Thank you to everyone that has shown interest in this! Means a lot to me.

So, let us continue with Annalise's story, shall we?

Disclaimer: Don't own Sherlock or Criminal Minds (Oh the wicked things I would do to several characters If i did own them), but I do own my baby Annalise

January 2013
17 Years Later

Anna stood to the side of the room, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed in front of her. Her brown eyes scanned the group of reporters, before flickering over to the table- as Detective Inspector Lestrade and Detective Sergeant Donovan sat down. Even an ordinary person could tell that Lestrade looked highly uncomfortable-

"Almost feel sorry for him," Anna thought to herself, "Almost."

"The body of Beth Davenport, Junior Minister for Transport, was found late last night on a building site in Greater London," Donovan started, as Anna looked at the background behind them- where three pictures of the victims were plastered," Preliminary investigations suggest that this was suicide. We can confirm that this apparent suicide closely resembles those of Sir Jeffrey Patterson and James Phillimore. In the light of this, these incidents are now being treated as linked. The investigation is ongoing but Detective Inspector Lestrade will take questions now."

"Detective Inspector, how can suicides be linked?"

"Well, they all took the same poison," Lestrade started, his discomfort only seemingly getting worse," Um, they were all found in places they had no reason to be. None of them had shown any prior indication of-"

"But you can't have serial suicides!"

"Well, apparently you can," Lestrade quipped, a bit of agitation come out.

"These three people- there's nothing that links them?"

"There's no link been found yet, but we're looking for it. There has to be one."

Suddenly, everyone's mobile phones dinged at once, causing everyone to peer at their devices.

"If you've all got texts, please ignore them," Donovan instructed, putting her own mobile down on the table.

"Just says, 'wrong'," one reporter remarked.

"Sherlock," Anna chuckled to herself, peering down at the floor for a moment before returning her attention to the press conference.

"Yeah, well, just ignore that. Okay, if there are no more questions for Detective Inspector Lestrade, I'm going to bring this session to an end," Donovan stated, preparing to stand up.

"But if they're suicides, what are you investigating?"

"As I say, these… suicides are clearly linked. Um, its an… it's an unusual situation. We've got our best people investigating—"

Again, everyone's phones go off—even surprising Anna as she looked to her own mobile.

"Wrong!"

"Says 'wrong' again," A reporter frowned; shaking her head, Anna looked back to the detectives, only to catch Lestrade looking despairingly at Donovan.

"One more question."

"Is there any chance that these are murders, and if they are- is this the work of a serial killer?"

"I.. I know that you like writing about these, but these do appear to be suicides. We know the difference. The, um, the poison was clearly self-administered."

"Yes, but if they are murders- how do people keep themselves safe?"

"Well, don't commit suicide," Lestrade replied- his sass coming through again in his agitation. Anna struggled to hold back her laugh, managing to turn it into a meek cough. She saw Donovan lean over and whisper something to Lestrade, who grimaces before looking to the reporters again.

"Obviously, this is a frightening time for people, but all anyone has to do is exercise reasonable precautions. We are all as safe as we want to be."

Another ding from the Press' mobiles- and Anna didn't even need to see them to know what it said.

"Thank you." Lestrade and Donovan stood up and quickly walked away from the reporters. Pushing herself away from the wall, Anna followed them through the halls of Scotland Yard.

"You've got to stop him doing that. He's making us look like idiots," Donovan said to Lestrade as they walked.

"Well, if you can tell me how he does it, I'll stop him."

"You need to get your freak brother under better control, Holmes," Donovan frowned, as they entered the elevator," You probably know—how's he do it?"

"Right- because I have this absolute control over Sherlock's actions," Anna shot back, slightly glaring at the detective," We all know there is no controlling him- he's his own person. More than like, he doesn't even realize- well, more like he doesn't even care—that he's being utterly unhelpful and problematic. That's Sherlock though. As for how he does it? No clue. Both my brothers are… odd and seemingly 'all knowing'." Anna air quoted that last bit, a bit of annoyance evident in her tone.

0o0o

The next afternoon, Anna was in the midst of running a fingerprint through AFIS when Lestrade burst into the forensics room.

