Danielle had never been more happy to be at Baker Street.

She followed Sherlock and John into their flats. They stopped at the bottom of the stairs, catching their breath. Danielle was using it all up again laughing.

"Okay, that was ridiculous." John remarked. He relaxed on the wall beside Danielle. "That was the most ridiculous thing I've ever done."

"And you invaded Afghanistan."

And for some reason, that was the funniest thing Danielle had ever heard. She giggled, clutching her stomach as she laughed harder. Sherlock laughed too, which echoed by John was the most beautiful sound

"That wasn't just me." John excused, which made Sherlock and Danielle giggle.

"Stop it." Danielle wheezed. "Stop making me laugh. I pulled a muscle of something running. If I laugh anymore I think I'll die."

The two men laughed again.

"Why aren't we back at the restaurant?" He asked, catching his breath.

Sherlock waved his hand. "Oh, they can keep an eye out. It was a long shot anyway."

"So what were we doing there?" John asked.

"Because we're tired and I'm done with runnin'?" Danielle voted. John laughed at her remark, probably thinking it was a joke. Or maybe too hopeful a dream.

Sherlock laughed too, covering it up as clearing his throat. "Oh, just passing the time." He smirked at John and Danielle, more pointedly at John she noticed. "And proving a point."

"What point?" John asked. Danielle held up a finger in agreement, pointing it at John.

"You." Sherlock answered. Because he was clearly impossible at giving a straight answer. He turned to Mrs Hudson's flat door. "Mrs Hudson! Doctor Watson will take the room upstairs."

"Says who?" John asked.

"Says the man at the door." Sherlock answered cryptically.

Like the heroine in a horror movie who just knows the killer is behind her with a knife, Danielle turned to the door.

A man knocked.

"That was weird. John tell me that was weird." Danielle asked.

"It was." John agreed. John stared at Sherlock in surprise.

Sherlock was no doubt grinning smugly.

John walked up to it- where he found the energy, Danielle didn't know, the man must be some kind of mythological creature. He opened the door to reveal Angelo.

Sherlock rested again the wall. He let out a long breath. Danielle finally felt like she could breath normally.

"Sherlock texted me." Angelo revealed. He held up the items in his hands. John's walking cane, and a takeaway bag. "He said you forgot this."

John and Danielle gawked. Danielle walked over to Angelo, accepting the takeaway bag.

John took his cane. "Ah."

The two turned back to Sherlock who indeed was grinning like a smug son of a bitch.

"Thank you, Angelo." Danielle remembered to say.

It prompted John to mutter his thanks. "Er, thank you. Thank you."

Angelo smiled kindly at Danielle and John.

Once the door was shut, Mrs Hudson stepped out of her flat. Her expression was full of upset. "Sherlock, what have you done?" Mrs Hudson asked, sounding on the verge of crying.

Danielle almost wanted to hug her. Was it okay to hug someone about to cry? Or should she wait until the hugs weren't so...cry-y? Then again Danielle disliked hugs so maybe a reassuring shoulder pat?

"Mrs Hudson?" Sherlock asked.

"What's wrong? Are you alright? Do you need something- tea, biscuits, your programs?" Danielle rambled.

Mrs Hudson refused to answer. "Upstairs." She replied.

Sherlock dashed up the stairs. Danielle- with a firm hold on the takeaway bag- dashed after him.

Once they made it upstairs, Danielle saw the detective inspector Lestrade sitting in Sherlock's chair. The room was full of other policemen, searching the shelves.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock demanded, annoyed at the Inspector.

"Well, I knew you'd find the case. I'm not stupid." The Inspector explained.

"You can't just break into my flat." Sherlock argued.

"And you can't withhold evidence. And I didn't break into your flat." Lestrade pointed out.

"Well, what do you call this then?" Sherlock waved his hand to his tossed over flat.

Lestrade looked around the flat. "It's a drugs bust." Lestrade answered, innocently.

Danielle's eyes widened.

"Seriously?!" John laughed loudly. "This guy, a junkie?! Have you met him?!"

Danielle scoffed too, laughing. Until she saw Sherlock's face. And he wasn't laughing. It was almost like a 'dammit I LIKED these ones, Lestrade!'

"John. Danielle." Sherlock spoke softly.

"I'm pretty sure you could search this flat all day, you wouldn't find anything you could call recreational." John continued on.

Danielle's face fell when Sherlock came up to John's side. "John, you probably want to shut up now." He implored.

John scoffed again, grinning like this was all a big prank. "Yeah, but come on." He replied. Sherlock held his gaze for a long moment. Then John knew. "No."

