Chapter Five-

By the time John had made it down the stairs and had taken the suit off, it was clear the Sherlock was long gone when he looked for him as he limped out of the house. John shook his head and gave a small laugh, Sherlock was just like an over excited boy forgetting everything else besides his new toy. It was adorable. John began to limp towards the tape intending to find a taxi and get home to wait for Sherlock to get back.

"He's gone." Donovan told him with pity in her voice.

"Who, Sherlock Holmes? Yeah, I can see that." John told her.

"He just took off. He does that." The Beta told him.

"I'm guessing he won't be back." John said in understanding.

"Didn't look like it." She told him with a smirk, looking as if Sherlock had just proven a point. John rolled his eyes and walked past her and under the tape and began to walk away looking for any taxi he could hail. "You're not his friend." Donovan called out to him making him stop. "He doesn't have friends." John turn to glare at him. "So who are you?"

"I'm his friend." John growled at her causing her to roll her eyes.

"A bit of advice then. Stay away from that guy." Donovan told him.

"Why, because you don't like him?" John snapped, this woman was asking to get punched. He might not have known Sherlock very long, but he could tell that the Alpha was a decent guy, a bit eccentric and probably slightly childish, but still a decent guy.

"You know why he's here?" Donovan asked with a condescending look. "He's not paid or anything. He likes it. He gets off on it. The weirder the crime, the more he gets off. And you know what? One day just showing up won't be enough. One day we'll be standing round a body and Sherlock Holmes will be the one that put it there."

"And why would he do that?" John asked quietly.

"Because he's a psychopath." Donovan told him. "Psychopaths get bored."

"Donovan!" The Inspector called her.

"Coming!" She called back. "Stay away from Sherlock Holmes." She told him before jogging into the house. John staid standing there trying to wrap his mind around what the Beta had just told him. Should he believe her or not? It was clear that the Beta hated Sherlock with a passion, as did Anderson. But the Detective Inspector really wouldn't have allowed Sherlock into the crime scene if he wasn't a decent person. He would stay by Sherlock and decide for himself if he wanted to stay with him or not.

With his mind made up, John turned and began to limp down the street walking past a ringing phone booth. He ignored it and walked to the main street where he began to try and hail a taxi, it wasn't until the phone in the restaurant next to him rang and hung up before and employee could answer that John began to feel as if he were being watched. Cautiously, John continued walking until he passed by yet another ringing phone booth. Hesitating, John slowly entered the phone booth and answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"There is a security camera on the building to your left." A man said over the phone. "Do you see it?"

"Who's this? Who's speaking?" John asked wondering if the person had mistaken him for someone else.

"Do you see the camera, Dr Watson?" The man asked again, letting John know the man knew exactly who he was talking to. John looked around and spotted the camera the man was talking about.

"Yeah, I see it." John said.

"Watch..." The man said and the camera turned away from him. "There is another camera on the building opposite you. Do you see it?" John instantly searched the camera out. Someone was either playing with him or trying to prove a point. The second John has spotted the camera, it too was moved to point away from him. "And finally, at the top of the building on your right." John turned around and spotted the camera just before it, too, was turned. He got the point. Who ever was on the other end of the phone had connections, powerful connections.

"I get your message." John told him.

"Get into the car, Dr Watson." The man said before hanging up as a black car with tented windows pulled up in front of him and a man got out and opened the door. John sighed and limped out of the phone booth and into the car where a woman with shoulder length curly brown hair sat typing away on a blackberry. John took a deep breath to get her scent, but she was smart enough to be using scent blockers and odorless products to cover her scent. John couldn't even tell if she was an Alpha, Beta, or an Omega. Once he was in the car, the man shut the door before taking off.

"Hello." John said to the woman honestly not expecting her to replay.

"Hi." She said looking up from her blackberry to glance at him before going back to her blackberry.

"What's your name then?" John asked curious to see if she'll give out her real name or not.

"Uh... Anthea." She said, obviously a fake name.

"That's not your real name, is it." John said with a smirk receiving one back from 'Anthea'.

"No." She said.

"I'm sure you know my name." John said sitting back.

"Yes, John." Anthea said with a smirk, proving him right.

"I'm guessing there's no point in asking where I'm going." John said.

"I can see why he's interested in you." Anthea said making John wonder who was interested in him. The mysterious phone caller?

"Okay." John said knowing that none of the questions he had piling up would be answered. The drive to where ever they were going was a good 15 to 20 minutes long, and when they pulled into what seemed to be a recently abandoned factory (or maybe this mysterious phone caller was just that powerful to have a factory emptied out for tonight), John military training kicked in. As soon as he was allowed out of the car, John's eyes focused on the nicely dress man standing in front of the car while casually leaning on an umbrella. Was he about to finally meet the Mysterious caller? John squared his shoulders and limped over to the man.

"Have a seat, John." The man said pointing towards a chair that was waiting for him. John ignored the man's request (order) and remained standing, he would rather not allow the man the upper hand.

"You know, I've got a phone." John told the man who, after taking a deep breath, John realized was also hiding his scent. "I mean, very clever and all that, but uh... You could just phone me. On my phone."

"When one is avoiding the attention of Sherlock Holmes, one learns to be discreet, hence this place." The man said and John scoffed. Right, very discreet. "Your leg must be hurting you. Sit down." The man ordered.

"I'd rather stand, thank you." John told him in mock politeness.

"You don't seem very afraid." The man pointed out with a smirk.

"Should I be? You don't seem very frightening." John challenged causing the man to give a small laugh.

"Yes." The man drawled out in a slight purr, John's hackles rose when he caught the mockery undertone. "The bravery of the soldier. Bravery is by far the kindest word for stupidity, don't you think? What is your connection to Sherlock Holmes?"

