AN: As always, anything that reminds you of ACD's stuff is ACD's stuff. Much thanks to my reviewer, A.Spencer- thanks for making me feel better about this story. Oh, and snowwolf, if you're reading this, the stuff on the gravestone will be answered later in this story…  ENJOY!

Chapter 4

The rest of the opera was probably really good. I wouldn't know. I was too preoccupied about what had just happened, too frustrated at my inability to comprehend what actually happened, and too nervous about my upcoming lunch with James, and too ticked off at Holmes, to really enjoy the second half. In fact, it took all my self-control to not bolt out of the Pavilion cursing in the middle of the act. That would have pissed off the rest of the audience.

When the opera was over, I headed toward the nearest telephone with every intention to call a cab. But a tap on my shoulder made me whirl around. I could feel my expression softening when I saw him. It was James.

"Hey." I tried to smile, but only managed a nervous half-twitch.

"What's wrong, Laura?"

He always seemed to know. "I need to call a cab," I blurted out, relieved that someone was listening to me for the first time this night.

James cocked an eyebrow. "Mr. Holmes left you here? That's not very polite."

"It was something important," I offered weakly in Holmes' defense. 

"I'm sure it was," James remarked. "Now, how about I give you a ride home?"

I shook my head furiously. "No, it's ok. I can get myself home. Besides, it's probably really out of your way and I don't want to interfere with your date," I rambled, trying to think of any excuse.

"I'm here by myself, don't worry. I insist. Please."

I couldn't refuse him. "Ok," I whispered.

He smiled. "Come on, my driver's waiting."

Driver? And then I noticed he was guiding me to a nearby black Cadillac, complete with a driver holding the door open.

I sucked in my breath as I scooted into the car, a bit overwhelmed by the new leather smell. This was incredible. In five minutes I had gone from having no ride to living the good life; just being with James again was intoxicating, and I couldn't think straight.

"So, Laura, now that it's just the two of us, how have you really been lately?" James asked after I had told his driver the directions to my apartment.

"It's been all right. I've taken a job at the medical examiner's office."

He nodded. "Yes, I've heard you've been doing quite well.

I shifted the questioning. "How about you?" Since our divorce, it seemed (judging by tonight anyway) that he was the one leading the interesting life.

He grinned. "Things have been running smoothly lately."

Of course things would be great without me around to screw him over. "That's great!"

"So, if you don't mind me asking, how did you and Mr. Holmes ever meet up?"

I smiled, relaying the events that led to our partnership starting with that one particular Tuesday night. James seemed quite interested in the story, laughing heartedly at all hilarious points, grimacing appropriately at the horrors of the crimes Holmes and I had come across in the last three months. The only thing I found slightly troubling was his unmistakable pleasure that Dr. Austin Reingold- my old flame- had killed himself. But then again, given that I had cheated on James with the doctor- I didn't blame James for having his reaction in the least.

Our conversation was then interrupted by James' cell phone.

"Moriarty."

James paused. "What do you mean, he's not taken care of?" Another pause. "Yes, please, leave that nosy son of a bitch to me, I'll personally take care of it."

He must have made some enemies since I left, I figured, a bit concerned about the venom in his voice.

I watched as James' lips curled into a smile. "Very good work, Jack. Yes, he'll turn up eventually. And check all the ERs within a 15 mile radius; they can't have gotten too far. All right, keep me updated. " He snapped the phone shut and then turned back to me.

"Sorry about that Laura. Work never ends, you know."

I smiled, remembering how just how hard-working he was. So hard-working he forgot about me sometimes. "Yeah. Don't kill yourself, all right?"

He shook his head. "Don't worry about me, Laura. I'll come out on top, as usual."

I chuckled. Same old James. "I know."

"By the way, I don't know if I've said anything tonight, but you look absolutely fantastic."

My cheeks flushed a deep crimson (to match my dress, I suppose). "Thanks," I managed to squeak out, pretending that I was engrossed in the passing scenery. We were nearing my apartment building.

James placed his hand on mine. "So we're agreed on Monday lunch?"

I felt myself tremble at his touch. Did he still care- about me? Did he finally forgive me? I nodded, unable to say anything coherent.

The driver pulled up to the curb and stopped the car.

I never realized how much I missed him until we had pulled up to my apartment. I definitely did not want to leave.

"How about at McCormick and Schmik's? I'll be at the bar at noon." He leaned over and gave me a small peck on the cheek.

 I almost fainted. "Sure. Thanks for the ride. And, uh, have a good night," I stammered, blushing harder.  

I got out of the car, waved, and headed into my apartment building, pleasantly surprised that this evening turned out quite well after all. Oh, who was I kidding… I was on cloud nine. Or ten.