So here it is the long awaited chapter, sorry for the delay the chapter kinda took over! I was just going to do a little piece, but my brain suddenly thought 'Now's time to chat up with EVERYONE!' So it kinda took me a bit longer. Enjoy.

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John and Mary are just getting back into the car when the text alert on John's burner mobile goes off. Stopping mid sentence as his throat constricts painfully John wrenches the mobile out of his pocket and falls into his seat to stare at the screen.

"John? What is it John? Has Moran figured us out?"

The dull panic in her voice pops him out of his daze, "No, it's okay Mary, it's the phone Anthea gave me. I texted her earlier and I've just gotten a reply..." his voice fades off at the end as his attention is focused on the device in his hand. Then with a noticeable tremor in his voice he reads, "I don't know what salon he went to, which for me is surprising, but he's not been around much for me to get it out of him. I look forward to your visit, a bit more than Mummy, but that's not hard for the reckless youth. I figure I've got a few texts before she figures out I've pinched her mobile. How have you been? We've missed you."

There is silence in the car for a long, long while, then Mary places a hand on John's calming the shaking a bit, "John, that doesn't sound like code to me, it... seems so... personal somehow."

John pulls away slowly clutching the mobile to himself, "It was Sherlock, it had to have been with those statements, not understanding why he hadn't sussed something out yet, the talk of it being Mummy's mobile. Given in my text he was one of two twins I intimated were the receiver's children, it has to be him!" John sits there staring out the windscreen as Mary looks worriedly on.

Privately she wonders if this is just wishful thinking, but after a moment she realises it doesn't matter. If it is, then hopefully it will give John the drive he needs to get through to London. If not, hopefully Sherlock will have the good sense to distract him should he ask after it. Either way the boost to John's mood is infectious and Mary eventually finds herself smiling as John's fingers fly over the screen of the phone. He does so as he reads out loud what he's typing to Mary.

"Reckless youth indeed! Let's see what we get up to when I'm there, hmm? I well, travel takes it out of you, and seriously I could sleep for a year once I arrive, but there are worse things. I've gotten to see some beautiful sights in the cradle of civilisation, can't wait to tell you. PS-Why don't you just text me from your own phone now you have my new number?"

Flickering a look at his friend out of the corner of his eye he registers that she is nodding emphatically at him as he presses the send button.

With a self-important tone, "And you are going to sleep John Watson, if I have to bully your Sherlock into drugging you, or not. You will sleep!"

John nods back at her and smiles as a new text appears, "Of course I will Mary." then he opens and reads the new text chuckling under his breath, "Now that would be boring, why would I do that? Okay I will once she catches me out, but till then it will be too much fun."

Still laughing he types back, "Uh-huh, reckless youth indeed! I have to get back to sleep so I can start out early, text me tomorrow morning?" Then waits quietly till a response of "Of course." comes back in.

Then with a whoop and smile John starts up the car and starts down the dual carriageway at the maximum speed he can get away with. With any luck when Sherlock texted him again he'd be close to Paris.

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Sebastian waited till his man on the door texted him that Donovan was away, then he shoves Angela off him roughly, "Your bloody well loosing yourself in your cover, remember I don't shag agents, so try to act a bit less like a cougar on the prowl!"

Hunching in on herself a bit Angela blinks back tears, "Sorry boss, I'm a bit drunk and I know it doesn't excuse my behaviour. But you know what? It is important I can submerge myself in my cover so well, because Sally is no fool and she'd have seen through everything otherwise!"

Not replying to her valid comment Sebastian shifts gears again, "Why are you so drunk anyways? Haven't you been switching your drinks out?"

Nodding a bit wollenly, "Yes boss, but even a quarter of the number of ciders we drank would ruin a girl! I don't know how Sally did it, we drank the same amount, I went to the bar the same number of times she did... She will have a massive hangover in the morning, that I know for sure!"

Standing and beckoning her to follow Sebastian effects to have not noticed her shoulders slumping and her eyes going big and round, tears starting to gather in the corners. Mentally rolling his eyes, he steels himself to glad handling the woman again the next day. Trying not to hold himself completely rigid he leads her out into the relative quiet of the street before he starts talking again.

"So you must have told her a bit about me since I didn't need to introduce myself."

Angela trips up a curb as she hastily spits out, "Yes, well I listened to her whinging all night about that Simon of hers and suddenly she started asking questions about a man in my life. I knew you were having my conversations listened to so I gave her what she wanted."

Sebastian snorts, "And she wanted to listen you wax poetic about our 'loving, romantic, and highly sexual' relationship?"

Turning a slightly darker shade of red Angela maintains a stiff upper lip, "I had to! She begged me to tell her about the type of man that wouldn't use someone and keep her dangling. So I invented our relationship, sure! But I did it to keep her on the hook! If you can't see that, too bad, just keep thinking I'm a sad weak woman desperate for your cock!"

A smug smile on his lips he pats her heartily on the shoulder, "Good, I'm glad you have substance still. You've been playing the meek female copper so long I almost thought this part of you no longer existed! Well done you. Don't forget who you are talking to though, in my place the big boss wouldn't even wait for you to finish talking, he'd have had me shoot you straight off."

