AN: As always, anything resembling ACD's stuff is ACD's stuff.

Chapter 3

            The first half was absolutely amazing. I was completely blown away by the whole experience; third row orchestra definitely had its benefits.

            "Glad you're enjoying the show," Holmes remarked as the lights came on for intermission.

            I grinned. "Yes, thank you so much!" We stood up and followed the crowd to the lobby, where refreshments were being served.

Holmes suddenly darted off without a word. It must be the case, I figured, as I picked up a bottle of water from a nearby table. I was used to this too.

And then I noticed someone watching me from the bar. There was no mistake; the intense gaze from those beautiful hazel eyes- it was James, my ex-husband.

He strolled up casually. "Hello, Laura. It's great to see you again."

I gulped. "Hi James. How've you been?" He was still as good-looking as ever; the freshly pressed black Armani suit he was wearing only further accentuated his height, striking black hair and well-defined jaw line.

"Splendid."

I attempted a smile, encouraged by the enthusiasm in his voice. "So why are you here? I thought you never liked Carmen."

"I don't like the character, no. Carmen is a two-timing Jezebel." He looked at me pointedly before continuing. "The opera overall, however, is amazing."

I glanced at my feet guiltily before raising my eyes to meet his. "I'm sorry." I could never say it enough.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "It happens. But it really is great to see you again." He flashed one of those familiar grins- the ones I never knew that I had missed that much until that moment.

Holmes chose that moment to walk up and place his hand protectively on my arm. It surprised me, but one look at Holmes' face muted any comment I was going to make. He seemed to have something up his sleeve. "Laura."

I was puzzled. He had never called me by my first name- and to my surprise, I actually liked it. Yet his gaze was focused solely on James. What was going on?

James' face contorted with some unreadable emotion before he exerted a control over his features and plastered a smile on his face. "Your date, Laura?"

"James, this is my friend, Mr. Jacob Holmes. Jake, this is my ex-husband, James Watson."

"It's James Moriarty now." James corrected, as he shook Holmes' outstretched hand. He had changed his last name to his mother's maiden name. To him, we were a thing of the past. He obviously had moved on.

I hadn't. I was still deeply in love with him. Seeing him only made my heart ache more.

"Pleasure to meet you, Professor. Your reputation has preceded you."

"And you, Detective." An understanding seemed to pass between them as they exchanged silent looks.

"Do you two know each other?" I had never really talked to Holmes about James- but then again, he was Holmes. He just knew stuff.

            James raised his wine glass to Holmes. "Everyone's heard of the Great Detective."

            Holmes only cocked an eyebrow, bemused. "Of course."

            James then turned to me. "How about lunch Monday? To catch up?" Holmes tightened his grip on my arm.

            I was quite bewildered. The last time I had talked to James, he had only contempt for me. Now, it seemed like he wanted to be friends again. "Sure," I stammered, as I scrawled my phone number on a nearby napkin and handed it to him.

"I'll call you, Laura. It was nice to finally meet you, Detective."

"What was that about?" I asked Holmes as James walked off.

"You tell me." Holmes' lips were compressed in a thin line. He was glaring at me.

"I don't understand."

He shook his head. "We'll talk about this later. Intermission's almost over. Let's head back to our seats."

I knew Holmes had an unusual ability to detach himself from problems completely and be immersed in what he was doing at the moment. This looked like it was one of those times- but I didn't want to put up with it. Seeing James again had thrown me into a weird mood. "Look, first you won't tell me why you dragged me here, and then you- and James act like you're best friends!"

"Hardly."

I shook my head. "Then how do you know him?" I cried.

Holmes gave my arm a deliberate squeeze. "Please, Watson. This is neither the time nor the place."

I noticed my outbursts were drawing the glares of those around us. "Fine, but you are not leaving me tonight without an explanation," I hissed.

Something across the room caught Holmes' attention. He looked slightly panicked. "Can this wait until tomorrow? There's something important that's I need to take care of." He glanced around hurriedly as if he was searching for someone. "In fact, I need to go right now. Here's some cab fare." He placed a folded twenty into my hand and darted out the nearest exit before I could protest.

"I thought our partnership was important," I mumbled to no one in particular. I swallowed my conflicting emotions, forced myself to follow the rest of the herd back into the theater.