Sorry, sorry again! I had some computer issues and I'm still working through them. But hopefully you can forgive me with this fluffy, extra long, chapter :) please review! (and forgive me)

Chapter 38

Jo-Ann walked up the stairs of 221B like nothing ever happened, the journal in hand. Sure, she had a small bandage on her forehead, some mild burns here and there, but she was out of the hospital. How could she not feel well? However, reaching the landing in front of the flat, she realized she didn't need her key. It was wide open, and she could hear rustling and clanging in the kitchen. Readying herself, Jo-Ann quietly entered.

Her steps remained quiet and virtually un-detectable. She didn't let herself get worked up, just in case it was Mrs. Hudson or Marius. But it couldn't hurt to be cautious.

However, she let out a relieved sigh when she entered the kitchen.

"Sherlock." She caught his attention. The detective quickly looked to her, holding random chemistry equipment and beakers in a box.

"Jo-Ann…" he said in surprise and suddenly felt nervous. "I was… gathering some of my… belongings." Sherlock explained, setting the filled box on the kitchen table. Jo-Ann breathed with a smile, to Sherlock's surprise once again. He glanced down and saw the journal. His nervousness only increased as he instantly tried to stay busy. "I see you read it." He noted casually while gathering more supplies.

"Oh." Jo-Ann realized she was still holding it and quickly went to set it down. "Y-Yeah, I did. I assumed you left it, so… It was…" she began, but found the words slipping back down her throat. Sherlock pretended not to care and blew some dust from his microscope. He went to pick it up, but the doctor interjected.

"Sherlock… you don't have to take that." She put her hand up slightly like she was trying to stop him. The detective glanced up at her with mild confusion. "I mean… you can keep it here… if you like." Jo-Ann offered. Sherlock rose an eyebrow at her unexpected behavior and tried not to get excited in a way. This meant he was allowed to visit, right?

"A-And, if you want…" Jo-Ann began, her courage rapidly fleeing her body and her words becoming lost. "We… you… you can stay here, Sherlock." She invited, awkwardly shifting in her stance. Her original "I forgive you and I want to be with you forever just never do that again" never left her mind and came out as a meek request. Sherlock froze as soon the words let her mouth. Was she… forgiving him? Even if it was only a little bit?

"… very well." He answered, and began unpacking the box. "Thank you."

"So about that jour-" Jo-Ann began as casually as she could, until Mrs. Hudson's voice sounded from downstairs.

"Sherlock! There's a man here for you!" the landlady chirped. Jo-Ann didn't bother wondering why someone knew he was there or who it was. It was so strangely familiar, she didn't notice. Sherlock grimaced like he remembered something painful, or a forgotten responsibility.

The man timidly walked through the door, smiling with hands politely behind his hands. He had pure white and wavy hair, smoothed back yet looking soft. His eyes were a dark blue and firmly set with little wrinkles at the corners. Jo-Ann got a friendly vibe from the way he dressed and stood, but wondered if he was a client.

"William! Good to see you again." The old man greeted. The doctor raised an eyebrow and looked behind here, searching for "William". Her eyes settled on Sherlock, however, and the clearly annoyed look on his face.

"Did Mycroft send you? He mentioned you were… visiting." He said with a strained voice. Something was obviously off to Jo-Ann.

"Yes, yes he did." The man chuckled. "Well by 'sending' I mean telling me where to go, I was as lost as a stray dog trying to get 'ere." Jo-Ann found herself smiling until she realized Sherlock responded to a different name.

"Wait, William?" she asked despite the late reaction. Sherlock tried to reply but the man replied faster.

"You must be Jo-Ann." he said with delight. The doctor furrowed her brow, wondering if it was her slow processing that gave it away.

"Yes, good morning." She smiled, pushing her confusion back and shaking his hand.

"Myc has told me so much about you!" he patted her hand in a jolly fashion. "Quite a woman you must be to be William's friend."

"Myc…William?" Jo-Ann glanced back at Sherlock.

"I told you never to call me that…" the detective mumbled, unpacking his science equipment once more.

