AN: ACD owns stuff.


Chapter 3

So Holmes was after his brother's murderer. But the situation seemed futile, senseless; Carl Sebastian was under US Marshal protection and in the federal witness protection program. Sebastian was basically untouchable.

Yet here was Holmes, still trying to track him down after all these years. As I listened to Brian tell the story, I had to admire Holmes' determination, a quality quite useful to his detective work. But at the same time, I also began to worry: this was unlike any other case I had worked with Holmes on. This time, Holmes was taking this personally.

I gasped inadvertently, as it finally dawned on me where I remembered the name Jason Holmes from. It was the very first case where I had collaborated with Holmes, and we had visited a cemetery- the very cemetery where Jason was buried. Jason Holmes. His brother's keeper.

"Laura?" Brian's voice cut deep in my thoughts. "You all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I was just thinking," I hastily answered.

"About Jake?"

I nodded. "I've never seen him like this."

Brian sighed. "Gary and I debated for all day yesterday whether or not to tell him about Sebastian. But I felt that we owed it to him, hoping it might bring him some closure. After tonight, though, it seems unlikely. I can't have Jake running back to New Orleans to avenge his brother by killing Sebastian. You'll watch out for him, won't you?"

"I already do." I grimaced, thinking back to our most recent case- Moriarty. It seemed like I might be taking another vacation. I crossed my fingers, hoping that Holmes might suffer a momentary bout of amnesia. Highly unlikely.

Brian laughed again, throwing his arm around my shoulders, giving me an amiable squeeze. "Yeah, you do, don't you? So tell me, how did you and Holmes catch Moriarty anyway? I heard it was a difficult case."


"I suppose Brian gave you the spiel on Sebastian." Holmes voice was grating, tinged with pain. He was staring out the window while I wove deftly through the nearly empty downtown streets. We had bid goodbye to Brian and Gary shortly before, as Gary had become rather irked at losing four straight games of pool and wanted to call it a night.

"Yeah."

Holmes was still staring out the passenger window. "Then you know why I have to go."

"I don't think it's a good idea," I ventured, knowing that I'd be catching hell for questioning his judgment.

He laughed bitterly. "Brian has you conspiring against me. Did he tell you to watch out for me?"

I nodded, my face a bit red at the mention of the attractive FBI agent. Brian had asked for my number before Holmes and Gary returned to the table, mumbling something about needing to check up on Holmes. I suspected a different motive, but I was immensely flattered anyway, and gave him both my home and cell phone numbers.

"But you know I'm going."

He could always be so stubborn. "But what are you going to do when you find Sebastian? Do you even know?"

Holmes didn't reply.

I drove on.


"I'll see you around, I guess," I said to Holmes as I stopped my car in front of his house.

Holmes shook his head. "Highly unlikely. I'm going to be gone for a very long time."

"I mean, after you get back from New Orleans." I watched his features carefully.

"I might not come back," he said deliberately, avoiding my eyes. This was the first time I ever heard the slightest note of uncertainty in his voice, and it unnerved me. This was not the Holmes I knew.

I froze momentarily before blurting out, "Then I'm coming with you." The urgency in my reply took Holmes (and myself) by surprise. Did I really care for this eccentric man so much that I'd go with him to track his brother's murderer? I had no idea what Holmes had in mind. Not to mention I'd be using my hard-earned sick days for what could be characterized as a cross-country revenge plot. But I trusted Holmes implicitly, and this, more than any other time, seemed like a situation where he needed someone.

Holmes' eyes narrowed. "Absolutely not. This is none of your business."

I shook my head furiously. "You're my friend, so that makes this my business. If you're going to New Orleans, I'm coming with you. I won't let you go by yourself."

"No. You're not coming." His tone suggested that it was futile to argue with him.

I, however, was in no mood to acquiesce. "Either you let me come with you and help you, or I'll get on the plane myself and follow you there. Your choice."

"You're not leaving me much of a choice," he remarked dryly.

I shrugged my shoulders innocently. "Just let me help you."

Holmes took a deep breath. "All right. But you need to promise me this."

"What is it?"

"Promise me that you won't get in the middle of Sebastian and me." He raised his hand to silence my protests. "Promise me, Watson. Otherwise, you'll just have to follow me there. New Orleans is an old stomping ground of mine, so I seriously doubt you'll be able to find me as easily as you did in San Francisco."

I sighed. "Okay."

Holmes opened the door and got out. "Go home, pack for two weeks, and meet me back here in three hours. I'll have a plan by then." With that, he slammed the car door and scurried up his long driveway.


AN: Thanks to Kittenchatter, komikitty, snowwolf for your encouragement! I know these chapters are short, but I'm updating rather frequently… as far as Holmes turning all vigilante… well, we'll see about that, won't we ;)