"What?"

"You?"

"Well he is really thin-"

"Shut up!" Sherlock snapped at the both of them. He whirled around to Lestrade. "I'm not your sniffer dog."

"No, Anderson's my sniffer dog." Lestrade corrected. He bobbed his head to the kitchen.

Danielle remembered she had been holding food- probably a good idea to put it in the kitchen. She changed her mind purely because it was Sherlock's fridge. She'd seen the rats feet from earlier, who knows what science-y stuff he had in his fridge? Danielle lowered the takeaway bag onto the table beneath the headphone wearing head.

"What, An-" Sherlock looked to the kitchen. Sure enough Anderson waved his hand at them, a smug look on his face. "Anderson, what are you doing here on a drugs bust?"

"Oh, I volunteered." Anderson admitted too happily to be considered nice. Danielle wanted to shake her head at him.

"They all did." Whelp Danielle gave up on finding a nice person in this flat beside herself and John. "They're not strictly speaking on the drugs squad, but they're very keen."

Danielle leaned over to John. "So all these people went willingly into Sherlock's flat? And I'm just supposed to believe they didn't expect a murder house?"

John laughed, covering it up when a nearby officer sent a confused look there way. Danielle laughed too.

The female detective came up. She held up a jar that looked like it was for a pickles. "Are these human eyes?"

Danielle was right. Sherlock did have other weird science stuff in his kitchen!

"Put those back!" Sherlock demanded.

"They were in the microwave!" Donovan argued.

"It's an experiment." Sherlock excused, implying she was an idiot for not putting that together.

"Keep looking, guys." Lestrade instructed the policemen. He stood up, staring down Sherlock in an epic battle of wills. Or a less epic request. "Or you could help us properly and I'll stand them down."

"This is childish." Sherlock argued. He started to pace, so was his fury.

"Well, I'm dealing with a child." Danielle coughed, covering up a whisper of how sick a burn that was. John heard it, covering up his smile again. "Sherlock, this is our case. I'm letting you in, but you do not go off on your own. Clear?"

"Oh, what, so-so-so you set up a pretend drugs bust to bully me?" Sherlock countered with a glare.

"It stops being pretend if they find anything." Lestrade pointed out.

"I am clean!" Sherlock defended him.

"Is your flat? All of it?" Anderson called out from the kitchen.

Sherlock thinned his lips, pointedly ignoring the man. "I don't even smoke." He pulled back his sleeve, showing off the nicotine patch. He must've thrown out the other two, Danielle reasoned.

"Neither do I." Lestrade showed off his own arm, complete with nicotine patch.

Sherlock put his sleeve back to normal with an indignant huff.

"So let's work together. We've found Rachel." Lestrade informed.

"Who is she?" Sherlock asked.

"Jennifer Wilson's only daughter." Lestrade answered.

Danielle wanted to drop her jaw. Her guess was...right? What the fuck? She was never right!

"Her daughter? Why would she write her daughter's name? Why?" Sherlock whispered to himself.

"Never mind that. We found the case." Anderson walked away from the kitchen. He pointed at the pink suitcase. "According to someone, the murderer has the case, and we found it in the hands of our favorite psychopath."

"I'm not a psychopath, Anderson. I'm a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research." Sherlock bit back so fast it was like he had rehearsed it, for when this argument ever came up.

'Except why would he tell you the killer had it, if he was the killer?' Danielle asked herself. She had the feeling her question wouldn't be appreciated so she shut her mouth.

"You need to bring Rachel in. You need to question her. I need to question her." Sherlock instructed Lestrade.

"She's dead."

"Excellent!" Danielle blinked in surprise. "How, when and why? Is there a connection? There has to be."

"Well, I doubt it, since she's been dead for fourteen years. Technically she was never alive." Lestrade explained. Danielle's heart sank as she guessed what had gone wrong. "Rachel was Jennifer Wilson's stillborn daughter, fourteen years ago."

Danielle almost let out a sad sigh.

"No, that's...that's not right. How...Why would she do that? Why?" Sherlock asked, confused.

Danielle could pick up on the confusion. To miss your dead daughter so much, you etched her name on the floor.

"Why would she think of her daughter in her last moments?" Anderson asked, mocking Sherlock. "Yup-sociopath; I'm seeing it now."

"She didn't think about her daughter. She scratched her name on the floor with her fingernails." Sherlock stressed. Danielle thought about it. Sherlock had a point. "She was dying. It took effort. It would have hurt." Sherlock started pacing again.

