Holmes sucked in air, looking at his hands. "Oh," he said quietly, to which she nodded.

"Yeah, in fact, I was going to be in an arranged marriage." She smiled. "Sort of funny, isn't it?"

"And who was this person?" Watson shrugged.

"Johnny. He was always clinging on to me like a leach. Hated him, had face only a mother could love." Shuddering, she drew her knees up farther.

"I have to get going," he said, starting to climb the escape ladder. "I'll be back soon."

"Errands?" she said, knowing the answer, not wanting to know what they really were. If he couldn't tell her, then it must have been something to truly give him a guilty conscious. He turned and gave her a small, pained smile.

"Errands."

For five minutes she sat, doing nothing but thinking. So many things could happen, she thought, if they know I'm here, then they'd be after me. I know too much. I turned my back on them.

"Liv? Foods here!" hollered Koo.

"Coming!" she called back, going inside to someplace she knew and felt safe.

"Holmes had to leave?" Krys said with a full mouth, getting a nod and a plastered smile.

"He had things he had to do," Watson smiled, turning back to the papers. Unfortunately, they were gone. "Holmes," Olivia growled, knowing where they were. The pocket of his jacket, she'd bet her life on it. "I'm going to bed!" She groaned.

"Fine, see ya in the morning," said Koo, while extracting his sister's last piece of pepperoni pizza off her plate.

Curling in a ball, Watson tried to block out all that was happening and relax. That was an impossible feat in its own self. She hugged her pillow as she remembered a day with her father.

"Olivia, meet Sandra," her father said cordially.

"Nice to meet you, miss," she curtsied, receiving a glare from her father. Oh no, she thought, I didn't do it right! Oh no, oh no, oh no.

"A pleasure, Mr. Watson, she's an angel!" the woman exclaimed, taking off her fur coat. Daddy has coats like that; he has a warehouse full. He got mad one day when I started to tell my friend about them.

"In most cases, yes," he answered. "Olivia, I would like you to meet Johnny Edwards."

A little boy came up from behind her. Olivia flinched. The boy's skin was sickly pale, and his hair was greasy black. He wiped his nose and held out his hand. Olivia took it, hiding her disgust.

"He's going to be your husband."

Without turning, Olivia could feel her mother straighten up. She didn't like this, not at all.

"I'm sorry I have to cut this short, but my darling step-daughter Diana has piano lessons. She's so talented! Her father is so proud of her." Olivia was taken by the hand. On looking up she saw it was her mother. They walked off as the Lady and her father talked.

She and her mother had left soon after; realizing her father would stop at nothing to keep the family business going. Mum was protecting me, the only way she could.

Sighing as pain started to kick in in the back of her head, she rolled over and padded in to the bathroom, taking a pain reliever and slipping back into bed.

As daylight hit her eyelids (as well as Jimmy Eat World started to blast on the alarm clock), Watson sat up and without opening her eyes sighed while she threw the clock across the room. I wonder how many of those I go through a year. Five minutes later she was sitting at the table, which had been added to an additional seat (Koo's impossible feat for the day, since the table was small and crammed in the corner) with Koo, Krys, and Holmes, who was staring at his bowl.

"Problem, Holmes?"

"Yes, what is this stuff?"

"Cereal."

"Ah, and you eat it?"

"Yup, it's sweet, too."

Koo gestured with his spoon at a candy in the bowl. "And that's what you call a chemically engineered marshmallow. Ah, technological advancements."

Krys hit him on the back of the head, then turned toward Watson.

"Can I borrow your baby?" Krys asked anxiously, while Holmes choked on his cereal in the background.

"No! I didn't even say hello to her. No, Doc and I spent too much time cleaning her back up last time you took her for the day. Nope, nope, nada!"

"Fine. I wanted to walk anyway!" Marianson stomped out of the room and slammed the front door.

"Baby!?!?! Watson . . ."

She rolled her eyes. "No, that's just my nickname for my motorcycle. I call her my baby because she's a really good bike and all. I spend probably more time, money, and effort on her than you and your brother probably spent on makeup for disguises."

"Oh." He said, showing signs of relief, "I thought you meant-"

"I know I told you stuff like that is done today, but, not me. I'm an old-fashioned girl who will not settle for anything but a gentleman when it comes to a marriage someday." She blushed, realizing what she had said. Watson tried to change the subject quickly. 'Well, since I've got nothing better to do, how about a little tour of the city?"

He smiled. "I'd love to."

As they walked through the city, Olivia felt better than she had ever remembered. Hell, she thought, I could probably hurl four Moriartys at this moment.

Slowly, realizations of what she felt had started to creep up on her, and she always felt anxious around Holmes. She always had something she wanted to say or do, but knew it was wise not to. Watson constantly found the need to mentally slap herself, and it was more than twice everyday.