"There is no connection. I just met him yesterday." John said.

"Yet, since yesterday you've moved in with him and now you're solving crimes together." The man said giving him a hard look as he checked him up and down. "Might we expect a happy announcement by the end of the week?" John grip on his cane tightened as he fought the urge to hit the man with it. How dare the man insinuate that John was trying to force Sherlock into mating him! He was broken and useless, and Sherlock was not looking for a Mate!

"Who are you?" John growled out.

"An interested party." The man told him.

"Interested in Sherlock? Why?" John demanded. "You clearly aren't his friend."

"You've met him. How many friends do you imagine he has?" The man asked with a smirk. "I'm the closest thing to a friend that Sherlock Holmes is capable of having."

"And what's that?" John asked.

"An enemy." The man told him.

"An enemy?" John repeated instantly guarded. This man was Sherlock's enemy? If that was true then what did he plan to do with John? Did he believe that kidnapping and/or hurting John would hurt Sherlock?

"In his mind, certainly. If you were to ask him, he'd probably say his arch-enemy. He does love to be dramatic." The man said getting a far off look to his eyes. John looked around the room dramatically.

"Well, thank God you're above all that." John snapped out. The man gave him a hard, reprimanding look a second before John's phone signaled he had a message. Without thought, John pulled the phone out and checked the message, sending his own silent message to the man that John didn't see him as much of a threat.

Baker Street.
Come at once
if convenient.

SH

"I hope I'm not distracting you." The man said.

"Maybe a little." John told him never looking up from the phone as he wondered how Sherlock had gotten his number.

"Do you plan to continue your association with Sherlock Holmes?" The man asked in a tone that had John looking at him.

"I could be wrong, but I think that's none of your business." John snapped out receiving an amused look from the man.

"It could be." The man said.

"It really couldn't." John said firmly. The man sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small notebook.

"If you do move into, um... 221B Baker Street," He read from the notebook, I'd be happy to pay you a meaningful sum of money on a regular basis to ease your way." That pissed John off. Who did this man thank he was? Did he really expect John to spy on Sherlock? A thought suddenly hit him. How many new acquaintance had this man kidnapped and offer money for them to spy on Sherlock? How many had actually taken the offer?

"You want to pay me to spy on Sherlock?" John demanded angrily.

"Nothing indiscreet. Nothing you'd feel... uncomfortable with. Just tell me what he's up to." The man soothed.

"Why?" John growled out.

"I worry about him. Constantly." The man said and John scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"That's nice of you." John said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"But I would prefer for various reasons that my concern go unmentioned." The man told him. "We have what you might call a... Difficult relationship." John's phone chimed once more and John looked at the message.

If inconvenient,
come anyway.

SH

"No." John told the man who honestly seemed shocked.

"But I haven't mentioned a figure." The man said.

"Don't bother." John told him causing the man to chuckle amusingly.

"You're very loyal very quickly." He pointed out.

"I guess that's the soldier in me." John snapped out. The man gave him a hard look before sighing in annoyance as he pulled his little notebook back out.

"'Trust issues,' it says here." He read out and John paled. Had this man somehow gotten a hold of his confidential therapy notes? How much did this man know about him?

"What's that?" John asked hating how small his voice had suddenly become.

"Could it be that you've decided to trust Sherlock Holmes of all people?" The man asked as he casually flipped through the pages of his notebook while keeping it at an angle so that John couldn't read it.

"Who says I trust him?" John asked.

"You don't seem the kind to make friends easily. Not after what happened to you in the war." The man said lazily and John took in a hard breath as the walls began to try and close in around them.

"Are we done?" John growled out.

"You tell me." The man said looking up at him from the book with a dark look in his eyes. John glared at him before turning around and started heading back towards the car. He was done. He wanted nothing more to do with this man. And the next time he saw the man, he would get a face full of cane. "I imagine people have already warned you to stay away form him, but I can see from your left hand that's not going to happen." John stopped at that and flexed his left hand. What about his hand?

"My what?" John growled out threateningly as he turned to glare at the man.

"Show me." The man ordered. The two stood in tense silence as John battled himself. He wanted to know what the hell the man was talking about but at the same time he wanted to leave. Finally, John held up his left hand. The man walked closer and reached out to touch it and John growled and snapped at him. The man gave him a reprimanding look before gently taking a hold of John's hand. "Remarkable." He said with a smirk as he let John's hand go.

"What is?" John demanded.

"Most people blunder round this city, and all they see are streets and shops and cars. When you walk with Sherlock Holmes, you see the battlefield. You've seen it already. Haven't you?" The man asked.

"What's wrong with my hand?" John demanded.

"You have an intermittent tremor in you left hand. Your therapist thinks it's post-traumatic stress disorder. She thinks you're haunted by memories of your military service." The man said.

"Who the hell are you?" John growled out tightening his grip on his cane. "How do you know that?"

"Fire her." The man ordered. "She's got it the wrong way round. You're under stress right now and your hand is perfectly steady. You're not haunted by the war, Dr Watson... You miss it." The man moved so that his mouth was right next to John's ear. "Welcome back." He whispered before be backed up and walked away as John's phone chimed one last time. "Time to choose a side, Dr Watson."

"I'm to take you home." Anthea said stepping out of the car. John sighed and pulled out his phone to read his message that was no doubt from Sherlock.

Could be dangerous

SH

"Address?" Anthea asked after John had put his phone away and checked his hand.

"Uh, Baker Street. 221B Baker Street. But I need to stop off somewhere first." John told Anthea as he limped back to the car.