and unzipped the top of the bags, to reveal the faces of Van Coon and Lukis. Sherlock stared at me, an amused expression on his face.

"The feet?" I asked Sherlock.

He nodded and I lifted Lukis right foot from the bag. I checked the bottom of his right heel and gave Dimmock a satisfied smile. I showed them the small tattoo of a black lotus flower. Identical to the one on Soo Lin's foot. Sherlock straightened up, a smug smile on his face and walked with me over to the body of Van Coon. I looked at Molly, asking if she wanted the honors. I traded places with her, removing my gloves. I washed my hands as Sherlock showed Dimmock Van Coons Lotus flower tattoo.

"Oh!" I heard Sherlock sarcastically say.

"So..." Dimmock said awkwardly.

I joined them again, enjoying Dimmock's uncomfortable posture.

"So either these two men just happened to visit the same Chinese tattoo parlor or I'm telling the truth," Sherlock answered.

Dimmock sighed in resignation. "What do you want?"

Sherlock stepped closer to Dimmock. "I want every book from Lukis apartment and Van Coons." he firmly said.

Dimmocks face was priceless. "Their books?" he said, unbelieving.

Back at 221B

We walked into the living room, taking off our coats as we went. John sat in his chair with a heavy sigh of contentment. Sherlock stood by the window, lost in his mind. I threw my bag on the couch and sat on the armrest of John's chair.

"Not just a criminal organization; it's a cult. Her brother was corrupted by one of its leaders." John said a matter of factly.

I nodded in agreement. "Soo Lin said the name, didn't she?" I asked them.

"Yes, Shan; General Lee Shan," Sherlock told me.

Never looking away from the window.

"We're still no closer to finding them." John worriedly added.

"Wrong. We've got almost all we need to know. She gave us most of the missing pieces." Sherlock said, waiting for us to agree.

"It won't be that easy Sher, the decoder could be anything," I said nervously.

Sherlock ignored my statement and went on.

"Why did he need to visit his sister? Why did he need her expertise?" Sherlock mumbled.

John and I both thought of the question for a moment before it snapped into place for me.

"She worked at a museum," I said, slapping my forehead.

"Exactly," Sherlock said.

I crossed my legs and tapped my thigh, a nervous habit.

"An expert in antiquities. Mmm, of course. I see." John said, finally catching on.

I placed my hand on his head, ruffling his hair. He brushed me off with a playful sigh.

"Valuable antiquities, John. Ancient Chinese relics purchases on the black market. China's home to a thousand treasures hidden after Mao's revolution." Sherlock explained, reminding me of a professor I had in America.

"And the Black Lotus is selling them," he stated.

Not long after our talk on the Black Lotus. We were all in separate parts of the apartment. Sherlock sat at the dining room table surfing for recent auctions. Focusing on any showcasing Chinese or Asian works. I sat in the living room on my phone doing the same. John stood in the kitchen making us all tea. The entire apartment was silent apart from the light sounds of Sherlocks and my typing. Or the occasional sound of John moving around in the kitchen. It was an uneasy, but comfortable silence.

"Check for the dates." I heard Sherlock mumble to himself.

"Here Elisabeth," Sherlock said, pointing to something.

I stood and walked over to see what he had found. I looked over his shoulder at the screen.

"Mmm." I hummed.

He pointed to a particular auction lot - two Chinese Ming vases.

"Arrived from China four days ago," Sherlock said, excitedly.

He ran his finger down the details and landed on sales information at the bottom. Source - Anonymous.

Damn.

"Anonymous. The vendor doesn't give his name. Two undiscovered treasures from the East." I said, annoyed.

"One in Lukis suitcase and one in Van Coons," John said, handing us cups of tea.

I looked down at my phone and accessed the search engine.

"...Antiquities sold at auction." I said while typing.

I waited for the results to pop up, blowing on my hot tea. "Look, here's another one," I told Sherlock.

I bent down so he could look at my phone.

"Mmm," he mumbled.

"Arrived from China a month ago: Chinese ceramic statue, sold four hundred thousand," I said.

John grabbed Lukis journal and looked between it and Sherlock's screen.

"Ah, look a month before that - a Chinese painting, half a million," he told us, showing Sherlock the journal entry.

"All of them from an anonymous source. They're sealing them back in China and one by one they're feeding them into Britain." I said, slightly impressed.

John gave me an incredulous look and shook his head. I took a look over John's shoulder and back at the computer screen, matching more of the entries.

"Every single auction coincides with Lukis or Van Coon traveling to China," I stated.

"So what if one of them got greedy when they were in China? What if one of them stole something?" Sherlock guessed.

"That's why Zhi Zu's come," John answered.

A knock at the door caused me to jump, almost spilling my tea. I rolled my eyes at myself, as Mrs. Hudson's voice filled the room.

"Ooh-Ooh"

The boys turned towards her voice, waiting for an explanation.

"What do you need Mrs. Hudson," I asked politely.

She motioned towards something out in the hallway, with confusion on her face.

"Sorry. Are we collecting for charity, Sherlock?"