"Holmes!"

"Whatever it is, sir- I didn't do it." Anna muttered, glaring at the computer screen as if to make it find a match. The Detective Inspector made his way over to the brunette, stopping at her desk.

"A fourth."

The simple statement caught her attention, as she looked up from the screen and gazed into Lestrade's brown eyes- her breath catching for a second as she did.

"A- a fourth?" She shook her head to get her composure back," Why come to me though?"

"I… I need your help."

"You want to go to Sherlock," Anna smirked, crossing her arms in front of her," But you don't think he'll play nice."

"Will you help me?"

"Hmm… I dunno."

"Please- Anna," Lestrade pleaded, obvious desperation crossing his face. It pained her to see him like that and try as she might—Anna almost instantly caved—but played it cool.

"Oh very well," she agreed, throwing her hands up in the air in surrender," Those puppy dog eyes of yours- I swear."

"Thank you," Lestrade grinned, and Anna felt her knees go weak; thankfully, she was able to lean down as if she were doing something on the computer to hide it.

"Peters. Keep an eye on this- go to Detective Inspector Hopkins if it finds the print an owner," Anna instructed the other forensics person.

"You're not the boss of me," Peters replied, frowning as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Jus' do as she says!" Lestrade ordered, before hurrying out of the room with Anna right behind him. The car ride to 221 Baker street was spent with Lestrade explaining the fourth victim as Anna overlooked the file.

"Oh, Sherlocks gonna love this," she thought, as they pulled up to the curb and jumped out. Looking up as Lestrade raced into the building, Anna saw Sherlock standing at the window and flashed him a small smile before chasing after Lestrade.

"Brixton. Lauriston Gardens," Lestrade was saying, as Anna made it up the steps.

"What's new about this one? You wouldn't come get me if there wasn't something different," Sherlock mused, appearing uninterested.

"You know how they never leave notes?"

"Yeah."

Anna blocked them out for a moment, peering about the room—seeing Mrs. Hudson, giving her a small smile—and then noticing a new addition. A male.

"Mid-thirties… Military from the haircut… No—stop it. Bloody hell—I blame my brothers," Anna frowned, before hearing them say her name.

"She has another case that she's working- she can't be forensics for this one," Lestrade frowned.

"Anderson won't work with me."

"We'll he won't be your assistant."

"I need an assistant," Sherlock insisted.

"No, no you don't. You think you need an assistant," Anna shook her head," And to you- an Assistant is just a fancy term for someone to drag around town while you show off your deductive skills and try to one-up Scotland Yard."

"Try to?" Sherlock raised a brow.

"Never mind all that—" Lestrade interrupted," Will you come?" Sherlock looked over Lestrade's shoulder, to Anna- who gave him a small smile- a plea that only he heard.

"Not in a police car. I'll be right behind."

"Thank you," Lestrade breathed, relief washing over him. He gave a small nod to the other two in the room before walking out.

"Just switch Anderson cases," Sherlock suggested under his breath to Anna, after Lestrade had left.

"Nope."

"Trip him down the staircase."

"Sherlock!" Anna laughed, shaking her head," Play nice with the others. I'll catch you later." With that, she made her way down the stairs and got into Lestrade's car.

"I'll drop you off back at the Yard, then head over to Brixton."

"Thanks. Do let me know if Sherlock acts up—but don't expect too much. It's Sherlock, after all."

0o0o

"Come on now, Lestrade- seriously?" Anna questioned, sitting on the couch and looking across the room at him. He lounged- rather comfortably- in her brother's chair, as several people seemed to tear apart the kitchen.

"Sorry Anna, but it's his own fault. I need to teach him a lesson." They heard a voice travel around downstairs- both recognizing it as Sherlock's.

"Ah, good. About time he joins us, no?" Lestrade smirked, before asking the group in the kitchen," Find anything?"

"Depends on your definition of 'anything'."

Suddenly, the door flew open and Sherlock barged in- immediately storming over towards Lestrade.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, I knew you'd find the case. I'm not stupid," Lestrade frowned.

"You can't just break into my flat," Sherlock seethed.