"A father may call his son whatever he wishes." Mr. Holmes said with a pout. Jo-Ann simple froze with her mouth open. This man… This friendly, casually dressed, and happy old man was a Holmes?

"…Father… This is your father?" she asked even if it was impolite. Her disbelief was too great to hide. How did that come from this?

"Yes, it must be quite a shock. Go ahead and introduce me, my boy!" Mr. Holmes laughed while Sherlock felt rolled his eyes with force that could rotate the whole room.

"Jo-Ann, this is my father, Silas Holmes." The detective said nearly through his teeth, clearly uncomfortable. Jo-Ann nearly laughed at the strong comparison between them, now that they were next to each other. Sherlock was far… sharper than his father, yet they looked strikingly similar.

"Its… very nice to meet you, Mr. Holmes." She smiled with a small breath, hardly believing this was real.

The three sat in the living room and chatted, well Sherlock sat there silently, thinking, while Jo-Ann and Silas spoke. He was far more… well, funny than his son was. He joked, he was a little odd, but in an innocent way. He was, as strange as it was considering he was a Holmes, normal.

Aside from Silas talking away about losing lottery tickets, visiting the sights, and Larry Grayson, Jo-Ann was feeling at home again. Without even trying it seemed.

"So, weren't you just leaving?" Sherlock said with no warning and hopped up from his chair, making his way to the sofa.

"Uh, Sherlock he wasn't-" Jo-Ann tried to say, sitting with her cup of tea, but already knew there was no stopping it.

"Yes, he was, weren't you, sir?" Sherlock fake smiled and pulled his father up, hastily pushing him towards the door.

"Y-Yes, well, I'm here till Saturday, William-"

"YES, great, wonderful, leave." He said in ultimate hurry and went to slam the door once the old man was through the frame. But a foot stopped it from closing so a few more words could be said.

"William… Sherlock…" Silas began, "I can't tell you how glad I am. All that time, people thinking the worst of you..." Sherlock glanced back at Jo-Ann, who quietly sipped her tea, knowing not to listen. "I'm just so pleased that it's over." His father smiled gently. The detective tried once again to close the door, but to no avail. "Ring up more often, won't you?"

"Mhmm." Sherlock lied.

"I worry. Promise?"

"I promise." He said with fake sincerity, knowing the old man wouldn't leave without a polite answer. Silas smiled and backed away ever so slightly, letting Sherlock finally close the door. Sherlock sighed once his back was to the door, feeling relief finally reach him. He hoped, however, Mrs. Hudson wouldn't invite him for tea or some other unnecessarily friendly activity.

"Your father?" Jo-Ann spoke up, still processing it.

"In town for a few days…" the detective confirmed. "He wanted to catch a matinée of Les Mis and Mycroft tried to talk me into taking him. Seems my 'no' did not get through." Sherlock explained, but the tone of his voice told Jo-Ann not to push any farther. However, walking into the kitchen, she saw an unfamiliar coat.

"Oh! He left his coat." Jo-Ann said, earning a grunt from Sherlock who had opened the laptop he had brought. "I'll return it, shall I?" she said to herself and left the flat, not waiting for a response.

Jo-Ann walked out of the flat, breathing in the fresh November air and not needing to go far to catch Silas. He was walking rather slowly, head down, but looking for the right direction to go. The doctor caught up to him easily and gave him a soft tap on the shoulder.

"Mr. Holmes? You left this." She said politely and handed the coat to him.

"Oh! Thank you, dear." He smiled for a moment and put it on. "However, you can call me Silas." Jo-Ann giggled and nodded. But once the older man's smile faded, so did hers. He looked down to the ground, suddenly having a hollow look in his eyes, like he was thinking. It was a sad kind of thinking though, Jo-Ann could tell.

"Silas… are you alright?" she asked, crossing her arms to keep warm since she forgot her own jacket. Mr. Holmes lifted his eyes to her and breathed deeply, knowing he couldn't hide distress.

"May I confess something to you, Dr. Watson?" he asked.

"Of course you may! And its Jo-Ann." she smiled.