Used to this rapid shift from praise to threatening Angela just smiles and asks, "So what's our next move boss?"

"I'm still running the numbers figuring that out... Something is bothering me Angela, like I'm being stalked. There is, of course, no one there, but I still have that feeling. A nagging thought that something doesn't quite fit. Can you think of anything that might have felt like that tonight?"

They are safely ensconced in the jag and flowing through London traffic when Angela pops back out of her contemplation, Sebastian had actually thought she had fallen asleep when she speaks. "When Simon arrived was there a fraction of a second when Sally stared as well?"

Sebastian shrugs it off, "She was surprised he came having thought he wasn't interested in her."

Angela nods, "Yeah, but I'm pretty sure during her complaining she said something about Simon having silver grey hair."

His dark eyes narrowing sharply, "Are you sure about that?"

"I think so, the night is a bit fuzzy, damn ciders!"

Stifling a growl of irritation Sebastian barks at the driver, "Take us to the nearest A&E!" Turning to Angela he issues her orders, "When we get in there I want you to play up your drunkenness. Act really silly and horny, kind of how you were at the club when I arrived." Pulling a small black case out of a hidden compartment in the back of the seat in front of him he removes a syringe and picks up her right hand.

Noting the wary, tense posture of her, Sebastian sighs, "It's just a shot to help bare out my story to the hospital." With that he slides her costume jewelry ring up to her knuckle and injects her between the fingers. Sliding the ring back down he further covers the discreet location of the injection.

"We are going to go in there a loving couple scared and frightened by an occurrence at the bar we just left. On a return trip from the bog I saw a hooded person drop something in your drink. Unfortunately, being a Friday night it was packed and I couldn't get across to you before you drank most of it. We left straight away to come here and you have been getting more and more sleepy on the way."

Putting the case away he smiles humourlessly at her, "In a few minutes you'll be on the way to sober."

Angela shudders at the cold indifference and slumps against the back of her seat. The swaying of the car amplifying the swoopy, nauseous feeling growing in her stomach as she begins to wonder exactly what was in that syringe!

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Sally sighs to herself as 'Simon' stays outside the doorway to the posh penthouse flat. She wishes he would come with her to face the Holmes brothers, but realises he probably has to deal with the older one rather a lot and so knows to avoid him if possible. Squaring her shoulders and taking another slug from the black coffee, that he sweetly had waiting for her in his car, she knocks once and then strides into the room.

Immediately three sets of eyes track to her and irrationally she is irritated that all of them remain professional and there isn't even a hint of an ogle at her short skirt, or at the semi transparency of the dress material.

Sherlock breaks the silence, "Seriously Sally, your couture outfit is lovely, but seriously who is going to stare? The gay men or your direct boss?"

Feeling a bit irrational still Sally sticks her tongue out at Sherlock before flopping down, somehow elegantly, regardless of the casual movement, into a chair, "So, I met Moran tonight."

Greg who had been silently thanking Sally for not snarking back at Sherlock watches as the other two, in their reserved Holmesian way, 'grow longer ears', tilting toward her minutely. "Why do you say that Donovan?" he prompts before Sherlock can deduce it off her.

"Well for starters, Angela talked about him all night, once I got her started that is, she wouldn't stop. She talked on and on about this tall dark guy who works in personal security and how he had to loose a couple stone for his job. What kind of security agent has to loose weight for a job? Seriously, it's usually bulking up for it, to look more menacing, instead."

Holding up a hand to stop Sherlock from starting in on her, "I'm not done. Kindly wait till I've stopped talking to deduce everything - just give me a chance to do my job - alright?!" Sherlock, tilting his head to the side a bit nods, relenting and gesturing her to go on.

"Then when her bloke shows up he's almost exactly your hight, has dark brown hair which was subjected to so bloody much hair gel to keep it straight and flat I can only imagine it's just as ridiculously curly as yours. He has dark eyes, but high cheek bones and a thin lithe look about him. Christ's sake he could be a bloody body double for you in the pictures! It was almost insulting that she named him 'Ian'!"

No longer able to stifle himself, Sherlock chuckles, "Well clearly they both, to their error, underestimate you. But that is good, we can use that."

Greg sits there feeling like a thicky for a few moments, wondering why the name was so obvious. Then the subtle word play occurs to him. Ian is just the last three letters of Sebast-ian. He struggles not to react to realising it, but knows that it's a lost effort in the room with the Holmes brothers.

To his relief Sherlock is producing the picture of Moran for Sally on the mobile and Mycroft was just looking at him with a small smile. Surprised not to see a smirk and condescending attitude over his inability to pick up on the name right off, Greg is surprised to see a look of fondness. Even more puzzling is how Mycroft covers it up as soon as Greg looks at him and pretends to be looking at the mobile.

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I don't know if Seb's plot of going to A&E will have the effect I hope for, but in this case I was certain if I started looking into discovering what hospital staff would do with someone supposedly roofied, they might think I'm planning to do so or something lol! Hope you enjoined it!