"And you can't withhold evidence," Lestrade countered," And I didn't break into your flat."

"Well, what do you call this then?"

Anna watched as Lestrade looked around briefly at his officers, an amused look on his face; with feigned innocence, he quips," It's a drugs bust."

"Seriously?! This guy, a junkie?! Have you met him?!" the other guy questioned. Sherlock turned and walked closer to him.

"John…"

"I'm pretty sure you could search this flat all day, you wouldn't find anything you could call recreational," the man—Anna realizing his name is John—said to Lestrade, looking past Sherlock's shoulder.

"John, you probably want to shut up now."

"Yeah, but come on…" John trailed off, looking into Sherlock's eyes. Their gaze holds for a long moment, before John realizes how serious Sherlock is being.

"No."

"What?"

"You?"

"Shut up," Sherlock frowned, angry at the whole situation. He turned back to Lestrade, who was still lounging in his chair," I'm not your sniffer dog."

"No- Anderson's my sniffer dog," Lestrade joked, nodding towards the kitchen, as the man in question poked his head out from the divider. He raised his hand in a sarcastic greeting, only causing Sherlock to become angrier.

"Anderson- what are you doing here on a drugs bust?"

"Oh, I volunteered," Anderson explained, his voice laced with venom. Anna stood up from the couch and walked over towards where Lestrade and Sherlock were. She saw her brother bite his lip angrily, as he tried desperately to keep his composure.

"They all did. They're not strictly speaking on the drugs squad, but they're very keen."

"Sherlock-" Anna began, before he turned on her.

"You too? Of course—you probably let them in with your key," Sherlock glared.

"I let them in, yes—but I didn't volunteer," Anna told him," When it comes to anything against either of you, I refuse to participate. Lestrade knows this—as do you. So chill." Behind him, Anna could see that John looked all sorts of confused- but before she could say anything to him, Donovan came into view- holding a small glass jar.

"Are these human eyes?"

"Put those back!" Sherlock and Anna exclaimed at the same time, earning looks from John, Lestrade and Donovan.

"They were in the microwave!"

"It's an experiment," Sherlock frowned.

"One he's been working on for almost five months now- so don't muck it up," Anna continued. Donovan shook her head in disgust before disappearing back into the kitchen.

"Keep looking, guys," Lestrade said, standing up," Or you could help us properly and I'll stand them down."

Sherlock began pacing the room angrily, as he muttered," This is childish."

"Well, I'm dealing with a child," Lestrade bit back, as Anna struggled to hide a chuckle- earning a glare from Sherlock," Sherlock- this is our case. I'm letting you in, but you do not go off on your own. Clear?"

Sherlock stopped pacing and glared at Lestrade," Oh, what, so-so-so you set up a pretends drugs bust to bully me?"

"It stops being pretend if they find anything," Lestrade said, putting his hands on his hips.

"I am clean!" Sherlock exclaimed loudly.

"Is your flat—all of it?" Anna asked him.

"I don't even smoke," Sherlock huffed, unbuttoning his left sleeve and pulling it up to show the nicotine patch.

"Neither do I," Lestrade admitted, pulling up his right sleeve and showing a similar patch. Anna caught Sherlock roll his eyes as he turned away and lowered his sleeve.

"So, let's work together. We've found Rachel."

"Who is she?" Sherlock questioned, immediately turning back to Lestrade.

"Jennifer Wilson's only daughter."

"Her daughter?" Sherlock frowned," Why would she writer her daughter's name? Why?"

"Never mind that," Anderson stated, pointing to the obnoxiously pink suitcase in the living room," We found the case. According to someone, the murderer has the case. Here we found it in the hands of our favorite psychopath."

"Sociopath," Anna corrected.

"What?" Anderson questioned, looking at Anna like she was mad.

"I'm not a psychopath, Anderson," Sherlock explained, disparagingly," I'm a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research." He turned back to Lestrade, as Anderson went back to searching the kitchen with a roll of his eyes.

"You need to bring Rachel in. You need to question her. I need to question her."

"We can't do that Sherlock," Anna told him," Rachel's dead."