A/N: Thank you SimMagnet for your review. I'm glad you're liking my story. The next few chapters will be quite Moriarty central. :D

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Chapter Twenty-Eight: Folkin' Around

'Damn my lungs Sherlock!' John exploded as I tried to explain why I'd come to see him. It was out of character for me to go see him. However, I was lonely and I wanted someone to talk to. 'I can make it out of the apartment to see you! I've been back in work for three weeks now.' He'd made his mark at Sarah's apartment; His laptop lay dormant on the countertop and his favourite mugs where littered beside the sink. His music was playing softly in the background; the TV was on a news channel on mute. 'I'm sick of being careful. I wasn't an invalid with my battle scars; why would I be now?'

I watched as he calmed the blush of anger from his face. It was true; people of late were wrapping him up in cotton wool. Even I was guilty of that. John Watson was adaptable; I had to remember that. He might not be able to get me out of scraps and run after bad guys; it didn't stop him from being my right hand man from time to time.

'How about you come with me to see Molly in morning when I go check up on a case?' I tempt him and I see it has worked; he straightened up in his chair and allows the tops of his ears to turn pink. 'No Sarah, no Sam; No one to tell you to be careful.' I smile hopefully at him and he smiles back. 'I'll meet you there at noon?'

'You're not planning on going at even and leaving me there like a tool?' He eyed me suspiciously.

'I'll only leave you there if something comes up last minute.' I insist forcefully. He smiles. 'Now how are your wedding plans? Do you want me to arrange a stag do?' I try to keep my face unreadable but inside I was churning. How does one go about planning a stag do when the very thought made me ill.

'The only thing that you need to do is pick up your suit. No stag, nothing else. I just want to marry the woman of my dreams. Any word on your novel?'

'I recalled it because I wanted to make a few changes; don't tell Sam.' I explain with a cryptic smile. I'd put a plan in motion that I was not prepared to reveal just yet.

'Four months without a hiccup; I'm proud of you.' John slapped me on the shoulder as he ventured into the kitchen for another cup of tea. 'How is she in the field?'

'She is amazing; obviously not in the same sense as you. She has the people skills I sometimes lack.' I joined him in the kitchen as the kettle began to boil. 'Sam and Donovan get on well now. Anderson ended things with her and –'

'Sam did what any woman would? I think Donovan has been spending quite a lot of time with Sarah and Sam; I'm sure she's gone to Bath with them.'

'Interesting.' I sunk back onto the countertop.

'What?' John asked as he finished making both cups. I was deep in thought, compartmentalising what Sam had said.

'Sam phoned me when they arrived, she didn't mention Donovan being there. In fact she said it was just her and Sarah.'

'No, there are at least five of them.' John informed me with hesitation. Why would Sam lie to me? I drank my new cup of tea to be polite and left not long after. I had some things to arrange before the morning.

I arrived back at Baker Street an hour later and Lestrade was there waiting for me; reading through one of my books.

'Any news?' I asked it, dispensing with pleasantries.

'Nothing; he's like a ghost. I'm worried. This usually means he's planning something big and intricate; something that requires solving.' Lestrade placed the book back where he found it before masticating his thumb nail.

'He does have a flare for the dramatic; but it's beginning to bore me.' I picked up my violin.

'Your brother is tracking down his birth certificate. He said he would tell you first if he finds anything, so would you get in touch-'

'You'll be the first to know.' I plucked at the strings absent mindedly; producing nothing of any musical value as my thoughts processed. 'How do you know this; have you two finally out grown your political feud?'

'I- I asked him to. I have a theory that he was born outside of the UK and that's where he keeps hiding.' He explained with a bashful tone.

'Fancy a nightcap?' I ask, putting down the violin and entering the kitchen.

'Knowing your idea of a nightcap? No thank you.' He made for the door.

'I've been clean for a month. I made a choice; I chose Sam.' I intone and he pauses.

'Good man. Shame you didn't make that choice before she overdosed though!' He reprimands me. 'If anything would have happened to her; you know I would have killed you right?'

'How did you-' I began to ask. I thought we'd been careful; Sam insisted that no one knew what happened. She told me she had no intention of telling her therapist therefore we were to pretend it hadn't happened.

'Your brother contacted me. Moriarty had left him a message that day; I staked out your place that night. He wanted someone to be there for you. When you never left or contacted anyone for emergency services. I knew you were ok.' He explained with a tired smile.

'Thank you.' I uttered solemnly.

'Look, I'm a couple of men down this weekend; so pop by in the afternoon and let me know what you find.' Lestrade left me alone in my apartment.

I was woken up at ten by the bleeping alert that informed me there was a text on my phone. For the first time since Sam moved in, I had fallen asleep on the sofa. I stretched out all the kinks and clicks from my body before reaching for my phone:

I've had a fight with Sarah and come home. Meet me in the tea shop- one hour! X

Why didn't she just come home? I roughed up my hair as I quickly stepped into the shower, dressed just as quickly and made my way to the tea shop. I could be there, collect Sam, and still meet John on time.

I was expecting her to be sat in her usual seat when I arrived, but there was no sign. I ordered my drink and tried to ignore the feeling that something was wrong. I sat in her seat; facing away from the door and all of the customers in the shop. I'd downed my drink and ordered another and there was still no sign. Perhaps she was still on the train and had text while she was on her way back from Bath.

My phone began to ring; noon! Damn, It'd stood him up.

'Sorry John-' I began to explain but he instantly cut me off.

'Listen to me. Sam didn't-'

'-I know, she's come home. She's meeting me-' I gulped down my tea that was brought over by the familiar guy behind the counter.

'-No Sherlock, she never arrived She told them she'd get the next train because she had to pick something up. Sherlock, she never arrived. Sarah's worried.' He explained to me. 'We've both tried ringing her phone but it's off.'

'But Sam phone when she-' I was confused; where had she been? What was with the phone call? 'Well, wherever she's been, she's meeting me here. I'll get her to ring Sarah.'

'Thank you.' John ended the call and I returned to my drink. There was something different about the peppermint tea they'd brought me. I looked to the tab of the bag; still the same make. I shrugged off yet another unsettling feeling and sipped at my tea before my phone rang again.

'Hello brother.' I droned and acknowledged the caller that appeared on my display.

'Listen to me carefully. I haven't got long.' His voice was shaken and full of panic. 'I've found out why he wants Miss Doyle.'

'Why are you whispering?'

'Because Miss Doyle is in the next room and I don't know if I should tell her.' He explained to me and my heart began to race. Mycroft was meant to be in New York.

'Paris.' He hissed once more and my blood ran cold. If she was in Paris, who was I meeting? 'She was given false information. She never intended to go to the hen do; she was going to locate Moriarty. However, I intercepted her and brought her to France with me. She's safe; for the moment.'

'What is it-' My sense were dull and I felt heavy. I inspected my empty cup; what was that underlying taste that the peppermint could not hide. I felt my heart begin to slow despite itself. My eyes arms felt as if my blood had been replaced with lead. Had I been poisoned?

'Sherlock Miss Doyle-'

I didn't find out; the world went black as the drug that had laced my drink took hold. What I didn't know was that I would never have found out anyway; my brother didn't get to finish his sentence. The revelation that would make sense of everything would forever be poised on his tongue.