Sherlock's annoyed voice came from behind me. "What?"

Mrs. Hudson came further inside wringing her hands together.

"A young man's outside with crates of books," she said.

Shortly afterward, two unarmed police officers were carrying in yet another plastic crate to add to the many that had already been dumped in the living room.

"Right, so...fifteen and one: that means..." John asked, trailing off at the end.

"Turn to page fifteen and it's the first word you read." Sherlock simply stated.

John nodded his head lifting one of the books from its crate.

"Okay. So what's the message?" John asked.

Sherlock caught my gaze and rolled his eyes.

"Depends on the book. That's the cunning of the book code. It has to be a book they both owned." Sherlock snarkily said.

"Okay, right. Well, this shouldn't take too long. Should it!?" John asked, hopeful.

I lifted my own book from one of the numerous crates, sighing tiredly. This was going to take forever!

I sat the book down on top of a small stack of others, lifting them into my arms I stumbled over to the couch. I sat my small stack on the coffee table and threw myself onto the couch with a humph. Sherlock eyed me warily. I gave him a half smile and started on my first book, as he headed to get his own. I heard someone coming up the stairs and met the gaze of the boys with a shrug.

Dimmock stepped into the living room with an evidence bag in his hand.

"We found these, at the museum," he said.

He showed the bag to John and I noticed the photographs Sherlock had taken of the ciphers. Ignoring the rest of their conversation, I went back to work. I only tuned in again when Sherlock snidely told Dimmock, in not so many words, to shut up and leave. I looked over my book at Sherlock, who was still eyeing Dimmock with disdain clear on his face.

Dimmock looked to me and I quickly avoided his gaze. I heard footsteps nearing me and closed my eyes in annoyance. I put the book on my lap and scooted over as Dimmock sat next to me.

"So Liz, when this is all over how about that lunch?" he asked me.

I ground my teeth together trying to remain calm. I saw Sherlock watching us, a panicked look on his face.

"Listen, I would, but I just started seeing someone." I lied.

"Since this morning?" he asked unbelievingly.

I squinted at him in frustration. "Its an ex of mine, well not anymore, I guess. We have been talking lately and just decided to give it a go again. Sorry." I said, feigning regret.

"Well, if that doesn't work out, you have my number." he smiled.

I tilted my head and lifted the book up, hiding my face. He finally got the point and headed out.

A small cough alerted me to someone trying to get my attention. I put the book down, reaching for another.

"Yes John, can I help you?" I asked, annoyed.

"So which of your two exes are you currently dating at the moment," he smirked.

I kept my gaze on the book and answered plainly. "Well, ones a psycho and the other an ass. So, neither. I just denied his advances, without hurting his ego." I stated, with a shrug.

John smirked at me, grabbing another book for himself. I tossed the book I had just picked up, annoyed. After I finished my pile, I stood and made my way to the crates to grab another. I chanced a glance at Sherlock, whose eyes were glued to a book in front of him. I stood in place going through book after book, unable to sit anymore. Sherlock's deep voice brought our attention back to him.

"Cigarette.", he said, slamming the book shut.

John and I looked at him with a shrug. Sherlock leaned into the crate in front of him rummaging through it.

"Coffee anyone?" I asked the boys.

They both nodded in unison. I headed into the kitchen and looked through the cabinets. Of course, we're out of coffee.

"Guys, we are all out of coffee. I'm gonna head to the shop." I said, getting no response.

I grabbed my coat and headed out. If I was going to pull an all-nighter I'd definitely need to buy coffee.

Hours and many, many books later.

I woke up quickly, a sudden slamming noise shattering my dream.

"A book that everybody would own," Sherlock said to himself, pulling books from his shelf.

I looked him over, he had been at it all night. I sighed and sat up, stretching myself out. I felt something stuck to my face and brushed it off. A post-it note started falling into my lap.

A reminder that I'm due at work today. John must have stuck it to my face, knowing id forget. I quickly glanced at my watch and gasped. I had an hour to get dressed and get there. I hate being late, so I hopped over the coffee table and ran downstairs, slamming the door behind me.

I showered in haste and threw on a simple outfit. I headed back upstairs throwing on my coat and bag as I went. As I stepped inside I heard Sherlock talking to John.

"I need to get some air. We're going out tonight.", he told him.

I smiled and grabbed myself a to-go cup of tea. God bless Mrs. Hudson and her early morning tea and biscuits. I tossed a few into my pocket and started eating one on the way towards the door.

Neither man noticed me as they discussed Johns date tonight.

I wasn't at all surprised, he had already told me about

Stephanie...Samantha...Sarah, yeah Sarah.

I thought I had gotten away Scott free until Sherlock stopped me.

"Now, where are you going?", he asked me, annoyed.

I spun around in a rush. "Sher, I have to go to work remember? It's Monday love." I explained in a huff.

John fled quickly, passing beside me with a simple pat on the shoulder. I waved apologetically at Sherlock and ran downstairs. John stood beside a taxi, holding the door open for me.

"Thank you, Johnny," I said. He closed the door and waved goodbye as we sped forward.