She stopped to think for a moment, and Holmes went on without her. When he realized this, he turned and looked at her anxiously.

"Are you alright, Watson?"

Aw, look, Liv, he's worried about you. That's so cute, said a voice inside her head.

Olivia, don't take it as a sign, think of what you'll loose if it's not real! Said another.

She smiled weakly at him and nodded, and he grinned at her.

Ooh, tell him no and that you have to kiss him!

No, don't do it! Look away! Think of road kill! Anything, just not him! Pretend it's that creep Moriarty, or John Watson!

"Yeah, I'm fine." They continued to walk on. "You know, though, Krysten was acting weird and I think I should go check at home, to make sure everything is okay. Do you have things you have to do?"

"No, I'm yours for the day." He looked away after speaking, but she could see the side of his face was redder than it was before from the cold weather.

"I know what you meant, Holmes. I'm not going to think that's suggesting anything, so don't worry. Home?"

"Sounds good to me."

Five minutes later Olivia was hanging their coats up while Holmes went into his own room. She shrugged to her self. He had as much a right to privacy as anyone else. He was probably homesick, she decided. Tea would do the trick.

Gliding past the coat rack, Olivia realized that something was missing from the key rack. The left side, second in. Motorcycle's key's spot. Missing equaled Krysten. Watson growled.

"Great, just great." She soon found it was not over. A piece of paper was tacked to the spot instead.

Olivia and Holmes;

Don't look for me. Took Koo and the motorcycle. Be back later.

~K.

"Well that helps much," she muttered under her breath. Actually, it did. It would allow her to ask Holmes what she was worrying about the most recently.

If he was involved in drugs.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on his door and waited until he opened it.

"Holmes?"

He grunted as he turned to clean up some papers on the table.

"Holmes, I really need to ask you something."

"Fire away," he said without turning or really paying attention.

"Are you leaving the house to do drugs?"

Holmes' gaunt frame became rigid. He turned slowly towards her. "Why do you think I would ever do such a thing?"

She looked at the floor. "Because you've done it in the past, and it's easy to get your hands on that sort of stuff if you know were to get it."

He grabbed her by the shoulder and sat her down on the seat. "Olivia, didn't I promise to be clean when you asked me to, the first time?"

She nodded, remembering that night when she had seen what he had been doing to himself. Watching it was worse than it was described in the books.

"You had my word as a gentleman then," he leaned almost inches from her face. His breath was heavy on her face as he finished. "You still do now."

"Then, then what are you doing?"

"Do you want to know? I didn't tell you in the first place because I knew you'd try to become involved."

She nodded furtively.

"I've rounded a group of Irregulars. They've been helping me with the Doggs' case. We think we've found a way to cut some of the threads of the web. One, at the least."

"Explain, Holmes."

"They have an account that's been linked to them. I've gotten connections in there and found out ways to cut their account."

"Hacking?" He frowned.

"How did you know?"

"Simple, and easy, but in this case you trip a flag and you're gone."

"Yes, that's one of the ways, but we also have another. Get in the manager's office and delete the count is another. The manager is in his 30s, single, lives alone, like women a lot."

"You need someone to put on the moves him, don't you?"

"Yes, and that's why I didn't want to involve you in this."

"Too late, you did. When did I start?"

"Now."

"Can I please speak to the manager?" The tan, cherry redheaded young lady pouted. Her skimpy tight shirt catching the eyes of many a man, she leaned on the desk and made direct eye contact with the young clerk. "It's very, very important."

The man nodded quietly and walked toward the back, followed by an older man of stocky build. This man eyed her and smiled.

"Come on back."

She giggled and slung a cartoon-festooned backpack over her shoulder, following the man to his office. He closed the door with a soft click and slicked back the little hair he had left.

"So, how can I help you?" he said with an attempted debonair smile.

"I need to open an account- oh, you have something on your lapel. Here, let me help you with that." She leaned across the desk to his neck to extract the material.

"Oh, you don't have to do-" He never finished his sentence, he was snoring in the chair.

"Damn, I love pressure points," said the woman as she grinned and extracted a laptop from her bag. She took out a gray, strange looking piece of equipment from her bag as well.

"Hope this works, Marshal." She bit her tongue as she placed it on the wires coming out of the wall with a soft 'click', then took the cable running off the device and plugged it into her computer. She had to smile as she sat cross-legged on the floor. "Cake, and eating it, too."

It was a simple process to get in. The bozo left his password under a picture of some super-model. The bank system also supported a user-friendly system to access accounts. Perfect; it was beautiful. A few strikes of the keys and the account was gone. Not before making a copy of all the information the bank had on it, of course. With a smirk on her face she left the room.

"Did it work?" her friend said as she climbed into the driver's seat of their rented car. He watched her anxiously.

She paused for a moment before turning the key in the ignition. "You worry too much."