"When William-er-Sherlock and Myc were young, I… I was never there for them." Silas began after both of them sat down on the doorstep of 221. Jo-Ann felt heartache at the way the confession started, although she couldn't help a small smirk at the Holmes' nicknames. "I was controlling, cold, and a complete arse." They both laughed a little at that sentence, but continued to be serious. "Now, my wife, Violet, oh she was sweet as they came." He shook his head slightly, staring straight ahead as he remembered. "She was always fussing about, making sure we were all fed and cared for. She loved me when I thought I was unlovable." Silas's face became serious as he looked to the doctor on his left. Jo-Ann listened intently. "Sherlock never forgave me for being so horrible to her. After she died, I realized that I loved her more than anything in the world… and I had no connection with the children she blessed me with. So… I try, now, to be the father I wasn't." Jo-Ann smiled sadly, feeling both heartbreak and honor as the Holmes' father shared his secrets. Silas turned towards her a bit and took both her hands.

"Jo-Ann, I know Sherlock will never accept me now, not after the choices I've made. But I ask you, please… look after him for me… will you?"

"Yes." Jo-Ann replied right away with a sniffle. She wouldn't admit to crying, but she was close. "Yes, I will."

"Thank you." Silas smiled softly and squeezed her hands. "I see a lot of Violet in you… and at the end of the day, you're all Sherlock is going to need. Even if he forgets to say it sometimes."

They said their goodbyes with a quick hug and a mutual smile, parting ways at the door. Jo-Ann walked inside, fully intending to keep her promise. It would be easy enough, after all the worst was over now. At least, she hoped. Reaching the flat she gently closed door, seeing Sherlock standing by the desk, typing something on his laptop.

"That was not what I expected." Jo-Ann said slowly.

"What?" Sherlock asked.

"He was just so… ordinary… and kind…" she smiled, honestly not expecting to meet Sherlock's father, ever.

"It's a cross I have to bear." The detective said dramatically. Jo-Ann chuckled a bit, but became serious.

"Did he know, too?" she looked up at Sherlock, needing to find out.

"…hmm?" he asked, pretending not to understand.

"That you've spent the last two years playing hide and seek?" Jo-Ann clarified, sounding bitterer than she intended to. Sherlock picked at the keyboard, avoiding eye contact.

"Maybe…" he answered quietly.

"Ah so that's why he wasn't at the funeral!"

"Sorry! Sorry again!" Sherlock exclaimed, his words overlapping with his doctors. A bit of awkward silence fell on them, broken by the sincere and very unsure detective. "…Sorry." He said genuinely. Jo-Ann looked up at him with a sharp breath, ready to say something she would probably regret, but simply sighed. She couldn't be mad anymore, not after the bonfire incident.

"…so you… cut it off then?" Sherlock changed the subject, gesturing to her hair.

"Uh, yeah… it wasn't working for me." Jo-Ann put a strand behind her ear, actually glad to have it short again.

"I'm glad."

"Didn't like it?" Jo-Ann smirked.

"No, I like my doctors looking tidy." Sherlock smirked back, although it was a strange comment.

"That's not a sentence you hear every day." Jo-Ann chuckled and sat in her chair. The detective smiled back, hands politely behind him. He was still being formal, she noted.

"How are you feeling?" Sherlock asked, realizing she had just been out of the hospital.

"Yeah, good… just a bit smoked." She looked up at him.

"Right…" Sherlock said awkwardly, still feeling sorry and knowing it was probably his fault.

"Last night… who did that?" Jo-Ann tilted her head, like she always did when she was serious. "And why did they target me?"

"I don't know…" Sherlock admitted, swallowing air and looking down.

"Is someone trying to get to you threw me?" she asked, since it wouldn't be the first time that has happened. "Is it something to do with this terrorist thing you talked about?"

"I don't know, I can't see the pattern…" he sighed, looking to the wall. "It's too nebulous." He had papers back at Mycroft's he needed to study again, or bring to 221B considering he would live there again (he was still wrapping his mind around that one). "Why would an agent give his life to tell us something so incredibly insignificant?" Sherlock asked, remembering the files his brother had given him. "That's what's strange."

"Give his life?" Jo-Ana asked.

