Disclaimer: Sherlock Holmes and related characters are not puppets of my possession…::sigh::

A/N: I do seem to be getting worse with the review time, don't I? Sorry, guys, but Real Life is getting in the way of story-writing, what with 3 major projects coming up in the next two weeks or so… Hopefully the slightly longer lengths of the chapters will make up for the time gaps between instalments. Anyways, thanks again to all of those who reviewed; hopefully this chapter will convince you that Holmes isn't completely off his rocker, yet…Now, without further ado, here's Chapter 4!

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Chapter 4-

I found myself reeling with anger as I strode down Baker Street, now empty of the bustling crowds at this late hour, for the second time on this accursed evening. The storm was still blowing with as much icy vigour as it had for the past few hours, showing no signs of relenting any time soon. Bitterly cold blasts of snow flurries penetrated my heavy coat, the only protection I had, and bit sharply at my skin and very bone.

The weather did little to douse my lingering flame of resentment at Watson, my so-called Boswell. 'What gives him the right to call me crazy and order me around?!' I thought furiously, scowling into the deserted darkness. 'He doesn't understand anything!'

'He doesn't understand because you won't tell him' my logical side countered. 'He's trying to help you and you've pushed him away.'

"No!" I found myself saying aloud with a firmness that surprised me.

There was no need for him to know, I finally convinced myself silently, continuing down Oxford Street. 'Every time I have to do this…' I thought as I heaved a sigh, my breath making billows of mist that swirled in the wind.

Turning the corner into one of the many dark, winding alleys that made the labyrinth of London, I suddenly halted as the distant echoes of footsteps caught my sensitive ear. The sounds stopped as soon as I had, and I peered around, pretending to be searching for the right turn of the street. 'This makes things a little more interesting,' I mused with a grim smile.

I continued down the crooked alleyway, before making a sudden right into an arcade, my new shadow tailing me all the while. After countless turns and backtrackings, I arrived at a small pub, so dingy that there wasn't even a sign hanging above the cracked and chipped door.

I stepped in, glad for the radiating warmth that exuded from the four walls of the small, fire-lit room, and made my way to the bartender stand, ignoring the awkward stares of those around me.

"Evenin', guv'," the bald bartender called as he smiled, showing a row of blackened and missing teeth. "Usual, I s'ppose?"

"Not tonight," I answered curtly. "I'll just have a whiskey, thanks."

The man caught my eye for an instant, before saying, "Right, you are then, guv'. I've got just the thing that'll suit your tastes."

I nodded my thanks as the bartender shuffled into his back storage room, and turned, peering around at the co-inhabitants of this room. Most of them had returned to their alcohol and their previous conversations, but I knew that my shadow had entered with me.

He was loitering in the corner by the door with his chin on his chest, puffing half-heartedly at a pipe. He'd donned a wide-brimmed hat atop a mane of dark, grizzly hair which effectively hid the features of his gaunt face. A black, flowing cloak of coarse cloth covered his tall figure, concealing his muscular frame that was evident only from the width of his shoulders. As I continued to scrutinize him with my peripheral vision, the man shifted, and his sleeve slid down to bare his arm for a moment, revealing to me a singular mark on his wrist. 'A man from Omega, then,' I reflected to myself, turning back to the table before me.

My drink was soon brought to me, carried by the scruffily dressed head of my Baker Street Irregulars, Sam Wiggins. "Will that be all for you, guv'?" He asked without betraying any signs of recognition as he placed the drink on the table.

I picked up the glass and swirled it around once, before quickly tapping out the Morse Code for "Lion Sq" on the water-condensed side. "No, that'll be all, thank you."

Wiggins nodded in assent as I paid him for the drink, and disappeared as quickly as he had come. 'That boy is smarter than he knows,' I mused with a soft chuckle as I enjoyed the fiery liquid rolling down my slightly parched throat.

I finished my drink at a leisurely pace before sneaking a glance at my pocket watch. 'I'd best be going,' I thought to myself as I glanced at the hands pointing firmly at 11 and 6, and surreptitiously made my way back out of the pub. My shadow had apparently already left the building, and I found him lurking in the darkness as the light from the pub reflected from his eyes.

