The candles were lit and the menus were put out in front of Maria and John as the evening's date was ready to begin. In a lot of ways, John was nervous because as he looked at her, he noticed she appeared distanced from him. She was fiddling with her engagement ring, running her fingers over the engraving and its complimentary jewel. He never did ask her why she didn't take it off. He thought it had something to do with its size – perhaps the radius of the ring argued with the thickness off her finger. But even when Sherlock offered to give her some cream to remove it, she declined as if the metal still held some significance to her life.

John moved his fingers over hers gingerly to which she poked up her head up to meet his eyes.

"You okay?" he asked timidly with a smile.

"Perfectly okay, John." She replied, returning the smile.

John patted his fingers on her hands before moving them back to his menu, skimming the contents to decide what he fancied. Maria, however, didn't do the same.

"John."

He responded to see Maria with her eyes scanning the restaurant.

"What's wrong?" he questioned, looking around the room himself.

"I don't know about you, but I think we're being watched." She whispered as she leaned in closer to John. "I think it might be Steven…"

"Steven? Isn't that your fiancé?" he gestured to the ring before making a correction. "Ex-fiancé, sorry."

Maria nodded as she peered over her shoulder out of paranoia. She suddenly began to sit up.

"Maybe we could move to another table?" she suggested.

John gestured her to sit back down gently. "Look, if he is following us, it's nothing I can't handle. He won't lay a finger on you, I can promise you that."

Maria returned back to sitting in her seat and picked up the menu in front of her. She opened it to see what was available, but her gaze continued to linger across the room.


Mycroft strutted into the front room, holding his umbrella tightly by his side as his brother watched whilst he sat in his chair with his hands clasped together. Mycroft began to speak but shut his mouth once or twice as he tried to think of what to say. Sherlock knew that his elder sibling was contemplating whether to say what needed to be said because he closed his eyes, shook his head, and grasped the top of his nose with his fingers until taking a look at his sociopathic younger brother and then repeating the process.

Eventually, Sherlock became inpatient with the reluctant and indecisive Mycroft and was about to insult him in a sarcastic manner until the government official finally spoke.

"I'm not certain how you are going to respond to this, dear brother." He began, sauntering over the chair opposite Sherlock and taking a seat. "But, you are my only hope."

Sherlock stared the man intensely, wondering what was going on. What news could possibly make his reaction unpredictable?

"What is going on, Mycroft?" He asked with suspicion.

"Answer me this: if someone threatened the life of John Watson right in front of you, put a gun to his head, and you could so easily shoot that person, would you?"

The sociopath looked at his brother strangely before his face lit up; a smile emerged and grew wide and he then began to chuckle.

"What a stupid question!" Sherlock laughed, finding the question so silly to even think to ask.

But Mycroft wasn't finding anything funny. He just stared at him indefinitely, seeking the more mature side of his brother to arrive.

"Answer me, Sherlock. It is important that I have your word." Mycroft insisted with seriousness.

The consulting detective stopped with his chuckles and said, "Of course I would shoot them. I would never let John stay in harm's way."

"Then allow me to change your mind." Mycroft produced three folded pieces of paper from inside his jacket. "Or at least, persuade you to make an exception."


The waiter collected the two plates from the table as John and Maria drank their wine and continued to have a blast.

"Mm, that meal was so good!" she said with joy. "Honestly, the best meal i've had so far in London!"

"I'm glad you enjoyed it since I am the one paying." John bantered.

"Oh no, we'll split it." Maria asserted, waving her hand dismissively. "Besides, you already paid for the cab."

"Well, I won't argue to that!" he grinned, taking the final take of his drink.

When he did so, his attention went back to the engagement ring on Maria's finger again as it had done previously.

"I hope you don't mind me asking this, but why do you still wear that engagement ring?" he queried, folding his arms on the table.

She looked down at the ring herself nostalgically and began to twist it around her finger.

"I suppose I've never been able to bring myself to take it off." She explained. "It's like; he's still in my life even though I try to shut him out."

"Maybe it feels like he's still in your life because you haven't taken it off?" John suggested. "To remove that memory of him, you may need to commit to closure."

"That's probably what it is, John." She said, her tone a bit more happy. "I have an idea."

Maria began to pull the ring off her finger with immense force, hurting her hand as she tried. It was as if the ring had burrowed into her skin. However, she managed to remove it with a little more effort.

"What are you going to do with it?" John asked as Maria suddenly got out of her seat.

She didn't reply and instead pulled her arm back and then threw the ring as if from a catapult, sending it into the other end of the restaurant.

"There. Closure." She said smiling and turning to John. "Now, let's get out of here."


The couple exited the place laughing and joking around, holding each other's arms as they walked to the road. There was a cab waiting for them, the driver of which was smoking at the wheel carelessly.

"So, do you want to come to my place?" Maria asked flirtatiously. "I don't have work tomorrow, so a lie-in would do no harm."

John checked his watch, thinking it was about time he actually went home to make sure Sherlock was behaving and hadn't caused too much chaos.

"I'd love to, but Sherlock is home alone and that's pretty much the scariest thing I can think of right now. Maybe next time." He said apologetically.

"Oh." She replied with sadness and discontent. "That's fine, I guess."

Maria then released herself from John and gave him a peck on the lips before getting in the cab and mouthing 'call me' into the window back at him. John chuckled as looked around for another taxi after her one had left. There seemed to be no more on the street, but as he turned to his left, he saw one just parked on the corner with a driver slightly visible. He assumed it was waiting for a new customer, so he made his way towards it.

The vehicle was not far from John, but he still had to walk a bit to make it obvious that he wanted a lift. He was nearly halfway to being right at the passenger door and to grab the driver's attention and he raised his arm and waved in an attempt to be noticed.

But all of a sudden, his arm was pulled down, his mouth covered by a gloved hand and his body forced into a side alley, completely coated in darkness. He began to muffle words of aggression, as he tried to hit his attacker with his elbow to escape from their grasp, but no use. He started to stamp at their feet to catch them off guard but, again, his attempt was futile. These ineffective methods of escape were used over and over again by the ex-army doctor as the attacker pulled and twisted at John's limbs to get him to submit, but only thing that did the job quicker was a simple jab of a needle into his neck.

John became heavy, his arms and legs weakened and his vision impaired. The attacker tried to hold his body up, but it wasn't possible. John ended up with his knees on the floor, only his upper body being held up right with difficulty. He was just murmuring slurred words endlessly, listlessly as the emptiness of darkness consumed him.

"Sherlock…" he gasped hazily. "Sherlock... Sher…."