"According to Mycroft." Sherlock answered. "There's an underground network planning an attack on London, that's all we know." Jo-Ann nodded a bit, getting an idea of how serious this all was. Sherlock grabbed his laptop and sat down in his chair, sending a feeling of nostalgia towards Jo-Ann. he turned the screen to her, pointing at the screen filled with pictures of random people. "These are my rats, Jo-Ann."

"Rats?" She raised an eyebrow and sat forward in her seat.

"My markers, agents, low-lifes. People who might find themselves arrested or their diplomatic immunity suddenly rescinded." He scrolled through the photos a bit while Jo-Ann listened. "If one of them starts acting suspiciously, I'll know something's up. Five of them are behaving perfectly normally but the sixth…"

"I know him, don't I?" the doctor squinted at the screen, pointing to the sixth "rat".

"Lord Moran, Peer of the Realm. Minister of Overseas Development." Sherlock confirmed, turning the computer back to him. "Pillar of the establishment."

"Yes."

"He's been working for North Korea since 1996."

"What?!"

"He's the big rat, Jo-Ann, rat number one." Sherlock said, secretly feeling extremely pleased with having someone to talk to, someone who could actually keep up. Well… someone he loved. "He's just done something very suspicious indeed."

He played the video for his doctor, the one where Moran disappeared in-between train stops. Jo-Ann watched it with no questions asked, finding it as suspicious as he did.

"Yeah that's… odd." She commented when the video ended. "There's nowhere he could have got off?"

"Not according to the maps." Sherlock answered.

"Hmm…" Jo-Ann mumbled and watched the video again, looking for any signs of his exit.

"There's something, something, something I'm missing. Something staring me right in the face." The detective rambled, hating when he couldn't figure out things like this.

"Any idea who they are? This underground network?" his doctor asked. He didn't answer right away, however, as his phone chirped with new messages. He took out his phone, finding pictures of Moran walking into Westminster station. "Intelligence must have a list of the most obvious ones." Jo-Ann continued.

"Our rats just come out of his den…" Sherlock said more to himself than her. Jo-Ann kept listing her theories, but was ultimately ignored.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes!" Sherlock cheered as realization hit him. "I've been an idiot, a blind idiot!"

"What?" Jo-Ann turned to look at him.

"Oh that's good, that could be brilliant!"

"What are you on about?" his doctor turned in her chair as he began pacing, letting the gears in his head run the speed of light.

"Oh Mycroft's intelligence isn't nebulous at all, it's specific, incredible specific!"

"What do you mean?!" Jo-Ann asked with emphasis, knowing he would ramble on like this for hours if she didn't force it out of him.

"It's not an underground network, Jo-Ann, it's an underground network!" Sherlock clarified. More or less.

"Right… what?" Jo-Ann looked at him even more confused than before. The detective walked back to her and the laptop.

"Sometimes a deception is so audacious, so outrageous, that you can't see it even when its staring you in the face." He explained and replayed the security footage, watching Moran board the carriage. "Look. Seven carriages leave Westminster." He pointed to the screen. "But only six carriages arrive at St. James's Park." He stated and went back to pacing. Jo-Ann leaned towards the screen staring at the video.

"Ah but that's… I mean, it's impossible!" she shook her head, confirming that there were only six coming back.

"Moran didn't disappear. The entire tube compartment did! The driver must have diverted the train and then detached the last carriage." Sherlock explained.

"Detached it where?!" Jo-Ann wondered with disbelief. "You said there was nothing between those stations."

"Not on the maps, but once you eliminate all other factors, the only remaining one must be the truth." Sherlock spoke steadily but quickly. "That carriage vanished so it must be somewhere."

"But why, though? Why detach it in the first place?" Jo-Ann asked, crossing her arms.

"It vanishes between St. James's Park and Westminster." The detective began pacing once more. "Lord Moran vanishes, you're kidnapped and nearly burnt to death at a fireworks party-"

Then he stopped. Oh, oh!

"What's the date, Jo-Ann, todays date?" Sherlock asked suddenly.

"Hm? November…." Then it hit her too. "My God…" she couldn't believe it.