The snow had still not let up, so upon arriving on the nearest main street, I hailed the nearest hansom with a shrill whistle.

'At least I have a plan,' I contemplated as I stared out at the bright orbs of lamplight whirling by. 'Wiggins will work in much less public circles than Watson, and he knows what he's doing. He will not miss this summons.'

I stopped a few streets before Trafalgar Square, making the rest of the way on foot to calm my nerves. So many things could go wrong in such situation. What if Wiggins got caught? What if Moran didn't not hold up his side of the bargain?

'How else am I to discover the location of their headquarters by midnight without exciting Moran's suspicion?' I thought furiously. 'Moran knows the value of the cards he holds, and he won't be afraid to play mercilessly. If I make any mistake in this, Mycroft will surely be the one who will feel its effects the most.'

Trafalgar square was empty of both people and pigeons as I sauntered towards the sculpture in the centre with a light tread. The blizzard, though beginning to wane, still provided ample cover for all the players in tonight's scene. Brushing the snowflakes off my shoulders, I took an opportunity to glance around at the empty surroundings. I seemed to have lost my shadow, as I couldn't see him lurking in any of the branching side streets. As I made my way to the other side of the square, I spotted the loping form of a dingy terrier as it sniffed around for a scrap of food. 'Good, the boys are here,' I thought with a small smile of relief, watching Baker Street Irregular Charlie Odgeon's dog disappear once again into the darkness. Returning to the central statue, I waited for Omega under the metallic paw of the giant, majestic lion.

***

The distant chime of bells struck the midnight hour, and still no one had come with the ushering of the new day. I stepped out of the shadows briefly and surveyed the square. The storm clouds had parted slightly, allowing the pale face of the full moon to shine its silver shafts of light over the empty paved and cobbled streets. Nothing could be seen stirring in the dark and swirling abyss. My only companion seemed to be the whirling snowflakes that had lost their previous ferocity; they opted instead to drift gently down as a thousand feathers bursting from a down pillow.

Heaving a heavy sigh, I was about to return to my shelter underneath the giant metallic beast when the slightly muffled sound of footsteps reached my ears once again. The steps, irregular and shuffled with an unsteadiness that betrayed the mark of age, were interspersed with the hollow tap of wood. As I craned my neck toward the noise, a small, cloaked figure, bent and huddling on the long crooked shaft of a wooden staff, came into view illuminated by a flickering streetlamp. The figure hobbled onward in my direction, seemingly oblivious to my presence as she hummed a quiet tune with a feminine voice. I stepped back into the shadows once again as she neared, when suddenly, the elderly woman tripped with a groan and collapsed into a trembling heap.

My morals got the better of me as I emerged from my hiding spot and approached the old lady with the intention of helping her back to her feet, ignoring any thoughts of suspicion.

"Are you all right, Madam?" I asked politely once she had both hands firmly attached to her staff once more.

To my utter surprise, the woman swiftly straightened her back so that her hooded face was almost level with mine "Yes, thank you Mr. Holmes," she said in a strong voice of youthful vigour.

My eyes widened with realisation at the trap, and at the sound of a muffled yell, I whirled around just in time to dodge the heavy fist hurtling furiously towards me.

'No,' I thought desperately as I caught sight of Odgeon's struggling form, squirming and writhing under my former shadow's grasp.

Putting my boxing skills to good use, I returned the Omega member's punch with swift left-jab in the stomach and an elbow to the shoulder, before swinging a well aimed upper cut at his jaw to successfully bring the man to the ground with a thud, causing him release his catch.

"RUN!" I cried and watched with relief as the boy scampered away with a cat's agility, disappearing into the snowy night. 'At least they'll never be able to catch him now.'

Just as I was readying myself for a second bout against the rising man before me, I felt a sharp crack of pain blossoming from the nape of my neck, sending the ground flying up to meet me. 'Always watch your back,' I reprimanded myself before all faded to darkness.