"You said that the victims all took the poison themselves, that he makes them take it." John reasoned. "Well, maybe he...I don't know, talks to them? Maybe he used the death of her daughter somehow."

"Yeah, but that was ages ago. Why would she still be upset?"

Danielle hummed in emotional pain. She lowered her chin to her chest, shaking her head as locks of redish hair fell to block her face.

"Not good?" Sherlock asked.

"Bit not good, yeah." John answered.

"Never say it again or we'll kill you in your sleep." Danielle corrected plainly. Yes she said that outloud. Make fun of her for it, and she'll kill you in your sleep.

Sherlock waved her off. "Yeah, but if you were dying...if you'd been murdered: in your very last few seconds what would you say?"

"'Please, God, let me live'." John answered in a soft voice.

"Oh, use your imagination!" Sherlock huffed.

"I don't have to."

There was a small silence as the meaning of his words hit Danielle and Sherlock.

"Oh I was wrong. That was worse than the other thing." Danielle whispered to herself. "Sherlock never say that thing either."

"Well then what would you say!" Sherlock prompted her, anything to make her and John forget he was being a prat.

Danielle bit her lip in thought. She wondered, wondered that if she had a daughter who died, and now she was dying and she'd wrote her name out in the floorboards. Why her daughter's name? What about the name was so important in that moment that Danielle would write it to the people who would find her? The suitcase caught her eye and she thought she more.

"Her suitcase?" Danielle tried. Sherlock and John looked at her in confusion. "Maybe it has something to do with her-" She stopped herself, something else coming to mind. "Her phone. He has her phone."

"Yes?" John answered.

"Well that would be stupid of her, yeah? To leave it in the car." Danielle stated. "Except she wasn't stupid. She had boyfriends, loads of them and an unhappy marriage. She couldn't be stupid."

"She was clever." Sherlock pondered, trying to pick up that line of thought. Danielle brought up good points but they just weren't enough. "Really clever. She was trying to tell us something!"

Mrs Hudson walked in, interrupting. "Isn't the doorbell working? Your taxi's here, Sherlock."

"I didn't order a taxi. Go away." Sherlock continued pacing as if she hadn't spoken.

"Oh, dear. They're making such a mess." Mrs Hudson walked up to Danielle and John. What are they looking for?"

"Drugs." Danielle answered simply.

"It's a drugs bust, Mrs Hudson." John added.

"But they're just for my hip. They're herbal soothers." Mrs Hudson defended.

"Shut up, everybody, shut up!" Sherlock raged loudly. Danielle jumped back. Don't move, don't speak, don't breathe. I'm trying to think. Anderson, face the other way. You're putting me off."

"What? My face is?!"

'Well it's a pretty snake like face-"

"Everybody quiet and still. Anderson, turn your back." Lestrade ordered.

"Oh, for God's sake!"

"Your back, now, please!" Lestrade repeated.

"Come on, think. Quick!" Sherlock raised his fingers to his head to think.

"What about your taxi?" Mrs Hudson asked.

"Mrs Hudson!" He raged.

Danielle was ready to hit him. She stared at him in shock. How dare he snap at Mrs Hudson?

Mrs Hudson went back downstairs. Danielle almost- almost- followed. The idea of hitting Sherlock for being rude was too good an offer to pass up.

"Oh." He beamed. "Ah! She was clever, clever, yes! She's cleverer than you lot and she's dead. Do you see, do you get it?" Sherlock beamed, as it all came together in his head. Danielle was shaking her head at him. "She didn't lose her phone, she never lost it. She planted it on him."

"Yes! That's what I was thinking!" Danielle cheered, mostly for herself. "Cause the killer had the phone, that's why we chased that cabbie!" She walked over to the table, where an open laptop sat beside her leftovers. She pulled up a Find-My-Phone site.

"When she got out of the car, she knew that she was going to her death. She left the phone in order to lead us to her killer." Sherlock ranted to everyone else.

"But how?" Lestrade asked.

Sherlock paused, as if astounded that Lestrade could still not have caught on. "Wha...? What do you mean, how? Rachel! Don't you see? Rachel!" He announced. Danielle looked over her shoulder to see everyone staring blankly at Sherlock. "Oh, look at you lot. You're all so vacant. Is it nice not being me? It must be so relaxing. Rachel is not a name." He finished sternly.

"Then what is it? John snapped, just as (if not more) stern.

Sherlock "John, on the luggage, there's a label. E-mail address." Sherlock instructed. He turned to the table, only to see Danielle already sitting there.

"Typed in the password, waiting for the email." She supplied. She glanced at John. "John?"