"Lord Moran, he's a Peer of the Realm. Normally he'd sit in the House. Tonight there is an all-night sitting to vote on the new anti-terrorism bill." He smiled when he completed another part of the puzzle and Jo-Ann sat there amazed. "But he won't be there, not tonight. Not the fifth of November."

"'Remember, remember'…"

"'Gunpowder, treason, and plot!'."

"There's nothing down there Mr. Holmes, I told you. No sidings, no ghost stations." Mr. Howard Shilcott stated once again over webcam. He had met the detective earlier that week; in fact, he was the one to give him the security footage. Sherlock and Jo-Ann searched frantically through maps of London Underground, looking for somewhere, anywhere, that carriage could have been hidden.

"There has to be, check again!" Sherlock said into the computer and searched through the papers on the desk.

"This whole area is a big miss of old and new stuff." Jo-Ann noted, taking part in the investigation without even realizing it. "Charing Cross is made of bits of older stations, like Trafalgar Square, Strand."

"No it's none of those, we've accounted for those." Said Sherlock, who stared at the map in front of him. "St Margaret Street, Bridge Street, Sumatra Road, Parliament Street-" he began listing the possible places to Howard, who interrupted him suddenly.

"Hang on, Hang on." He pulled the bobble of his hat out from his teeth. "Sumatra Road!" Both Sherlock and Jo-Ann looking into the webcam now, attention caught. "You mentioned Sumatra Road, Mr. Holmes. There is something…" Mr. Shilcott leaned off screen to grab another map. "I knew it rang a bell!" He came back on screen. "Yes, there was a station down there."

"Well, why wasn't it on the maps?" Jo-Ann asked.

"Because it was closed before it ever opened."

"What?!"

"They built the platforms, even the staircases…" Howard showed them the map, pointing to its location. "But it got all tied up in legal disputes. So they never built the station on the surface." Sherlock leaned back, both please and worried that everything was adding up.

"It's right underneath the Palace of Westminster." He stated.

"So what's down there, a bomb?" Jo-Ann questioned but didn't expect it to be right. Sherlock bolted out the door, taking his coat with him.

"Oh!" the doctor got up immediately and followed, leaving Howard to watch them go.

They walked through London together, like they did before. From a stranger's eye, you wouldn't have guessed they had been separated for so long. Jo-Ann didn't notice how close they were walking or that she had unconsciously agreed to be his assistant once more. Sherlock, however, noticed it all. The way she matched his pace, the glances at their surrounds, checking for danger as she was trained to do, that look in her eyes when the adrenaline began to pump. Oh, she did miss this. But she still hadn't said so. He hated guessing that all was right again. Sure there were the signs that Jo-Ann was back to her old self, but her thoughts could be completely different. She surprised him like that, more often than he would like to admit.

"So it's a bomb then? The tube carriage is carrying a bomb?" Jo-Ann spoke up as they walked through Westminster station. Her voice was completely serious, pushing away and of her fear or uncertainty so she could focus on strategy.

"Must be." Sherlock answered.

"Right…" The doctor sighed and pulled out her mobile.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling the police."

"What? No!" the detective objected.

"Sherlock, this isn't a game, they need to evacuate parliament."

"They'll get in the way, they always do. This is cleaner, more efficient." Sherlock said as they both reached a locked gate. He pulled something out of his coat and glanced around, looking for security personal or cameras. The object he had turned out to be a small crowbar that he was now using to break in the restricted area.

"And illegal." Jo-Ann noted.

"…a bit." Sherlock agreed as the door unlocked. He walked through and held it for Jo-Ann, who followed despite her arguments. Silently, the detective smiled when her shoulder brushed against him.

They both had their torches out now, searching the abandoned tunnel. Jo-Ann fell back only a bit to check her phone. She found what she feared when it read "no signal." Now they had no way to get help even if they wanted it. Sherlock noticed her trailing behind.

"What are you doing?" he asked with suspicion. Jo-Ann sighed slightly and put her mobile away.

"Coming." She answered and caught up.

