When I wake, I feel blood streaming from my temple, and a raging headache behind it. I try to take in my surroundings, but my brain takes a few moments to register.

"A book is like a magic garden carried in your pocket," a woman's voice echoes, as I look over and see Sarah with a gag. "Chinese proverb, Ms. Holmes."

"I'm not Sherlock, it's not a girl's name," I try to explain.

"Forgive me if I do not take your word for it." She reaches into my coat and grabs my wallet, which irritates a bruise forming on my rib cage. "Debit card, name of S. Holmes. And a check for five thousand pounds, made out to the name of Sherlock Holmes. Tickets from the theater, collected by you, name of Holmes."

"I realize what this looks like, but I'm not him."

"We heard it from your own mouth. 'I'm Sherlock Holmes and I always work alone.'"

"I just want to help you." She holds a gun to my head, and I panic slightly. Real gun, but she's bluffing, so it's empty.

"I am Shan. Three times we have tried to kill you and your companion, Ms. Holmes. What does it tell you when an assassin cannot shoot straight?"

"They're not really trying." She pulls the gun away and begins to load it. Blanks, she just wants information.

"Correct, Ms. Holmes. If we wanted to kill you, we would have done it by now. We just wanted to make you inquisitive." She motions to her henchmen, and the pull the tarp off an object I recognize as the act from earlier this evening. My heart sinks as I realize what they wanted. "Everything in the West has its price. And the price for her life, information." She motions again, and the two men come over to put Sarah in place.

"Don't worry, I will get you out of here," I call to her as she starts to cry.

"You are sure of that? Where's the hairpin?" Suddenly, it makes sense. The assistant, of course.

"I don't know exactly, but I have an idea!"

"Ideas are not enough. May I have a volunteer from the audience?" She walks over to Sarah, and stabs the bag of sand.

"Please! Let her go, she has nothing to do with this!" I plea, but they don't listen.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, from the distant moonlit shores of NW1, we present for your pleasure, Sherlock Holmes' pretty companion, in a death defying act."

"Let her go!" I try again, struggling against my bonds.

"You've seen the act before, how dull for you. You already know how it ends." I watch Shan place a black lotus on Sarah's lap, and I start to get desperate.

"Whatever he's paying you, I will give you ten-fold if you let her go. I'm not Sherlock Holmes!" She looks to me for a moment.

"I don't believe you."

"She's right, you know," Sherlock says distantly, at the end of the tunnel. "Sherlock Holmes is nothing like her. How would you describe me, Jane? Resourceful? Dynamic? Enigmatic?"

"Late," I respond quietly, watching a henchman run to take him down.

"That's a semi-automatic. If you fire, the bullet will travel at over 1000 meters per second." He comes from the shadows and whips the henchman, making me flinch slightly. "The radius curvature of these walls is nearly four meters, if you miss the bullet will ricochet. Could hit anyone, might even hit you."

"Not if I don't miss," she responds, turning to aim at me. Sherlock knocks down one of the bins and takes out a light, as Shan fires. Luckily, I was correct on my assumption that she was bluffing, and I feel no pain. While Shan is distracted by me, Sherlock begins to untie Sarah. Shan runs away, as the other henchman begins to choke Sherlock. Ignoring my pain, I manage to get to the dart contraption and move it off of Sarah. It goes off, and shoots the henchman in the chest. I sigh heavily and watch Sherlock finish releasing Sarah.

"Don't worry. Next date won't be like this," I tell her, smiling.


We walk out of the tunnel together, Sarah's hand in mine, and find ourselves in the middle of a flock of police cars. Sherlock gets stopped by Dimmock, and they talk for a while. I look over to Sarah, who's still processing what happened.

"I'm so sorry for all of this. I didn't want you to get involved. This life gets to be a bit... much, sometimes," I tell her, squeezing her hand.

"This was the best and worst date of my life," she comments, smiling.

"Should I take that as a compliment?" She smiles wider. "It would have been better without Sherlock."

