A/N: Hey guys! I promise this chapter was finished a couple of days ago, but I did not have any internet access, so I couldn't post it before now. Not my fault if you were thinking that I use too much time on the chapters.

Also I've gotten my first review! Thank you and feel free to repeat the action. And to you others; it takes less than five minutes to do it, please, you can spare me that much... If you review you seriously make me want to write more and my day gets ten times the better. Review and it'll be your good deed for the day. Please I'd really appreciate it...

One last thing, I've updated the cover photo. I drew it myself :)

Ar3emis

Meeting the drama queen…

The cab parked inside the warehouse. "John Hamish Watson and Raven Wilson step out of the car and don't do anything stupid," a female voice from outside of the car spoke to them in a bored but commanding tone. He was the first to oblige, then, as the last one left in the backseat, Raven clumsily stumbled out of the car after him. She closed the door and walked over to him with a look of uncertainty on her face.

The woman outside held a Blackberry with both her hands, texting furiously with her thumbs, not even sparing them a glance. The woman had brown hair and was wearing a black, tight dress that revealed a bit more skin than most people thought decent and high heeled shoes matching her dress. The brunette had a jacket on, but it was too thin to give her any actual protection from the biting cold. She wasn't even shivering, though! She must be some kind of robot or superhuman to be able to walk around in so little clothes in this weather. He almost began shuddering just by looking at her.

"Over there," she ordered and nodded towards the centre of the warehouse. The room was square and quite big. The concrete floor had wet spots here and there among the small cracks that covered the ground. Metal pipes in various sizes and colours snaked up and down the walls, some going through walls or the roof. He could feel the moisture in the air as he breathed in. Yellow stripes of light illuminated a path that led towards the middle of the room. John's eyes finally stopped sweeping over the rest of the room and settled ahead of him. In the centre stood a man in a dark-grey three-piece suit, supporting his weight on the black umbrella in his right hand. Why he was carrying an umbrella John couldn't figure out, it hadn't rained since last week and it wasn't supposed to rain today either...

The sound of a motor coming back to life behind him seized his attention and redirected it towards the cab. Andrew Scott- that probably wasn't his real name, which meant the driver's licence also had gotten it wrong, had started the car and the woman with the blackberry sat in the back seat, still texting. Raven and he stood still, watching. John's gaze returned to the man after the car drove away and both he and Raven started walking towards the mysterious man. He had brown, thinning hair and dark eyes colder and muddier than the Thames. The man was taller than him (not that it was very rare) and he had long thin limbs, though his stomach had a slight bulge. The man with the umbrella didn't look very frightening, but there was something about him. The way he stood, the way his face gave away nothing, probably less than nothing. He had this air around him; like no one could touch him, and to be frank, it was creepy.

Raven opened her mouth, addressing the man. "Aren't you going to introduce yourself? Even kidnappers can afford manners." Raven's voice was firm and not the slightest disturbed by what was going on. She nearly sounded...offended? Somehow even in a situation like this she managed to sound like she had some authority over the other man. The man's gaze snapped to Raven and he cocked his head in surprised mock-amusement, like he was pleasantly surprised that she could talk and walk at the same time.

"Drama queens don't introduce themselves on request, Raven. It's not dramatic enough," John said in a low voice, too quiet for the man to hear, but he still received a 'look' from said drama queen as if he had guessed what came out from his mouth. The corner of Raven's mouth quirked upwards and her eyes lit up; the darkness surrounding her retreating for a moment. A warm feeling settled in his chest as he returned the gesture; how easy it was to make someone shine a little brighter in a world made of shadows - consuming everyone and everything, with a couple of shared words.

He turned his head a little, subtly avoiding the man's gaze. Raven was walking at the same pace as him to his right, their shoulders brushing together, uncertainty uniting them as one force instead of splitting them up as the two strangers they were. The muscles in her shoulders had tensed up, and her gait was a little stiffer than earlier. Unlike him her hands were swinging with her stride, not rigid like sticks.

They had almost reached the man when Raven put her hands in her coat-pockets and shivered from the cold.

John met the drama queen's gaze head on as if challenging him and continued to limp closer with grim determination. If they were entering a battle, he would not go down without a fight; Afghanistan knew that and this man would, very soon. Really, who was this man? He had the nerve to practically kidnap two civilians in daylight right off the street without even caring to hide his appearance from them. He wasn't even afraid of being recognised later, as though it wouldn't matter. What did he want from them? The woman knew their names, so this man obviously picked them out; they were not some random people from the street. The kidnapping was planned, but the drama queen could not know that Raven would come as well, could he? He did know her name after all… Could it be the murders that made him kidnap the two of them? But they did not know very much about the case, if it was about that he would have kidnapped Sherlock or maybe that DI - what was his name again… Lestrade? No, it couldn't be about the case, somehow it was connected with Sherlock Holmes, it had to be. This man didn't seem to have sincere intentions either and if the "good guy" could be bloody brilliant then the criminal mastermind probably was as well, right?

He had had a very long and confusing day. Weariness had been his companion for hours now and it was making concentrating a really hard task. He wanted to just go to bed, and stay there for some thousand years or so. He felt like the new player in a game where the rules were unknown to him and for every round that went by he understood less and less.

And now he had had enough.