They walked for a minute or two, going on narrow bridges and descending latters in the darkness. They found nothing to be worried about, which only caused them to worry more. If they were finding nothing, the bomb could just be well hidden. Soon, however, they reached the tracks. Sherlock walked swiftly towards the edge of the platform and furrowed his brow when he saw nothing wrong.

"I don't understand…" he mumbled.

"Well that's a first." Jo-Ann smirked although he didn't hear her.

"There's nowhere else it could be." Sherlock look in both directions again, and around the platform. He stopped and held his temples, thinking, picturing what could happen and where the bomb could be. Jo-Ann just stood and stared, waiting for him to come out of it. "Oh!" he exclaimed and ran to his left, causing his doctor to follow.

"What?" she asked with a bit of frustration, knowing that slowly, their time was slipping away. Sherlock didn't answer as he jumped onto the tracks without hesitation. "Hang on, Sherlock!"

"What?" he turned round, looking up at her.

"That's… isn't it live?" she asked with worry.

"Perfectly fine as long as we avoid touching the rails." Sherlock instructed and continued to walk, noticing it was some-what like the game of operation he and Mycroft played earlier in the week. Jo-Ann groaned and jumped down as well.

"Of course, yeah, avoid the rails." She mumbled to herself. "It's not like we could die or anything. Great."

"This way." Sherlock instructed as he shined the torch down the tunnel.

"You sure?"

"Sure."

They walked onward, making sure they stayed on the safe part of the tracks. It didn't take long for them to see the carriage in the distance.

"Ah, look at that." The doctor said, shining her light.

"Jo-Ann, look." Sherlock said quietly, looking towards the roof of the tunnel.

"Hm?" she looked up as well, finding a large hole above her that surely led to the surface. But the unsettling bit of it was the packs of explosives placed on the walls. "Demolition charges…" she said, pushing down the worry in her gut. She exhaled deeply, to relax herself, and lead the way forward, keeping her eyes on the carriage now. Her breaths remained steady as she and Sherlock looked down the sides and underneath the carriage before entering. It was dark and eerie, lit only by the light of their torches. Sherlock walked in first, cautiously and carefully. Jo-Ann followed, scanning for movement or even an unusual shadow. But they found nothing wrong with the carriage, it appeared as any other they had been on.

"It's empty… There's nothing." Jo-Ann informed him. Sherlock inspected the walls of the carriage and spotted a few wires grouped together.

"Isn't there?" he said as he followed the wires down to their destination. The doctor furrowed her brow and shined the light to ease his sight. The detective saw that they went underneath the seat cushion, something he found a bit odd. None the less, he lifted the seat to find his breath hitching. Sherlock turned to his doctor, trying to stay calm.

"This is the bomb." He told her.

"What?" Jo-Ann gasped slightly and found nothing better to say purely out of shock.

"It's not carrying explosives… the whole compartment is the bomb." Sherlock stated and pulled the seat cover off, revealing demolition charges lining the small space. Seat after seat they searched, finding explosive material in each one. Jo-Ann kept her breathing steady, remembering that nothing had been activated yet, they were… sort of safe. Sherlock was deep in thought of what this meant, not only for London but for them as well. He walked to the middle of the carriage and heard that he had stepped on something, perhaps another compartment. The doctor kept revealing more and more explosives, adding up the damage each on could cause. Sherlock removed his gloves and knelt to the ground. He ran his fingers along the edge of the panel and lifted it once he got a hold.

Inside the large compartment was the bomb. The center of the whole system. Jo-Ann took deep yet quick breaths, pushing her fear back down.

"We need bomb disposal." She told Sherlock, shining her torch on the detonator.

"There may not be time for that now." He replied grimly. She inhaled sharply and kept her eyes down.

"So what do we do?" She asked. Sherlock thought for a long moment but said,

"I have no idea."

"Well think of something." Jo-Ann told him, meeting his eyes but keeping her head down, making for a most serious glare.

"Why do you think I know what to do?"

"Because you're Sherlock Holmes, you're as clever as it gets." She said more as a statement than a compliment.

"That doesn't mean I know how to defuse a giant bomb! What about you?"