"Er, jennie dot pink at mephone dot org dot uk." John read off.

Danielle typed it in.

"Oh, I've been too slow. She didn't have a laptop, which means she did her business on her phone, so it's a smartphone, it's email enabled." Sherlock explained to the policemen. Though probably more for Lestrade so everyone would get out of his flat. "So there was a website for her account. The username is her email address, and all together now, the password is?"

John came over to the desk, looking over Danielle's shoulder "Rachel." He realized.

Danielle hit enter.

The site loaded.

"So we can read her emails. So what?"

"Anderson, don't talk out loud. You lower the IQ of the whole street." Danielle would have to remember that one, it was funny. "We can do much more than just read her emails. It's a smartphone, it's got GPS, which means if you lose it you can locate it online. She's leading us directly to the man who killed her."

"Unless he got rid of it." Lestrade pointed out.

"We know he didn't." John defended.

"Nobody died so it was okay." Danielle excused. She didn't look away from the laptop screen.

"Come on, come on. Quickly!" Sherlock stood behind Danielle. He smacked the books on the table impatiently.

"Sherlock, dear. This taxi driver-"

Sherlock marched to the door. Danielle was happy for it. "Mrs Hudson, isn't it time for your evening soother?" Okay less happy if it was to scold Mrs Hudson. Then again she was bringing up that cab thing a lot.

Te page loaded. It told Danielle the phone would be located in a moment. She huffed. John with her.

"We need to get vehicles, get a helicopter. We're gonna have to move fast. This phone battery won't last forever." Sherlock spoke behind her.

"We'll just have a map reference, not a name." Lestrade pointed out.

"It's a start!" Sherlock countered.

Danielle beamed as the map appeared. "Sherlock!" She called to him.

"It narrows it down from just anyone in London. It's the first proper lead that we've had."

"Sherlock." John tried.

"Sherlock..." Danielle called again.

The consulting detective had enough with both of them. He marched to Danielle's free side to look at the screen. "What is it? Quickly, where?"

"It's...huh." Danielle hummed. "Here."

"No, that says it's 221 Baker Street." John pointed at the screen.

"Nah, see I've done this before." Danielle corrected. "If it meant in the flat, it would be at the flat. Spent an hour searching my flat only to find it in the bins outside- my cat pushed it out a window. This says it's outside so it's outside."

"How can it be here? How?" Sherlock asked.

"Well, maybe it was in the case when you brought it back and it fell out somewhere." Lestrade remarked. Clearly not having heard Danielle, which the landlady thought was rude.

"What, and I didn't notice it? Me? I didn't notice?"

"Anyway, we texted him and he called back." John reminded the Detective Inspector.

"We chased him for a bit but it turned out to be a cabbie." Danielle added.

"You don't need to add that part." Sherlock hissed in a low voice.

Danielle shrugged. "Well sorry for trying to be accurate."

"Guys, we're also looking for a mobile somewhere here, belonged to the victim, some of you go out in the alley outside and check-" Ah so he had heard Danielle. Lovely. Danielle knew he was a good one.

"Sherlock, you okay?" John asked.

Danielle turned to the man. Yeah, Sherlock didn't look his best. He had this vague look on his face. The Thousand Yard Stare, Danielle thought.

"What?" Sherlock asked. He turned to them, blinking his eyes back to focus. "Yeah, yeah, I-I'm fine."

"So, how can the phone be here?" John asked.

Sherlock looked back to the door. "Dunno."

"You dunno?" Danielle pointed out.

John stood up, reaching for his pockets. "I'll try it again." He pulled out his phone.

"Good idea." Sherlock murmured, walking away.

Danielle watched him go, confused.

John too. "Where are you going?"

Sherlock "Fresh air." Sherlock answered.

"We just got a lot of fresh air runnin'!" Danielle reminded.

"Just popping outside for a moment." Sherlock replied vaguely. He walked to the stairs, "Won't be long."

"You sure you're alright?" John called out.

"I'm fine." Sherlock called out as he vanished down the stairs.

"He's not fine, right?" Danielle asked John.

John bit his lip, staring after Sherlock.

==NKMHLY==

AN: I did it! Sat down, hunkered down the hatches, and wrote this update. I''m literally being powered by soda and chocolate.

Thanks to tammycharles, Jasmine Verbeek, Kylie Winchester, zamzym, for favoriting

Thanks to tammycharles, Jasmine Berbeek, Ms. Sarcastic, Kylie Winchester, amanidawalker, Thorin No-Can-Shield, unicornNsweets, for following