"Would have been boring, too. Though, I didn't like the third wheeling."

"I'm sorry Sherlock tagged along-"

"I was talking about me." It takes me a moment to realize what she said, my face blank.

"Oh," I say quietly. "But I'm not- We aren't-"

"Doesn't take much to see the chemistry between you two, Jane. Don't worry, I'm not offended." I stare at her as she smiles again, and lets my hand go to hail a cab. I watch her off, and feel Sherlock step up behind me.

"They won't be underground long, they'll come back when we find the missing artifact," he states, straightening his scarf.

"I know just where to look."


The next morning, we make our way to the bank once more. Tension between me and Sherlock hasn't quite cleared, but with the case almost finished I feel some make-up tea in our near future.

"Two operatives based in London," he starts suddenly, without turning to look at me. "They travelled over to Dalian to smuggle those vases. And then one of them helped himself to something."

"The hairpin. Worth nine million pounds," I continue.

"Van Coon was the thief."

"How do you know?" I ask.

"The soap. You?"

"The hairpin itself, actually. Didn't make the connection until Shan held a gun to my head." He looks to me for the first time in a while, and nods. We separate ways, Sherlock goes to retrieve the hairpin as I finish things off with Sebastian. When I walk over, he reaches into his coat and pulls out an envelope.

"He really climbed up on to balcony?" He asks, handing the envelope over to me.

"Trust me. All your worries are over, and business can return to normal," I try to assure him, pocketing the check.

"Listen," Sebastian begins, hesitating. "I appreciate your help. You and Sherlock make a great team."

"Thanks." I smile and look over to Sherlock, who's talking to Van Coon's secretary. She suddenly jumps up and shrieks. He just told her the price of the hairpin. He looks towards me and we make eye contact. He smiles slightly and exits the room, coming into where Sebastian and I are.

"Ready to go?" He asks, looking down to me.

"Ready," I answer, starting towards the door.

"Thanks again, Sherlock," Sebastian calls after us. I can see him mull this response over, but Sherlock turns and nods to him.

"All in a day's work, Seb."


We make our way to the museum, hairpin safely tucked away. Once we enter, we seek out the Museum Director. We find them in the Ancient China exhibit, which is perfect for us.

"Empress Wu Zetian," they begin, as we walk closer. "Only woman to rule Imperial China. This costume is a mock-up of course. She lived fourteen hundred years ago. Nothing of hers has survived."

"You're sure about that?" I ask, a smile on my face.

"You hear rumours. The Chinese are always uncovering new artifacts. Anything of hers would be worth... millions."

"I wonder - could you find a place for this, somewhere in the display?" Sherlock pulls out the hairpin, handing it to the Director. They look at it carefully before gasping, looking up at Sherlock. The Director thanks us profusely before running off to the back room. Sherlock and I look at each other, he nods and begins to walk to the door. I start to follow, before Andy comes running up to me.

"Almost the last thing she said to me," he begins. "You have to look hard at something to see its value. I knew she was a sweet girl. But truly... I never knew how brave she was as well." Suddenly, I get struck with an idea. I reach into my jacket and pull out the check from Sebastian.

"That list of benefactors, on the gallery wall. What sort of donation would I need?" I hand the envelope over to Andy, watching him open it to read the check.

"This would certainly cover it. What name?"

"Three words."

"Of course. Holmes and Watson."

"No, no. Soo Lin Yao." I watch his shoulders fall slightly. "She deserved so much better than what she got. At least, with this donation, she can be remembered for her dedication to her work." He holds out his hand, and I reach to shake it.

"Thank you," he whispers, smiling. I smile back.

"Cheers, Andy." I let go of his hand and turn to catch up with Sherlock.


The flat is quiet when we enter, everything as we left it yesterday. I hang up my coat as Sherlock walks over to the kitchen. He soon returns to drop his coat, an apple wedged between his teeth. I smile slightly before walking over to the desk, glancing down at the photos from the case.

"Over a thousand years old, and it's sitting on her bedside table every night." I break the silence, looking to Sherlock as he comes closer.

"He didn't know its value. Didn't know why they were chasing him."

"Should have just bought her a lucky cat," I joke, earning a small smile. I watch as Sherlock gathers up the papers, shoving them into an empty folder. "You mind, don't you? That General Shan escaped?

"It must be a vast network, Jane. Thousands of operatives. You and I-" he looks up to me, our eyes meeting. "We barely scratched the surface."

"You cracked the code though."

"Yes. But all the smugglers have to do is pick up another book." We stand together for a few moments before Sherlock clears his throat and continues to clear the desk. I move to sit in my arm chair, picking up my laptop. I open up a blank document and begin writing the events from the last few days. "What are you writing?"

"My therapist said to write out the events of the day as a sort of diary, I'm going to post the case on a blog." He looks unamused, but says nothing else. I continue writing as he cleans around me, silence filling the room once more.

"Jane," he starts, drawing my attention from my computer.

"Yes, Sherlock?" I answer, lowering the lid of my laptop and looking to him. He opens his mouth to start speaking, but shakes his head slightly and looks away.

"Did Sarah enjoy the circus? Before everything went to hell, of course."

"I believe she did. She said it was ages since she'd been to the circus." I stand to get a drink from the kitchen. I come back to see Sherlock seated in his chair, hands steepled to his mouth. "So besides the secret Chinese society, it was a pretty good date."

"Hm. So, there will be a second?"

"I don't think so, no." I watch his eyes dart up to me, the rest of his body unmoving. "She's a great girl, but she didn't seem keen on this livelihood. Then she told me that she didn't like the third-wheeling."

"We discussed the reason I was there, it was most likely a one-time thing-"

"Then," I interrupt, setting down my mug of tea. "She said that she was the third wheel." I watch all the color drain from his face. He then quickly stands to face the window, most likely to hide his emotions.

"Well," Sherlock manages to squeak out. I let him stand for a moment, allowing him time to cool down. I step closer, placing a hand softly on his shoulder. His body tenses for a moment, then relaxes as he turns to me. "I never intended to... have these feelings for you, but once I knew you were like me... it made me feel less alone."

"I understand," I tell him, almost in a whisper. "In fact, I think I feel the same." His eyes flicker with hope, a smile threatening to form on his face. He clears his throat.

"Is it alright if... if I kiss you?" I nod slightly, leaning forward. Through hooded eyes, I watch him lean down, hovering centimeters from my lips almost in hesitation. Then he meets me in a light kiss, as if he was unsure what to do next. I feel him place his hands softly on my waist, and I wrap my arms behind his head. I pull him closer, deepening our embrace. He moves his hands upwards slightly and irritates my forming bruise, making me cringe away in pain. He immediately stops, pulling his hands away. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I just have a bruise on my ribs from the Black Lotus. They aren't very gentle," I joke. "Don't worry, you didn't hurt me."

"Perhaps we should-" he trails off, eyes glancing over my face. He clears his throat. "Have dinner. Are you hungry?"

"I could eat." He quickly separates from me and exits to the kitchen. So much for that moment. I can't seem to catch a break today. I follow him, stopping to lean on the doorway.

"We have nothing in, I'll order take-out," he states, pulling out his phone. I watch his movements, swift and sloppy. He briefly looks up and I notice his pale cheeks are now rosy pink. Is he...embarrassed?

"Sherlock," I start, making him look down at his phone again. "Whenever you're ready to talk, I will be too. And being embarrassed about this kind of thing is completely normal, you're human. Sometimes I think you forget that." He takes a moment to breathe before looking up to me.

"Thank you, Jane." I give him one more smile before returning to the living room, sitting down to return to my blog post. Suddenly, an intrusive thought hits me. You haven't heard from Jim in a while. He must be up to something. I shake my head to snuff out that thought, and continue to finish up my entry.

"All these people he involves in his adventures... They're not safe. We're not safe. There are forces out there and they're coming for Sherlock Holmes."