"I wasn't in bomb disposal, I'm a bloody doctor." Jo-Ann said, losing any patience she may have had at some point.

"And a soldier, as you keep reminding us all!" Sherlock commented. She thought for a moment before suggesting anything.

"C-Can't we rip off the timer or something?" Jo-Ann said.

"Well, that would set it off." He replied.

"You see? You know things!" she shouted. Sherlock sighed heavily with an eye roll.

Their arguing stopped, however, when the tube compartment suddenly illuminated with power. Both the detective and his doctor nearly spun in circles trying to figure out what was going on. Until their eyes settled on the timer that started counting down. The bomb was active, giving Jo-Ann no reason to be calm anymore.

"Oh… my God!" she began pacing as her heart raced, seeing that the only had two and a half minutes at accomplish anything. Sherlock instantly began looking for switched, buttons, anything they may have accidentally pressed. "Why didn't you call the police?!" Jo-Ann half whispered due to her stressed voice.

"Can you just…"

"Why do you never call the police?!" she said angrily now.

"Well it's no use now." Sherlock told her.

"So you can't switch the bomb off?!" Jo-Ann walked to the detonator and glared at Sherlock. "You can't switch the bomb off and you didn't call the police!" She stomped away even if only for a few feet. This was too much, too much to handle all at once. Why could he never listen to her? Just once! Sherlock remained silent for a few moments.

"Go Jo-Ann." He gestured to the exit. "Go now."

"There's no point, is there, because there's not enough time to get away and if we don't do this, other people will die!" she shouted. Only two minutes left. If only she could remember reading or hearing something about bomb disposal in the war she could- oh!

"Mind palace!" Jo-Ann exclaimed out of nowhere and pointed at the detective.

"Hmm?"

"Use your mind palace!" she told him, sounding like a jedi master.

"How will that help?" Sherlock asked her with annoyance.

"You salted away every fact under the sun!" Jo-Ann argued.

"Oh what, and you think I've just got 'how to defuse a bomb' tucked away in there somewhere?!"

"YES!" she shouted, believing he could remember any grain of dust that flew a little too close to his nose. Sherlock stood there for a moment, considering it.

"Maybe." He said, placing his finger tips on his temples and beginning to focus.

In all honesty it didn't take long.

There it was, the little diagrams he had seen of terrorist bombs while away. They all had an off switch, seeing as plans don't always go accordingly and there had to be an emergency cancellation now and then. However, Sherlock's face read something different than his thoughts. He needed to hear her say it, for her forgiveness to be spoken if there was any. He needed to know where they stood. And the truly best way to get someone to admit something is either interrogation, torture, or the threat of death. Incidentally, Sherlock could perform all three at once. Oh of course he felt guilty about it, but it would make for a very funny memory.

Sherlock scrunched his nose and shook his head slightly, making it appear as he was thinking harder than he ever had before.

"Think! Please think!" Jo-Ann whisper as she stared. "Think!" she ordered. Sherlock strained and groaned, nearly shaking with effort.

"I CAN'T!" he finally shouted, breathing heavily. He looked up to Jo-Ann, his face once of pure apology. Her mouth formed a few words before deciding.

"Oh my God!" she turned from him, feeling her last hope slip away. Sherlock took off his scarf and knelt by the bomb, running his hands down his face, trying to focus. "This is it…" Jo-Ann said to herself. The detective searched the detonator frantically, each breath more panicky than the last. Ah, there is was, Sherlock noted. The tiny off switch on the side of the bomb was silently flipped by the detective, going unnoticed. "Oh my God…" the doctor breathed with her back to him, finally and fully realizing her fate.

"Turn it off… uh… oh God-uhhhm…" Sherlock muttered as he pretended to continue searching. The clock was stopped at one minute, twenty nine seconds. He only hoped she wouldn't notice it's lack of counting. Sherlock slowly looked up to her, finding that she was already staring at him.

"… I'm sorry." He breathed out quickly. Jo-Ann closed her eyes tight and tried to stay calm.

"What?"

"I can't… I can't do it, Jo-Ann." Sherlock whispered. "I don't know how." He sat back on his knees and pleaded. "Forgive me."

"What?" Jo-Ann almost hissed.

"Please, Jo-Ann, forgive me… for all the hurt that I caused you." He put his hands in prayer-like position.

"No, no, no, no, no… this is a trick." She smiled and shook her head.

"No."

"Another one of your bloody tricks."

"No."

"You're just trying to make me say something nice." She actually wasn't wrong, but this wasn't just for laughs. Sherlock needed to hear her forgiveness. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't.

"Not this time." He told her after a momentary pause.

"It's just to make you look good." Jo-Ann was hoping it was all just a trick, really it was the only hope she had. "… Even though you've behaved like…" she cut herself off when she felt her throat close. She couldn't cry, not now. It was just a trick… she hoped. But after a moment's thought, she sighed heavily and held onto the pole next to her for steadiness. The more she thought, the more she knew this was real. Sherlock sat down with his back on the seat behind him. Anger raised in Jo-Ann, whether it was a trick or not, she needed to say a few things. She stomped her foot down.

"I… wanted you… not to be dead." She hissed.

"Yeah well… be careful what you wish for." Sherlock looked up to her with apologetic eyes. "If I hadn't come back, you wouldn't be standing there and…" he paused, trying to summon some tears. "…You'd still have a future… with Marius."

"No, I would have a future next to Marius." Jo-Ann clarified.

"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked, not expecting that answer. The doctor closed her eyes tight, as she did her fists.

"… I… could never be with Marius… I can only stand next to him because of you." She whispered painfully. "Listen, I find it difficult, all of this, this sort of stuff. Saying goodbye, moving on… So I never did it. I… You were the best and wisest man I have ever known." Jo-Ann began crying only a little, having trouble getting the words out. "So don't be surprised when I say that I never will love someone as much as I loved you… as much as I still do, Sherlock." She finally made eye contact, seeing the look on his face that was utter shock. "And of course I forgive you."

Sherlock now felt his mind go blank. Well… that was certainly what he wanted to hear, but far more as well. His entire body froze as he stared into her eyes and he stayed that way. Jo-Ann didn't notice, however, since she was currently bracing for death. A few moments passed, and she waiting for a sudden blast of heat or to be… well incinerated, but it didn't happen. She waited another few seconds, and it still didn't happen.

Jo-Ann opened one eye, glancing at the detonator to see how much time they had left… and found the clock stopped one minute, twenty nine seconds. She watched to see if the seconds passed but it remained at one twenty nine.

"OH YOU-" she realized and paced again. "Utter… you- you cock! I knew it! You…" Jo-Ann shouted, slightly glad it was a trick but to angry to notice. She was ready to say so much more, when she saw her detective in a state of shock. "You know I will kill you if you ever breathe a word of this!" she told him, but worried a bit when he didn't respond. Or move. Or even blink. "Sherlock?" she tried to call him back but he just sat there. Truth be told, it was getting scary. Radio chatter caught the doctor's attention, as police officers approached the carriage. "And you did call the police!" she exclaimed, even if there was no response.

The police came in and secured the bomb, calling in for back up and an ambulance for Sherlock, seeing as how he was in shock. Sherlock also couldn't walk of climb latters, so the medics had to come to them. Jo-Ann sat by him, watching them give him a shock blanket and tell her he would be fine. It had been ten minutes before Sherlock suddenly spoke up.

"You… I'm your…" he asked Jo-Ann but found she was no longer in front of him. He instantly searched for her and jumped when he saw her sitting next to him.

"Well that was frightening." The doctor smiled, "Glad you're out of it."

"What? Who- when did all these people get here? Why do I have a blanket?" he looked so confused, Jo-Ann couldn't help but giggle a bit.

"You were in shock for a long time and the police came. You called them right?"

"Well yes but… you love me? Still?" Sherlock changed the subject rather quickly and looked her right in the eyes. She sighted and felt her heart warm just a little.

"Yeah, I do." Jo-Ann looked at him as well. "God help me." She smiled. Sherlock nodded absently and found himself chuckling a bit. His doctor laughed as well, but surprised him with a kiss on the cheek.

"Welcome home, Sherlock." She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder.