Disclaimer: Same as Chapter 1

Chapter 6: The Woman

In the two months that had passed since confronting Moriarty, Percy threw himself back into working with a vengeance - desperate, perhaps, to reclaim some of that excitement he'd felt whilst duelling with his newfound nemesis – or perhaps he was trying to track down his nemeses' movements through the crimes perpetrated throughout the city. If that was the case, he was to be disappointed – Moriarty seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth. John was happy for the most part with Percy's renewed drive, as his blog received more and more traffic as time went by, providing them both with an increased source of income. One thing that he was most definitely not happy about however, was Percy's insistence on remaining within the flat for any cases that he deemed too menial, while he sent out John with a Skype-enabled laptop to examine the crime scene remotely. It was during one such case Percy found himself unceremoniously 'invited' to Buckingham Palace – which is to say, he was dragged kicking and screaming from 221B.

John did a double-take as he was escorted inside the meeting room. Seated on a cream sofa was Percy, petulantly naked save for a plain white sheet wrapped around him, pointedly ignoring the clothes and shoes lying on the small table in front of him. What the hell is happening? he gestured at Percy.

Who knows?, Percy shrugged back. John nodded – he seemed to be doing that a lot these days, he realised. He walked toward, casually gazing around the opulent room, before seating himself next to his friend, settling into a comfortable silence.

After a few minutes though, even his exceptional capacity for patience was exhausted: 'Are you wearing any pants?'

'Nope,' Sherlock smirked, popping out the 'p' cheerfully.

'OK.'

For a moment, they settled back into amiable silence, before starting to chortle at the sheer ludicrousness of the entire situation.

Percy, what are we doing here? Seriously, what?, John beamed to his friend.

My dear Watson, I haven't the foggiest, Percy admitted.

'Are we here to see the Queen?' John pondered out loud.

'Oh, apparently yes,' Sherlock grinned, having caught sight of Mycroft entering the room; the two of them fell into another set of giggles, whilst Mycroft simply sighed in exasperation.

'Just once, can you two behave like grown-ups?' the elder Holmes drawled out.

'We solve crimes, I blog about it, and he forgets his pants, so I wouldn't hold out too much hope' John commented.

Mycroft tactfully decided to ignore that remark, instead offering Percy his clothes. Percy raised an elegant eyebrow. Whatever are those for?, he seemed to be asking. Mycroft sighed in exasperation and tossed the clothes onto his adopted sibling's lap.

'We are in Buckingham Palace, the very heart of the British nation. Sherlock Holmes, put your trousers on,' he hissed out towards the end.

Again, that mocking eyebrow.

'For your client' Mycroft ground out.

'Who is?' Percy demanded, drawing himself up to his full height.

'Illustrious in the extreme, I can assure you' a palace official interrupted as he strode into the room. 'Mycroft!', he exclaimed in surprise, and moved over to shake his hand cordially.

'Harry! May I just apologise for the state of my little brother?' Mycroft rejoindered.

'It's a full-time occupation I imagine' Harry replied, glancing at Percy condescendingly. Percy scowled and curled his lip at the man to show him just how much his opinion meant to him.

'Mycroft, I'm afraid that I don't do anonymous clients. Good day,' Percy said, stretching his lips about a centimetre in what could barely be considered a smile. As he began making his way out however, Mycroft stepped onto the trailing edge of sheet. Together with his forward motion, the sheet began slipping off of Percy's body, though he managed to hold onto the edge before his modesty was compromised.

'This is a matter of national importance. Grow up!' Mycroft growled out.

Now more furious than annoyed, Percy seethed through gritted teeth 'Get. Off. My. Sheet.'

'Or what?'

'Or I'll just walk away.'

'I'll let you' Mycroft countered.

'Boys, please, not here,' John interjected.

'Who. Is. My. Client?' Percy almost shrieked out, near incandescent with rage.

'Take a look at where we are and make a deduction' Mycroft snarled out. 'You are to be engaged by the highest authority in the land – now for god's sake, put your clothes on!'

-Some time later-

'What do you know about this woman?' Mycroft probed as he passed Percy a set of pictures, all of them featuring a beautiful woman, some in rather compromising positions.

'Nothing whatsoever,' Percy admitted as he pointedly checked his watch.

'Then you should be paying more attention, brother mine' the elder Holmes reprimanded. 'She's recently been at the centre of two political scandals in the last year, and recently ended the marriage of a prominent novelist by having an affair with both participants separately.'

'Yes, yes, do skip the trivia and get to the important bit, if you wouldn't mind' Percy said dryly. 'Who is she, and why is she of concern?'

'Her name is Irene Adler; professionally, she is known as "The Woman"' Mycroft informed him.

'Professionally?' John interjected.

'There are many names for what she does. She prefers "dominatrix" ' Mycroft clarified.

'Dominatrix' Percy deadpanned.

'Don't be alarmed. It's to do with sex' Mycroft snarked.

'Sex doesn't alarm me.'

'How would you know?'

An uncomfortable silence descended as the two 'brothers' stared at each other. John shifted uneasily and cleared his throat loudly. 'Right, then. So obviously, she has some compromising photographs?'

'A considerable number, apparently, featuring herself and a young female person' Mycroft admitted.

'And I assume in a number of compromising scenarios?' Percy interrupted.

'An…imaginative range, we are assured' Mycroft stated, his sheer distaste at the entire situation evident by his curled lips.

'Can you help us, Mr Holmes? Will you take this case?' Harry queried.

'Case? What case? As Ms Adler remarks in her masthead, "Know when you are beaten"' Percy scoffed. He turned and started reaching for his coat. 'Now if that's all…'

'She doesn't want anything' Mycroft broke in. In response, Percy merely raised an elegant eyebrow. 'She got in touch, informed us that the photographs existed, and indicated that she had no intention to use them to extort money or favour', he elaborated.

'Oh, a power play' Percy commented, his interest finally piqued. 'A power play with the most powerful family in Britain. Now that is a dominatrix. Ooh, this is getting rather fun, isn't it?,' he grinned. 'Where is she?'

Not even waiting for a reply, he jumped up and clapped his hands together sharply. 'Text me the details, I'll be in touch. Laters!'

-Inside Adler's house-

Percy had just taken off his coat and allowed himself to sink into the luxuriantly decadent sofa, slipping his lock picks into his pocket when he sensed a predatory gaze directed at him. 'I'm pleased to meet you at last, Mr Sherlock Holmes. Is there anything I could…do for you?' a soft, throaty voice called out. Percy turned his head to the side and found his jaw dropping open slightly, completely dumbstruck. For, leaning casually against the door frame was a stark naked Irene Adler.

'Ms Adler' he said after a moment.

'Such sharp cheekbones. I could cut myself slapping that face. Would you like me to try, Sherrrlockk?' she flirted, leaning in close towards him. Percy met her eyes in a deadpan manner, refusing to give in to her charms.

It was to this scene that John eventually walked in a few minutes later, Adler and Percy holding each other's gaze challengingly, refusing to back down. 'Sherlock, why exactly did you feel the need to close the door in my- ' he started, before stopping as he realised the position his friend was in. 'Um, I've missed something, haven't I?' he finally asked.

'Obviously' Adler and Percy replied in unison.

Percy, what the HELL is going on?, he sent out.

She's trying to throw me off my game, obviously, now stop thinking, it's distracting, came Percy's irritable reply. 'Please, make yourself at home' Irene invited. 'Would you like some tea?' she offered, as an afterthought.

'I had some at the palace' Percy told her.

'I know' she shot back affably, crossing her arms and legs comfortably as she settled back in an armchair. Percy frowned; he couldn't seem to make any kind of deduction about her at all. Completely bewildered, he turned to John and rapidly analysed him, before turning back to Adler and trying again. He still couldn't do it, he realised. Irene smiled at him confidently, waiting for him to speak.

'Er, could you put something on please?' John interrupted, taking pains to avoid gazing at her. 'Er, anything at all?' he squeaked as she turned her gaze on him.

'Why? Are you feeling…exposed?' Irene whispered lasciviously.

'I don't think that John quite knows where to look' Percy interrupted, quite enjoying his companion's discomfort.

'Oh, I think he knows exactly where to look; I'm not quite sure about you though' Irene corrected at him, leaning in a little closer towards him.

'Yes, if I wanted to look at naked women I'd borrow John's laptop' Percy deadpanned, tossing her his coat.

You do borrow my laptop, John pointed out.

I confiscate it, John, Percy rationalised.

'Well, never mind that' Adler said, wrapping Percy's coat around her, before plunking herself back onto her armchair. 'We've got better things to talk about – for instance, how was it done? The hiker with the bashed in head. How was he killed?'

'That's not what I'm here about' Percy frowned.

'I know, you're here for the photographs, but that's never going to happen, and since we're just here chatting anyway…' Irene purred out.

'That story hasn't been on the news yet' John interrupted in surprise. 'How can you possibly-'

'I know one of the policemen. Well, I know what he likes' Irene clarified absent-mindedly, eyes never moving from Percy.

'Oh. And you like policemen?' the doctor queried.

'I like detective stories – and detectives. Brainy's the new sexy' Adler winked at Percy.

'Position of the car…' the consulting detective trailed off, still rattled by Adler's nakedness. He shook his head quickly and tried to pull himself back together – outwardly, his composure seemed to change only minutely. 'Er, the position of the car relative to the hiker at the time of the backfire. That and the fact that the death blow was to the back of the head. That's all you need to know,' he rattled off, still a little flustered.

'Okay, tell me then, how was he murdered?' Adler said curiously.

'He wasn't.'

'You don't think it was murder?'

'Oh, I know it wasn't.'

'Alright, but how?' Irene insisted.

'The same way that I know the victim was an excellent sportsman recently returned from foreign travel and that the photographs I'm looking for are in this room' Percy replied.

'Okay, but how?' Adler demanded.

'Ah, so they are in this room,' the demigod deduced. 'John, man the door, let nobody in.'

And use that lighter I gave you to get some smoke outside too, enough to activate the smoke alarm, he added.

Understood, John responded.

Percy stood up and stretched his legs before slowly pacing around Adler, circling her like a shark.

'Looking for the photos now?' Irene challenged.

'Not just yet, you're moderately clever and we've got a moment, so I suppose I can indulge you' he stalled. 'Two men alone in the countryside several yards apart, and one car. Two men, a car, and nobody else. The driver's trying to fix his engine. Getting nowhere. And the hiker's taking a moment, looking at the sky. Watching the birds perhaps? Any moment now, something's gonna happen. What?'

'The hiker dies' Adler deadpanned.

'No, no, no that's the result. What happens?'

'The car backfires' said Adler.

'There's going to be a loud noise.'

'So, what?'

'Oh, noises are rather important – they can tell you all sorts of things. For instance…' as Percy paused for dramatic effect, the smoke alarm started to ring throughout the house. There it was! Just for a second, The Woman's eyes had slid over towards the large mirror mounted atop her fireplace. Percy got up and started running his fingers over the mirror frame, trying to find a hidden switch. 'Thank you, Ms Adler. Now then…eureka!' he exclaimed as his digits located a slight depression at the bottom of the frame; after he pressed it, the mirror slowly moved upwards, revealing a small wall safe behind it.

You can turn it off now John, he sent.

I'm on it, I'm on it, the doctor grumbled back.

Satisfied, the consulting detective leaned towards the wall safe, intently studying the keypad imbedded into the front of the safe. 'Hmm. You really should always use gloves with these kinds of things you know. Heaviest oil deposit is always on the first key used – in this case, the three, but after that the sequence is almost impossible to read' Percy lectured before taking a second look at the safe. 'I recognise the make of this safe, it's a six digit code; not your birthday though, you were clearly born in the eighties but the eight looks like its completely untouched…'

'I would tell you the code right now, but I already have' Adler winked at him. Percy frowned at her in confusion. 'Think' she told him, just a moment before three men burst into the room, one of them dragging an unconscious John behind him. Percy began boiling with rage as he saw the large bruise forming on his doctor's forehead. No one hurt his friends and got away with it, no one. With an effort, he stifled the growing fire of rage that blazed within him and channelled it into a cool icy resolve. I'm going to rip the fluids out of their bodies – no, far too messy and too many questions would be raised by Ms Adler…we'll need to do this the old fashioned way, with our bare hands; after I knock them out, I'll start by beating them to a pulp with my baton –

Oh, Percy, we both know you're not going to actually kill them – horribly wound them and scar them for life, yes, but not actually kill them, mind-John-and-Molly whispered in unison. Oh, shut up, he replied irritably, and refocused his attention to the room.

'I want you to open the safe, Mr Holmes' the man who was presumably the leader of this team spoke; American accent, well-trained judging by his stance and ease with handling firearms, quite possibly CIA, or at least, an intelligence agent of some kind…now why would the Americans, or anybody else in the intelligence community want their hands on some compromising photographs? From what Mycroft told me, Adler is very discreet, so they shouldn't know about the photographs…so there's something more that she has, something that they want, something important enough to invade her house in central London regardless of the risk of being caught, fired through his mind.

'I'm afraid I don't know the code' he replied coolly.

'We were listening, she said that she told you.'

'Well if you were listening, you'd know that she didn't.'

'I'm assuming that we missed something. From your reputation, I'm assuming you didn't, Mr Holmes. The safe, now, please.'

'Oh for the love of…,' Percy sighed, and pointed at the Woman, 'she knows the code, go and ask her.'

'Yes, sir. She also knows the code that automatically calls the police and sets off the burglar alarm. I've learned not to trust this woman.'

'Mr Holmes doesn't know…' Irene started, before stopping as the man pointed his gun at her, glaring ferociously.

'One more word out of you – just one – and I will decorate that wall with the insides of your pretty head. That, for me, will not be a hardship' the agent snarled out. He continued, 'Mr Archer. At the count of three, shoot Doctor Watson. One.'

'I don't know the code' Percy insisted.

'Two.'

'She didn't tell me, I don't know it!' Percy exclaimed.

'I'm prepared to believe you any second now' the agent said calmly. 'Thre-'

'No, wait, stop!' Percy shouted. He turned back to the safe, pressing 'three' without hesitation. He paused, finger hovering over the keypad; from what I've seen, Irene Adler is a fairly vain person, so it stands to reason that her keycode would be something reflecting that…now, she claims to have told me the code, and she didn't appear to be lying…so, it goes without saying that she was using steganography of some kind…let's see, she appeared to me completely naked, so…her measurements? Involuntarily, Percy's face gained just the faintest tint of red as his mind systematically reconstructed a facsimile of Adler's body in excruciating detail. In reality, his fingers moved like a blur, punching in the rest of the code. The safe beeped and unlocked. He let out a sigh of relief.

'Thank you, Mr Holmes. Open it for me, if you please.'

Glancing around, he focused on Adler – posture tensed, ready for action, so she's expecting something to happen – who had just jerked her head downwards warningly – telling me to get of the way of the safe, probably a loaded gun in there, the safe's too small for anything else – then at the agent who had dragged John into the room. He was directly behind him, which meant…he was in the line of fire. Perfect, Percy decided. He opened the safe, throwing himself to the side and tackling the leader as he did so. It was all over in seconds – the moment after the gun in the safe had fired, Mr Archer fell down, dead, whilst Percy and Irene each effectively dispatched one man each, and in near-identical fashion – snatching their guns and smashing them in the face. As Adler checked the vitals of the presumably-Americans, Percy reached into the safe and pocketed the phone inside, and rushed over to John.

Fairly large bruise, but he shouldn't have a concussion at least he decided after inspecting the wound. As he continued examining John for any other wounds he might have missed, he was only dimly aware of Adler's presence behind him. It came as a complete surprise to him, then, when Irene Adler flipped him onto the ground and injected a sedative into him. Percy could barely raise himself from the ground as she expertly rifled through his pockets. 'Ah, thank you very much Mr Holmes' she smiled as she finally found her phone. 'This is how I want you to remember me…the woman who beat you' she whispered in his ear, gently kissing his cheek. 'Tell your employers that the photographs are safe with me. They're not for blackmail, merely insurance' she added, sliding something into his breast pocket.

'Farewell, Sherlock Holmes' she nodded, as a salute from one intellectual to another, and left, raising her phone to her ear as she walked away. Percy heaved and gasped, trying to chase after all; with a gargantuan effort, he managed to get onto his knees, but by then, he knew she was long gone. He sighed and slumped down against the floor again, exhausted; in the distance, he thought that he perhaps could hear some sirens. And then darkness consumed him, and he knew no more.

-221B Baker St-

Percy jerked awake with a gasp; he could have sworn that Irene Adler had just been here in his room. It's OK…I'm just returning your coat, he remembered her voice whispering. If she had been here…'John!' he called out. 'John!'

'H-how did I get here?' he sputtered out. 'And are you alright?' he asked, gesturing vaguely at the fading bruise on his friend's head.

'Well, the police carried both of us here – though I should warn you, I think Lestrade filmed you on his phone. And I'm fine, thanks for asking' John replied. As Percy got up and staggered around, searching for any trace of her presence – anything, John sighed and supported his friend, bundling him back to his bed.

'Where – where is she?' Percy demanded.

'Where's who?' John asked, puzzled.

'The woman. That woman. The woman. The woman woman!' Percy bellowed as he collapsed into his bed.

'I-Irene Adler? She got away, no one found her' John told him. As Percy tried to get out of bed again, he found John gently pushing him back into the bed. 'Bed rest. Doctor's orders' John commanded. 'If you need me, I'll be next door' he called out, closing the door behind him.

'Why would I need you?' Percy asked blearily.

'No reason at all.'

As the door closed behind John, Percy settled back into his bed, propping himself up with pillows, gaze furiously scanning the room; surely, there had to be some clue that he'd missed…he shot upright as he remembered how he had felt her slip something into his breast pocket when she had…beaten him. Perhaps that might tell him something? Fingers trembling, he slowly dipped them into his pocket and drew them out; there, in his hand was a picture of Irene Adler in an evening dress, on the back was simply scrawled – to Sherlock Holmes. As he contemplated the photo and slowly slipped it into a drawer of his bedside table, a low, erotic moan sounded through his room. What? I only have one phone on hand; all my burner phones are stored elsewhere – as my phone was in my coat pocket, it goes without saying then that my coat has to be here! he exulted. So she was here after all… There! Hanging on a hook attached to his door, it was no wonder that he hadn't seen it before; Percy stumbled over, fumbling inside the coat pockets, until he found his phone. A simple text message stared out at him from the screen:

Till next time, Mr Holmes.

Percy grinned tiredly as he saw the text; he had a feeling that this was the start of a beautiful relationship.

-A week later, 221B Baker St-

When Percy woke up again a few hours later, he found Molly and John busy with a game of Operation. What's she doing here? he wondered. He greeted the two of them with a nod, carelessly throwing himself onto the sofa. 'What brings you here Molly?' he asked eventually, peering at her back as she passed the tweezers to John. Back tensed, prepared for a confrontation of some kind, or just simply nervous – hands slightly sweaty, body language reads as guarded…there's something she wants to tell me then, but she's afraid that I'm not going to react well…

His theory was confirmed as she turned to face him – regretful, yet resolved, he determined, before frowning as he noticed her eyes – just faintly red-rimmed – something must have happened. 'P-Percy' she started, wringing her hands nervously. 'I-I'm leaving Percy' she continued, biting her lip nervously as she tried to gauge his reaction. Go on, he motioned. 'M-my parents,' she said softly, 'they- they're sick, so I-I need to be with them, in New York.'

Percy felt like he was being floored. 'I-I'm so sorry' he croaked out eventually. 'I am so sorry' he repeated. 'I- I wasn't expecting this, b-but I understand' he told her, reaching out to hug her – one of the very few voluntary hugs he had participated in. 'You need to be with them.'

'P-Percy, this, this is most likely going to be a permanent move' Molly whispered into his ears. 'I – I'm leaving next week.'

'It's OK' he assured her. 'I understand.'

As he awkwardly patted her shoulder, mouthing help me to John, he felt Molly smile wanly through the tears, and as John joined them in their hug, somehow he felt that everything would work out for the best.

-221B Baker St, a few weeks later-

Percy winced as he read a text from Mycroft.

She's in New York. – MH

We all knew this day was coming, mind-John-and-Molly whispered in the depths of his mind. It's time to stop running. And it's been ages since we visited mum. Percy sighed and replied, fingers trembling just slightly, hinting at his inner turmoil.

It looks like I'm going to New York then brother dear. It's time to go hunting.– SH

Good luck. – MH

-New York-

Irene Adler's eyes widened as she read the text that had just been sent to her from one of her 'clients'.

Sherlock Holmes and John Watson have been hired to track you down

When pursued by so formidable an antagonist, the best thing to do is to flee the nest, she decided. I need to fake my death…

-One hour later, Percy's old apartment before he left New York-

As Percy slunk through the flat, John paused, studying his partner's back. Despite the impassive façade his friend presented the world with, he knew him well enough that he could tell that going back to the US had shaken him to his very core. Or perhaps it was the trepidation of meeting Molly again? Although Percy had hidden it well, John could easily determine that losing one of his best and oldest friends – quite possibly forever – was something that he hadn't quite come to terms with yet. Nor should he have, his mind whispered. It would be a poor friend indeed that moved on after they were gone for only a few weeks, after all. From here, he could see that Percy was just a tad paler than just a few moments before at 221B, fingers trembling slightly in nervous anticipation.

'Percy, are you sure you're up to-'

'I'm fine' Percy grunted. 'I'm just going to leave a note for my mum, won't be a minute. Here, take these' he said, tossing over a set of keys. 'You'll need them to get in here unless you fancy practicing your lock picking skills – which honestly need improvement' he commented dryly.

John scowled at him and pocketed the keys. 'So where are we heading to first?' he inquired.

'If I know Ms Adler, by now she would have been informed of our arrival-'

'That's impossible Percy, no one apart from Mycroft even knows-'

'Governments spy on each other John, that's what they do. At least it keeps them from running their countries – gods only know that they're much more capable of incompetence when it comes to actually improving the lot of the masses. Anyway, as I was saying, by now Ms Adler would have been informed of our intention to search for her; luckily though, I estimate that she could have only known about us pursuing her here for an hour or so; I have it on good authority that she was at Long Beach when Mycroft put in the call; ergo if we hurry, we may be able to catch her at her residence, which luckily for us, is only a few blocks away from here.'

John nodded, and moved towards the door, Percy just a few steps behind him. As they stepped out onto the pavement, he paused, sniffing the air delicately. 'Hey, Percy…,' he said slowly, 'do you smell smoke?'

'I- ' Percy broke off as he noticed saw a pillar of flames and smoke rising further down the road. No, there was something more than that – he could feel it blaring at his senses, it was so familiar, what, what, what! He gasped as a terrible realisation slowly stole over him. 'No!' he cried out, breaking out into a sprint, racing down across the road; just as John was certain his friend was suicidal, he flicked out his baton and somehow extended it into a twenty foot pole – must have enchanted it beforehand, John mused – the net effect of which was him neatly pole vaulting across the road. Showoff, John grumbled inwardly, following suit. As the two of them turned a corner and pounded towards the burning house, John's eyes caught sight of a screaming woman trapped inside on the top floor. Just as the pair skidded to a halt in front of the house, they caught sight of a trio of Cyclopes running away– only these were no ordinary Cyclopes: at least five metres tall, they by far towered over every other Cyclops or giant that the pair had met in their careers.

Percy sent to John, Cyclopes of that size must be very ancient, and, logically, quite powerful to have survived so long – now what are they doing out in the open killing Ms Adler?

You're sure she's dead?, John questioned.

I don't know, Percy admitted, already starting to run, but whoever that woman was is definitely dead by now – see how those stones are melting? We need to chase after those Cyclopes, maybe we can get a lead on where to find Ms Adler if she's faked her death, as I expect she would have; we also need to question her about her ties to the mythological world.

A comfortable silence descended between the two of them as they loped their way behind the Cyclops, who seemed to be heading towards Central Park. Percy frowned to himself. What was in Central Park? Secret entrance to the Underworld…maple tree of Hyperion…those are the only two things of significance…now it's highly unlikely that they're heading for the Underworld, their musical skills are terrible, so, I have to assume that they're doing something to that tree…oh, I see. Not good. Percy sped up even further, alternately extending and retracting his baton cum vaulting pole, desperate to intercept the Cyclops. With their longer legs and headstart though, the pair of them were still straggling behind by some two hundred metres when a massive golden light began to flare out from the maple tree that held Hyperion; the ground started shaking as if Poseidon himself was throwing a temper tantrum, enough to knock the Cyclopes down onto the ground. As the light slowly cleared, the two detectives found themselves blinking furiously, trying to clear the spots and stars that danced across the vision.

Percy snapped his fingers, restoring their vision back to its normal state, and immediately started peering around. He gasped as he saw the crater where Hyperion's tree had once been. He's free, he realised, a chill running through his body. He jogged over to the closest Cyclops, ready to draw Riptide at the slightest provocation. 'Who are you working for?' he demanded. 'Why did you kill Irene Adler and why did you just free Hyperion?'

As the Cyclops laughed and spat at him, Percy swung Riptide and stabbed it right into its solitary eye, ignoring the gore that sprayed across his suit and coat as the monster writhed and screamed. 'TELL ME!' he roared at it. What he could have learned from the monsters, he would never know, because silver arrows suddenly sprouted from their heads. Percy swore and turned around, holding his hands up in the universal gesture for 'I'm unarmed'. Idiots. Must not punch them, must not punch them, he recited.

'Thalia' he greeted, only to receive a sharp slap across his face; he was certain the ensuing crack could have been heard all the way across the other side of New York.

'Shut up, Jackson' she snarled out, zapping him for good measure. 'I have questions, and you will answer them, but first I'm going to take you to the gods.'

-Olympus, throne room of the gods-

Artemis sighed and longingly glanced at the world outside; she found council meetings as boring as ever, and winter solstice meetings like today were even more tedious – Zeus, Poseidon and Hades were bickering amongst themselves whilst Dionysus, Ares and Hermes seemed to have made it their life ambition to cause as much mayhem as possible. The other female Olympians seemed to be chattering about something or other as they lounged in their thrones; the minor gods, Hecate, Janus, Hebe and so on were irritably trying to focus on the topics at hand, still new to the entire concept of being included in council meetings; Hestia was peacefully tending the hearth, as she always had. Despite the rising cacophony that seemed to escalate with every passing moment, the bang of the doors as they slammed upon echoed throughout the entire throne room. The entire room fell silent as the gods turned to look at the intruders. Artemis blinked in surprise as she saw her lieutenant Thalia Grace and two other Hunters storming in, leading two men in behind then.

'My apologies for the interruption my lords and ladies, but this is rather important' Thalia ground out uncomfortably. 'The Titan Hyperion has escaped.'

As the gods started shouting in panic, Thalia sighed and clapped her hands, causing a thunderclap to echo throughout the room, silencing them like petulant children. Which most of them acted like, Artemis thought in amusement. 'As I was saying,' Thalia continued in the ensuing silence, 'Hyperion has escaped from his prison. These men were found at the scene.'

The taller of the pair stood up, dusting himself off, and offered a hand to his companion. 'Thalia, really, this is ridiculous-' he started.

'Oh, shut up Sherlock Holmes, or do you prefer Percy Jackson?' she shot back, making everyone gasp in surprise, leaning in closely to verify that it was indeed the lost Hero of Olympus. Artemis went stiff, her entire body frozen in surprise as she stared back into those deep sea green eyes that had captured her all those years ago.

Percy clicked his fingers to clean his and John's clothes before summoning the two of them their armchairs from 221B. As he sat down he steepled his fingers and smiled at them thinly.

'So…Perseus' Zeus started awkwardly, peering down at his formerly-missing-favourite-nephew, 'what can you tell us about Hyperion's escape?'

'Yes.'

'I'm sorry?'

'I should hope so, your security around the stupid tree was abysmal and you only have yourselves to blame for his escape' Percy said, petulantly crossing his arms, unflinching as the gods directed their gazes at him. It took John sighing and giving him a look for Holmes to relent. 'Fine,' he sighed, 'the two of us just happened to be in the area and we noticed some Cyclopes heading towards Central Park. Being the fine, upstanding citizens that we are, we tried to intercept and interrogate them for information, but we were too late to stop them freeing Hyperion'. Percy jumped up frenetically, spinning around rapidly, taking in the entire throne room. 'Nice to know that you actually upheld my wish of granting every god a throne' he commented as he seated himself again.

As he finished, everyone turned to Apollo, who merely nodded and said, 'He's telling the truth'. The gods visibly relaxed; whilst they would probably never admit it, the thought of facing down the man who had single-handedly taken down Gaea herself was rather unappealing, despite their superior numbers. After all, Perseus Jackson had proven to himself more than worthy of the moniker (unknowingly) bestowed upon him – The King: the supreme demigod of the modern era.

Zeus spoke up again, 'Perseus, we need your help.'

'My help?' he scoffed.

'Yes,' Zeus admitted freely, 'a few years ago, several of the most powerful monsters began to reawaken again-'

'Boring. Not interested.'

'W-what?' the gods spluttered.

'You want my assistance in dealing with whatever threat to the gods is rising, yes? My answer is no.'

'You would deny a request from the gods?' Zeus asked, his voice hardening, face darkening in anger. As he glanced at Poseidon, he noticed that his brother didn't seem surprised at all by Perseus' complete change in demeanour….he knew where Perseus was all these years, and he didn't tell us!, he realised.

'Sorry, I'll have to pass on that,' Percy said, motioning towards his partner, 'My doctor here, John Watson, says that I have a malformed public-duty gland and a natural deficiency in moral fiber, and because of that, I am therefore excused from having to save the gods'. Inwardly, though, Percy's mind was racing: if they want me to be investigating and killing monsters, I should be able to get into contact with whoever assigned those Cyclopes to kill Ms Adler, if, indeed, she was killed…the game isn't over yet, not by a long shot.

Zeus sighed and pinched his nose. 'What will it take for you to help us?' he questioned.

Percy smirked at the god. 'I want twelve times my normal rate, in US dollars. And a house – a good house – in Manhattan.'

'Done' Zeus agreed quickly, before the man could change his mind.

-Outside the throne room-

In the few hours that had passed since Percy's demand of pay and housing – for both himself and John – he had started catching up with his old friends, most of whom seemed to have accepted him back tentatively; although they were understandably a little resentful that he hadn't deigned to keep in touch with them, they had understood his reasons and accepted them for the most part – though they had threatened him with tortures worse than those in the Fields if he decided to continue ignoring them once he went back to Britain. Thalia, though…he shivered slightly at the slightly evil look in her eyes – he doubted she had completely forgiven him yet – if she had even begun to at all. The young demigod winced slightly as his father hugged him – I think I can feel some ribs giving way…. 'It's good to see you again dad' he gasped out eventually. 'But I really need to be going home to mum, and visit some of my friends too, I suppose' he excused himself.

'Oh, all right' Poseidon sighed. 'Just don't disappear like you did the last time.'

'No promises' Percy said dryly as his father vanished, leaving behind the faintest trace of a sea breeze. The demigod leaned against the wall and focused his gaze at the figure he could just barely make out lurking in the shadows. 'I know you're there' he called out.

'So, you're back' a cool voice said from the shadows. Percy stiffened, instantly recognising the sound of that voice – how could he not? Its owner had been the one to drag him out of depression over a decade ago. Unwillingly, he turned and met the goddess' eyes; they were just like the ones he imagined whenever he woke up – angry, betrayed, accusing. He had desperately hoped to try and put off this conversation until he could work out what to say to her, but it seemed like the universe was conspiring against him tonight. Remaining as calm as possible as anyone possibly could when having an angry goddess in front of them, he gave her a short nod; he didn't trust himself to speak – even after over a decade away from her, she still captivated him, she was still just as breathtaking in his mind as Aphrodite.

'Yes' he eventually forced out, wincing inwardly as she stepped into the light and he saw the restrained resentment seething on her face. He barely stopped himself from shivering as the look in her eyes changed to contemptuous.

'For how long?,' she demanded, 'How long are you staying this time before you decide to leave everything, m- everyone behind again?'

'I didn't leave everyone behind' he protested weakly. 'I just…needed time to think.'

'You apparently didn't tell any of your other friends that you were leaving either' she commented dryly, leaning against the wall herself. 'You left everyone who ever cared about you worrying about you, wondering whether you had been kidnapped, whether you were alright or not' she accused.

'…I left notes' he said eventually.

'Yes, because that makes it so much better, Perseus' Artemis hissed out, moving fully into the light. He bit back a gasp as the moonlight illuminated her form; she seemed to be glowing from within with an ethereal light that made her already astonishingly beautiful features completely mindblowing. With an effort he wrenched his mind back to the moment. 'We were friends, Perseus, best friends, and you expect that a simple sorry after running away for over ten years with nothing but a note as an apology is somehow going to make everything go away?' she demanded.

'I would never suggest that' he replied calmly. 'And to answer your question, I intend to remain here for a while, Artemis. Also…for what it's worth, I am sorry.'

'That's Lady Artemis to you, boy. And I suppose you think that a simple sorry makes everything alright now, does it?' she sneered. 'How wonderful for you, yo-you've been gallivanting about the world without a single thought about anybody you left behind-'

That's not true, I think about you constantly, his mind protested, though he didn't voice this out loud.

'- while everyone here worried about you; and we're not supposed to have a problem with that, no, because Percy Jackson thinks it's a perfectly OK thing to do!' she shrieked.

Having drifted partway into his mind palace whilst she was ranting at him, Percy, unluckily for him, reverted to a combination of his default responses whenever he wasn't paying attention, 'Yes, I agree with you completely. Whatever you say. Yes. Great.'

Artemis howled and jumped on top of him, punching him in the face. 'You – you infuriate me, Percy Jackson!' she screamed as she landed blow after blow to the demigod's body; his body started shaking like a ragdoll as she pummelled him incessantly, blood flying all over across the hallway as she systematically broke his arms, legs and he thought he even felt a few ribs give way as she continued punching. Being the war hardened veteran he was, though, he shook off the pain near unconsciously.

Spitting out a glob of blood, he tilted his head and asked her in that infuriatingly and innocently curious way, 'I said I'm sorry, is that what you're supposed to do?'

Artemis shrieked and punched him one more time before storming out in high dudgeon. Percy blinked. 'I think she's mad at me' he said to nobody in particular before focusing his attention to his body; cracked two – no, three ribs, heavy bruising spanning the entirety of torso, broken left arm…I got off lightly, he decided. Well, comparatively, anyway… With but a thought, his injuries rapidly began to disappear as he cast a healing spell on himself, leaving behind a hungry and tired, but no longer battered Percy Jackson.

As Artemis strode away from the hallway, she found her resolve to walk away from the man she had just beaten to a pulp faltering; eventually, she came to a complete halt as she sensed his life force dip sharply. She let out a sigh of something that was most definitely not relief as she realised he hadn't died, merely expended a large chunk of energy healing himself. She stifled a flinch as his body – beaten black and blue by her own hands – came to the forefront of her mind. This would be so much easier if I hated you, she thought, slumping slightly against a supporting pillar. After all, she could never truly hate Perseus Jackson, no matter how much she tried to convince herself of that.

-Percy's new apartment, Christmas Eve-

Percy's eyes widened in surprise as the other Heroes of Olympus, along with Nico and Reyna filed inside his apartment. 'Not that I'm not pleased to see you all again, but why are you here?' he demanded.

'Housewarming party' they chorused. Oh dear lord, Percy sighed to himself.

Against his better judgement, he let them in: 'Come in.'

'Big place' Reyna smiled at him.

'Yes' he said dryly. 'John!,' he called out, 'we have guests!'. Clapping his hands, Percy summoned up some refreshments for his guests: tea, biscuits and a chocolate cake. Entertaining guests is so boring John, come down already, he grumbled. Coming, coming, John sighed.

'You've already met briefly, but again, this is Doctor John Watson, my partner in solving crimes' he introduced once John had made it downstairs. 'John, this is Jason Grace…'

-A few hours later-

Once the initial introductions were over and done with, Percy had 'Portkeyed' himself to Baker St and back, bringing back several bottles of wine and champagne gifted to him by previous clients that he had never drank. Nothing like some alcohol to grease bonding. He grinned as he heard the doorbell ring – that must be Molly, he exulted. He bounded eagerly to the door, swinging it open eagerly and hugging the women at the door breathlessly. He blinked. Wait, women, plural? As he released them and stepped back, his eyes narrowed as his eyes meet deep pools of molten silver set into an equally shocked face. As the male demigod and the goddess stood there staring at each other awkwardly, the other woman cleared her throat. 'It's nice to see you too, Percy' Thalia said teasingly. 'Do you hand out hugs to everyone now, or are we the only ones?'

Percy continued staring back at the goddess in surprise for a few more seconds, before stepping aside. 'Do come in' he invited, eyes still fixed upon the silver orbs that had captured him over ten years ago.

'This isn't a social-' Thalia started before craning her neck to look inside. 'Housewarming party?'

'Under duress, I assure you. Want some food?'

'Don't mind if I do' Thalia smiled and stepped inside, not-so-gently patting her cousin's shoulder as she left him alone with her mistress.

'So,' Percy said dryly, 'might I know what brings the great Lady Artemis to my humble doorstep?'

'My father wishes for me to inform you that for the duration of your…employment…with us, you will be accompanying my Hunters, to train and guard them, as soon as you conclude your…business here in New York. You are to go to Camp Half-Blood, where my Hunters are based for now' Artemis scowled.

Percy blinked. Then he said, 'Is he high?'

'Quite possibly, believe me, this isn't what I wanted either' she snarked. Because despite everything, I still care about you, you infuriating man, and I don't think that my hunters would be particularly welcoming towards you…especially after the way you left.

He tilted his head to the side and examined her for a few moments before sweeping his arm behind him. 'Won't you come in?' he asked. 'Thalia seems like she'll be here a while.'

The silver eyed goddess hesitated a few moments before giving him a sharp nod and entering. She found Thalia drinking wine and clinking glasses with the other Heroes of Olympus, lounging back comfortably. For a brief moment, as she glanced at Jason and Piper, she felt a surge of longing for a semblance of that kind of companionship – close as she was to the Hunters, she was ultimately their patron goddess, and whilst she considered them her daughters, she wanted, needed, someone capable and willing to challenge her. Then she remembered Orion's betrayal of her, and buried that yearning once more.

Molly Hooper smiled brightly and hugged her best friend. She stepped back a little to take him in; he seemed a little paler than when she had least seen him, yet he seemed also to have…calmed, for lack of a better word, more at peace with himself. Percy smiled down at her genuinely and stood aside to let her in. As the two of them entered the living room, Percy clapped his hands sharply; almost immediately, his guests turned to look at their host, so quickly that he feared for a moment that they might have gotten whiplash. 'Everyone, this is Dr Molly Hooper, a close friend of mine from my days at Oxford' he introduced. 'Molly, this is everyone' he winked, grinning slightly as she poked him in the ribs.

As Molly and Percy began their good-natured bickering, Artemis felt something unfamiliar stirring within her gut, seething inside her as she noticed how close they were, the way that the two of them seamlessly engaged each other, though her instinct told her that they were merely platonic friends. Why did the room suddenly seem so suffocatingly small? Feeling like she needed some air, she was about to move to the hallway when she heard a low moan. 'Don't worry, that was my phone' Percy called out. Artemis' eyes widened as she put the pieces together. Perseus…has a girlfriend? Why did the thought bother her so much? She felt like an invisible icy fist had just reached out and clenched on her heart; every pounding heartbeat felt laboured, painful. Why was she feeling this way?

Mantelpiece. Merry Christmas, Mr Holmes. One last challenge, from one intellectual to another.

The words reverberated about his skull as Percy moved towards the fireplace, reaching out for the small gift box wrapped in plain wrapping paper – how had he not noticed it before? His nimble fingers deftly stripped the wrapping from the box, revealing Adler's phone – the same phone he briefly held in London, he realised with a frown. Ms Adler didn't reveal much, but from what I could tell, she most definitely wouldn't have just given it away voluntarily…unless it no longer mattered. He felt a wave of overwhelming sadness steal over him as he bowed his head, perhaps the faintest of tears prickling in his eyes, a tribute to one of the worthiest adversaries he had ever had. If you had just been a little faster, you could have caught her, saved her, his mind whispered.

'Molly' he called out. 'Perchance, did you positively identify a woman in the morgue today…as one Ms Irene Adler?'

'Yes, how did you know?' she asked him. DNA records can be altered, his mind whispered. They're only as good as the record keepers after all…

'What was the state of the body?' he asked her intently.

'Her body was covered in third and fourth degree burns' she shrugged. 'That house that burned down near your mother's place– she was found there.'

Your fault, your fault… his mind jeered. You could have saved her, if only you had moved faster…

'I see,' he muttered, striding back to his bedroom , 'excuse me, I'm not feeling very well'. The moment he was in his room, he pulled out his violin and began strumming it; its mournful strains soon began to fill the air.

'Was this Irene his girlfriend?' Artemis inquired, glancing up at his room worriedly. The two of them might be somewhat estranged at the moment, but she remembered – all too vividly – the way he had looked after Chase's betrayal – the lively spark that had once been in his eyes had become muted, no longer quite as bright, and it tore her apart to know that it might never be the way it had once been again.

'I don't know' John admitted, shrugging. At a pointed glance from practically everyone else in the room, he added, 'It's Percy. How will we ever know what goes on in his head?'. Artemis hesitated and glanced upwards again, yearning to talk him about it, yet at the same time, still angry with him over the way he had left that day over a decade ago. Eventually, she turned her face away and focused on the – now slightly subdued – party.

-Costco-

Just as John was starting to move towards the exit, he found himself accosted by a beautiful red haired woman. 'John?' she called out. 'John Watson?'

'Yes, that's me' he replied, casually admiring her form even as he raised his hackles – barely anyone here should know my real name, how does she know who I am, how? Even on the blog my face is mostly obscured, so they shouldn't recognise me through that…; unconsciously, he inhaled her perfume – just like Irene Adler's, his mind commented. His eyes widened and he looked at her again closely. 'Y-you're supposed to be dead' he croaked out in surprise. 'Tell Sherlock you're alive' he demanded.

'I can't, then he'd come after me' the now red haired Irene Adler shook her head, full red lips curling into a condescending smile.

'I'll come after you if you don't tell him' he threatened, subtly taking a step closer.

Adler raised her hands placatingly and said, almost pleadingly, 'Look, I made a mistake Doctor Watson. I sent something to Sherlock for safe-keeping, and now I need it back. This is for his protection; a lot of people are hunting for it.'

'Tell him you're alive' John insisted.

'I can't' she said softly. 'I mean, what do I say?'

'What do you normally say?,' John hissed out, 'You've texted him a lot.'

'Just the usual stuff' she shrugged, a little taken aback by his vehemence. She started reading from her phone, '"Good morning"; "I like your funny hat"; "I'm sad tonight. Let's have dinner"… "You looked sexy on 'Crimewatch'. Let's have dinner"; "I'm not hungry, let's have dinner".'

John felt his jaw dropping. 'Y-you….flirted with Sherlock Holmes?' he gaped.

'At him. He never replies. Anyway….there. "I'm not dead. Let's have dinner."' Irene replied.

-Central Park-

I'm not dead. Let's have dinner.

The words floated up at him from the screen mockingly. Percy grinned fiercely as he read the message. The game is on. So, that woman trapped in the burning house – it wasn't Ms Adler…this still doesn't answer why those Cyclopes would have been sent to kill her…His eyes widened slightly as he saw the time – he was due to meet his mother in just five minutes. The demigod started sprinting; generally he wouldn't have cared about being a few minutes late, but this was his mother after all. As he skidded to a halt outside his door, and began reaching for his keys, his eyes were drawn almost instantly to the scratches on the door – vaguely reminiscent of a boot print, signs of forced entry since I left, mum is in danger, I can faintly smell her perfume which means she was just here, they must have intercepted her. After he opened the door, his ears could just faintly pick up the sounds of sobbing; his eyes darkened into whirling eddies that promised a fate worse than Tartarus to whoever had made his mother cry.

As he stepped into the living room, he was dumbstruck by the man standing behind his seated mother, holding a gun to her head. Isn't he the same agent at Ms Adler's house? If he is here, surely there must be more agents somewhere? Yet, even when he exerted every one of his senses, he could only detect the one agent in front of him. 'It's nice to meet you again, Mr Holmes' the agent said.

'I wish I could say the same.'

'I've been asking this one for what we want. She doesn't seem to know anything. But you know what I'm asking for, don't you Mr Holmes?'

Percy ignored him and padded his way across the room slowly, until he was right in front of his whimpering mother, bending over to inspect her – slight bloodstains on fingernails, fought back against assailant so it goes without saying then that he must have attacked her – he dies. He then transferred his gaze to the other man in the room, mentally picking out lethal target points on his body – carotid artery, jugular, skull, eyes, lungs. Slowly he straightened up and looked the soon-to-be-dead-man in the eyes. 'I believe I do,' he said, 'but first you can stop pointing that gun at her.'

'So you can point a gun at me?'

'I'm unarmed.'

'Mind if I check?'

'Oh, I insist.'

The moment that the man started patting him down, Percy kneed him in the face and smashed his head into the floor. 'Moron' he scoffed. He hurried over to his mum, gently stroking her face in a soothing fashion, desperately asking, 'Are you alright?'

'I-I'm fine' she said shakily, throwing her arms around him. Percy nodded in relief and flicked his gaze back to the man he had just knocked out, face still promising murder.

-Costco-

As Adler slunk off, John picked up his bags and started to move towards the exit again. As he rejoined the sea of people that always seemed to be swarming around in the Big Apple, he felt something – just faintly – tickling at the edges of his consciousness, as if asking permission to enter his head. Doesn't feel like Percy, but then if they were hostile, they wouldn't exactly be asking permission, now would they… John lowered his mental barriers just a tad.

Doctor Watson, Artemis' voice rang through his head. I would like to speak with you about a mutual friend of ours. Is that a request or an order?, John sent back.

'A request' the goddess said curtly, suddenly appearing in front of him; John was thankful for the Mist because otherwise he was sure that the mortals around them would have run away screaming in terror of an alien invasion.

'What do you want to know?' he asked as he glanced around to reorientate himself, then started moving back towards his and Percy's new house. He waited patiently in the ensuing silence as the two of them walked together; Artemis seemed to be thinking something over, making to open her mouth several times before clamping it shut.

As they stood in front of Percy's new house, she caught his arm and looked him directly in the eye. 'What happened to make Perseus so…cold?' she asked him, in what could almost have been concern.

'I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to discuss this – if he wishes for you to know then he will tell you' John said. 'I will not cheapen myself and betray his trust by telling you, or your compatriots who have demanded the same thing from me. Now if that's all…' he said and turned away, before pausing at the note on the door.

Crime in progress. Please disturb.

'Wait!' he called out, ripping off the piece of paper and showing it to her. 'I might need your assistance' he said, promptly before he dropped his shopping bags, kicked down the door, and charged in, already pulling out his gun and baton. He rolled into the living room, aiming his gun at…a completely deadpan Percy and his mother, and some man hogtied to a chair. 'Well, this is embarrassing' he said, grinning wryly as he pocketed his weapons. 'W-what happened?'

'My mother was attacked by a lone CIA agent, I'm restoring balance to the universe' the other demigod said – as he vaguely flapped his hand in the direction of said CIA agent, John noticed that the fingers of his hands were faintly tinged with the red of blood. Percy's fingers reached into his pocket and he was just in the process of calling the NYPD when he saw Artemis loitering in the hallway with, presumably, John's shopping bags. He desperately wanted to reach out and talk to her, but then he was put through, and the moment was lost. 'Captain Thomas Gregson?' he said into the speaker. 'This is Sherlock Holmes, consultant for the NYPD for several years now. I'd like to report a break-in at my new home, which is on my file. Please send your least irritating officers and an ambulance. What? Oh, no, no, no I'm fine. No, um, it's the burglar' he said with a trace of faux-regret as he looked directly at said 'burglar', who was now squirming under his deadly gaze. 'I'm afraid he's rather badly injured…oh, a few broken ribs, fractured skull ... suspected punctured lung. Hmmm? Oh, he fell out of a window.'

'What are you doing here?' Percy said to Artemis abruptly as the police left and John started treating Sally in his room – the first words he had spoken to her in the half hour she had been in his house.

Why can't I just be worried about you?, she wondered to herself. I might be angry with you, I might kill you, but that doesn't mean I don't worry about you. 'My father's patience is wearing thin' she said to him out loud. 'He expects that your other business here in New York will be completed soon, or…' she trailed off as she saw the murderous gleam in Percy's swirling sea green eyes. Involuntarily, she took half a step back as his eyes continued to darken.

'Tell him that I will finish my business here when it is finished' he said in the ensuing silence.

The goddess held his gaze and stepped closer, trying to ignore the trembling that threatened to ripple through her body. She reached out and touched his arm tentatively, and said softly, 'Perseus…'

'I believe we're done here, Lady Artemis' he said tonelessly. 'Allow me to show you-' he stopped as he glanced at her neck – on it, dangled a familiar gold band; the same band he had once hoped to use to propose to Chase. 'I-I see you kept it' he motioned, reality already dimming as his mind leapt back to their last meeting over a decade ago.

'Percy!' Artemis said, smiling brightly at her patient-friend-colleague.

'Artemis' he greeted placidly.

'Apollo told me that he feels you're fairly stable, so we won't need to meet anymore…'Artemis said, pausing as she noticed the expression on Percy's face. 'Is there something you want to tell me?'

'Y-yeah' he said, flushing slightly as he looked down at his hands, which were clutching a small box. 'I – as you know, before we found out about…her betrayal, I-I was planning to propose to her' he said eventually. 'Well, that's not exactly an option now,' he shrugged and grinned macabrely, passing her the box, 'I-I want you to have it.'

Her eyes widened in surprise. Was he….proposing to her?

'I-I'm not proposing or anything' he said in embarrassment, face flushed pink even more than before, not quite looking her in the eyes. 'J-just consider it…a token of our friendship.'

Artemis blinked and flushed herself as she looked down at the ring. 'I- I would be honoured' she said eventually, holding his hand reassuringly for a few moments before she pocketed the box.

'We meet again, Mr Holmes' an unfamiliar voice interrupted before she could say anything; Percy froze up and slowly turned to meet the amused dark eyes of Irene Adler, attired in a beautiful black dress, fully made up, hair perfectly coiffured. The Woman at her immaculate best.

'What do you want?' he demanded, waving a hand at Artemis. 'I'm a bit busy here.'

'I need my phone back' Irene said calmly.

'Hmmm, no, go away, you don't interest me at the moment Woman' he said dryly, already turning back to face Artemis.

'Oh, I think you'll want to hear this…Perseus Jackson…Lady Artemis' she said sweetly. Percy froze. She's most certainly not a demigod, or a legacy for that matter, not a single drop of ichor inside her, but she is clearly aware of the mythological world; this opens up the possibility that it was in fact she who contacted those Cyclopes, perhaps through an intermediary, to destroy her house and fake her death…at the same time, the fact that she later sent her phone to me would seem to indicate that she has someone hunting her, someone so fearsome that she believed that she would die; she doesn't look like a person given to be making emotional decisions – so, perhaps she must have convinced them to back off, most likely with some files on her phone, explaining why she needs it back. The fact that she knows my name indicates her benefactor would most likely be a demigod…could it be…Moriarty?

'I'm listening.'

'So who's after you?' he asked after he had served her some tea and called down John.

'People who want to kill me. I need that phone back, Mr Holmes.'

'I haven't finished with it quite yet.'

'I wasn't asking' she said, her voice hardening into steel. He shrugged, and threw it to her from his pocket. Adler inspected it and threw it away. 'That phone is my life, Mr Holmes, I know when it's in my hands.'

'Oh, you're rather good' Percy admired.

'You're not so bad' she said in reply huskily, dark brown eyes meeting sea green orbs.

Artemis felt a growl building up inside her as they continued staring at each other, and was just about to release it when John suddenly said, 'Hamish!'

'Sorry, I don't understand' said Percy.

'My middle name – if you were looking for baby names' the doctor said. Artemis sensed the same unfamiliar feeling as she had at Christmas again, surging forward with a vengeance. Percy blinked in confusion and passed her the real phone, though not before asking, 'What do you keep on there?'

'On this phone, I've got secrets that could topple the entire mortal world' she smiled. She passed the phone back to him. 'I know a man – a US government official, and I knew what he liked – one thing he liked particularly was showing off. He told me that this was going to save the world; he didn't know it then but I took a photo of it. It's a bit small on that screen, can you read it?'

'Yes.'

'A code, obviously. I had one of the best cryptographers in the country take a look at it – though he was mostly upside down, as I recall. Couldn't figure it out. What can you do, Perseus Jackson?' she breathed into his ear. 'Go on. Impress a girl.'

At this point, Artemis' hands were clenched tightly into fists; she suspected that had it not been for Percy's complete obliviousness to her advances, she would have blasted Adler several minutes ago. I still might, she thought darkly. As she glanced around the room, she realised it seemed too small, too suffocating. I need to get out, she decided. Artemis nodded at John. 'It's been a pleasure, Doctor Watson' she said curtly as she stood to leave. 'It seems though that I'll have to finish my conversation with Perseus another time.'

As Artemis left, Percy's head shot up, and he started speaking rapidly, 'There's a margin for error but I'm pretty sure there's a Boeing Seven Forty-Seven leaving JFK tomorrow at six thirty in the evening. Apparently it's going to save the world. Not sure how that can be true but give me a moment; I've only been on the case for eight seconds.'

Irene and John exchanged shocked glances, even as Percy passed the phone to his doctor. Let's see what you make of it, Percy gestured. John sighed and took in the letters and numbers floating on the screen.

007 Confirmed allocation

4C12C45F13E13G60A60B61F34G34J60D12H33K34K

After a few minutes had passed, John finally looked up, catching Percy's eye. 'Got it' he announced. He took in a deep breath and launched right into his explanation: 'There's no letter 'I' because it can be mistaken for a '1'; no letters past 'K' – the width of the plane is the limit. The numbers always appear randomly and not in sequence but the letters have little runs of sequence all over the place – families and couples sitting together. Only a jumbo is wide enough to need the letter 'K' or rows past fifty-five, which is why there's always an upstairs. There's a row thirteen, which eliminates the more superstitious airlines. Assuming an American point of origin, which would be logical considering the original source of the information and assuming from the increased pressure on you lately that the crisis is imminent, the only flight that matches all the criteria and departs within the week is a flight from JFK at six thirty in the evening.'

Percy stood up and nodded at Adler as he said, 'Please don't feel obliged to tell me that was remarkable or amazing. I'm fairly certain John's expressed the same thought in every possible variant available to the English language.'

'I would have you right here on this desk until you begged for mercy twice' Irene smiled, taking a step closer towards the taller consulting detective.

'I've never begged for mercy in my life.'

'Twice' Irene Adler smirked. As Percy moved away, she began typing blind on her phone.

Jim Moriarty raised an eyebrow as he read the text he had just received:

747 tomorrow 6:30PM JFK

He grinned to himself. Ms Adler came through. He started typing a message to the elder Holmes – how disappointed would he be with his younger 'brother'?, he wondered, and giggled.

Jumbo jet. Dear me, Mr Holmes, dear me.

-Percy's New York residence, during the evening-

John had just departed to escort Sally back to her apartment when Irene slipped close to Percy, smiling at him invitingly. 'Have you ever had anyone?' she asked him directly. 'And when I say "had", I mean it in an indelicate way.'

'I don't understand.'

'Well, I'll be delicate then' Irene shrugged, coming even closer towards him; as she adopted a kneeling position in front of him, she reached out and put her hand on top of his. 'Let's have dinner.'

'I'm not hungry.'

'That's good, because I'm not either' she breathed into his ear.

Hesitantly, Percy leaned forward and turned his hand over, subtly curling his fingers around her wrist. 'Why would I want to have dinner…if I wasn't hungry?' he stalled as his synapses started to fire. Elevated pulse, dilated pupils, slight flush to cheeks, arched back to accentuate…feminine assets…licking and biting lips to accentuate them as well…clear signs of sexual attraction he noted clinically.

'Oh, Perseus Jackson…,' she sighed, eyes fixed entirely on his face, '…if it was the end of the world, if this was the very last night, would you have dinner with me?'

What Percy might have said in reply, he would never know, because right after she said that, someone started knocking – banging, really – insistently on the front door. 'Sherlock!' they called out. 'Sherlock!'

Irked, Irene moved out of the way and let Percy pass to the entrance hallway; from the small peephole set into the door, he could make out Lestrade along with Anderson and Donovan. 'What are you doing here?' he demanded as he opened the door. 'Aren't you supposed to be trying to solve crimes back in London?'

'We were sent by your brother' Lestrade cut in before Anderson and Donovan could say anything. 'He-'

'So you're my – my handler, now, or something?' he scoffed. 'Tell Mycroft that as much as I appreciate his concern, he really shouldn't be wasting national resources on little old me. Good eveni-'

'He said to give this to you, and to meet him at JFK' Lestrade interrupted, passing him an envelope. Curious, Percy tore it open, blinking as he saw its contents – an economy boarding pass for Flyaway Airlines in the name of Sherlock Holmes. As he continued scanning, more details leapt out at him – it was for the very same flight that he had given Irene Adler just a few hours earlier. Curious and curiouser.

'Very well' he said finally.

-JFK International Airport-

Percy raised an eyebrow as he saw the corpses seated inside the plane. His mind started firing away immediately: why are there corpses on a flight? Obviously, it's because the USA wishes for certain parties to believe that there are real, live people on this flight, but why, why? Unbidden, his mind leapt back to his journey from his house to the airport; he could vaguely recall that in the distance was the World Trade Centre...ah, I see, terrorist hijacking? No, they would notice that the passengers are corpses instantly…so a bomb then, exploding during flight.

'Conventry' Mycroft said from behind him. 'Neat, don't you think?'

'How's the plane going to fly?' Percy wondered, before immediately answering his own question: 'of course, unmanned aircraft, hardly new.'

'I'm afraid, Sherlock, that it is never going to fly' Mycroft said casually. 'This entire project is cancelled. The terrorist cells have been informed that we know about the bomb. We can't fool them now. We've lost everything. One fragment of one email, and months and years of planning finished.'

'The US government official.'

'That's all it takes,' Mycroft smiled humourlessly, 'one lonely man desperate for company, and a woman clever enough to make him feel special.'

'I suppose the US should vet their officials more thoroughly then.'

'I'm not talking about that man Sherlock, I'm talking about you' Mycroft said loudly – furiously, even. Percy took a step back – never in all the years that he had known Mycroft Holmes had he seen Mycroft so unhinged.

'I-I don't understand,'

'Don't you? This was textbook… the promise of love, the pain of loss, the joy of redemption; then give him a puzzle…and watch him dance.'

'Don't be absurd' Percy spat out. 'I am not given to outbursts of sentiment.'

'Aren't you? What do you call getting back into contact with them Sherlock?'

'I had no choice' Percy growled out. Since he knows that I have re-established contact with the gods, it goes without saying then that he was monitoring me since I left for New York – Lestrade is probably my handler given his special forces background prior to joining Scotland Yard…I'm not sure where Anderson and Donovan come in though.

'And if you aren't given to outbursts of sentiment, brother dear, then do tell me this: How quickly did you decipher that email for her? Was it even a full minute, or were you really eager to impress?'

'I think it was less than five seconds' Irene Adler called out, casually leaning against a seat; the Holmes brothers had been so embroiled in their argument, they hadn't even noticed The Woman sneak in.

'I drove you into her path. I'm sorry' Mycroft said to Percy eventually. 'I didn't know.'

'I believe we have things to discuss, Mr Holmes' Adler said coolly.

'So do I' Percy said in reply.

'Not you, junior, I'm done playing with you now' she dismissed, holding up her phone for Mycroft's inspection. 'There's more…so much more. On this phone I have collected secrets that could topple your whole world. You have no idea how much havoc I can cause and exactly one way to stop me – unless, of course, you want to tell your superiors that your biggest security leak is your own little brother.'

-British Consulate General, New York-

Irene smiled at Mycroft Holmes across the very literal negotiating table, her camera phone twinkling at Mycroft mockingly from the tabletop. After several minutes of silence, Mycroft pointed to the phone. He said, 'We have people who can get into this and extract the files.'

'I tested that for you; I gave it to the great Sherlock Holmes for Christmas' Irene dismissed, shaking her head in mock sadness. 'Or…perhaps I should call him Perseus Jackson?' she smiled, grin only widening as she took in Mycroft's shock. 'Percy, dear, do tell him what you found when you inspected my phone.'

'There are four additional units wired inside the casing, I suspect containing acid or a small amount of explosive – more likely to be explosive.'

'Some data is already recoverable' Mycroft tried, whilst at the same time he beamed at Percy, brother dear, surely you have some way out of this?

Working on it, Percy sent back, just stall and keep her talking.

'Do you really want to take that risk?'

'You have a passcode to open this. I deeply regret to say we have people who can extract it from you.'

'Percy?'

'There will be two passcodes: one to open the phone, one to burn the drive. Even under duress you can't know which one she's given you and there will be no point in a second attempt.'

'He makes a rather good pet, doesn't he? I should keep him on a leash – in fact, I just might' Irene giggled, gazing at him intensely. Too intensely, Percy released. The gears of his mind began spinning faster than ever. Surely not. And yet…her gaze…perhaps…

'We destroy this, then no one has the information' Mycroft said.

'Oh, I wouldn't do that…especially with the lives of British citizens at stake.'

'Are they?'

'Telling you would be playing fair; I'm not playing now' Adler smiled. Reaching into her handbag, she slid out a sheet of paper across the table to Mycroft. 'A list of my…requests, and some ideas about my protection once they've been granted' she said, motioning to the document.

'You've been…very thorough' Mycroft complimented reluctantly. 'I wish our people were half as good as you'. Perseus, you better have some way to get us out of this mess, he added.

'Oh, I can't take all of the credit' she admitted. 'By the way, Jim Moriarty sends his love' Irene said, jerking her head at Percy. I see, I am now quite sure of the fact that she contacted Moriarty to fake her death; he sent the Cyclopes towards her residence, possibly with a hostage to act as Adler's stand-in, switching any records that would be used to identify her 'corpse' with the soon-to-be-deceased; this little performance was how the two of them convinced almost everyone that she was dead, ending my pursuit of her; however, someone must have discovered she was still alive and tried to hunt her down – that's why she engineered this entire situation, she wanted protection from whoever's hunting her! Since she seems to know about my real name, it's not too far of a stretch to assume that she also knows about my demigod status – in fact, I'm certain of it; she thus probably also knows information about Moriarty, perhaps even Chase, who is almost certainly the person who informed him about me in the first place, as she is one of the very few people who even calls me that stupid nickname…I need to leverage this situation.

'He gave me a lot of advice about how to play the Holmes boys…do you know what he calls you?' Adler continued. 'The Iceman…' she pointed at Mycroft, '…and The Virgin. He didn't even ask for anything; I think he just likes to cause trouble - now that's my kind of man.'

'And here you are: the dominatrix who brought the United Kingdom to its knees. Nicely played' Mycroft rumbled. Perseus, whatever it is you're thinking about, hurry up now! his 'brother' commanded.

'No' Percy said suddenly, as everything fell into place in his mind; why she had kept making advances towards him, why she had seemed amused, yet almost disappointed at his inability to unlock her phone.

'Sorry?' she asked, flashing him a patronising smile.

'I said no. Very, very close, but no – you got carried away; your game was too elaborate – you were enjoying yourself too much.'

'There's no such thing as too much.'

'Oh, enjoying the thrill of the chase is fine, craving the distraction of the game – I sympathise entirely – but sentiment? Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side.'

'Sentiment? What are you talking about?'

'You.'

Adler flashed him another condescending smile as she said, 'Oh dear God. Look at the poor man. You don't actually think I was interested in you? Why? Because you're the great Sherlock Holmes, the clever detective in the funny hat?'

Percy grinned right back at her – at least, he claimed it was a grin, it was more like a wolf baring its teeth at its prey before it lunged in for the kill. He moved closer to her, fingers delicately curling around her wrist as he leaned in towards her ear. 'No…' he whispered. 'Because I took your pulse. Elevated; your pupils dilated'. Reaching over to pluck her phone from the table, he continued a little more loudly, 'I imagine that people think love's a mystery to me, but the chemistry is incredibly simple, and very destructive. I read somewhere that disguise is always a self-portrait – how true of you, the combination to your safe, your measurements, but this' he held up the phone, 'this is far more intimate. This is your heart…'

His fingers danced across the screen. The familiar mocking security lock screen lit up; I AM - - - - LOCKED

He punched in the first character. '…and you should never let it rule your head' he continued. 'You could have chosen any random number and walked out of here today with everything you've worked for…'

He punched in the second character, sea green oceans now entirely fixed upon her own dark pools; her breathing grew a little heavier as she realised that he knew.

'…but you just couldn't resist it, could you? For a very long time now, I've assumed that love is a dangerous disadvantage…'

The third character; tears seemed to be coming to her eyes.

'Thank you for the final proof.'

As he made to add the final character, she seized his hand desperately and took a step closer, looking at him pleadingly.

'Everything I said – it wasn't real' she told him. 'I was just playing the game' she whispered.

'I know' he whispered back, leaning in towards her ear again; 'And this is just losing' he breathed out. Gently pulling his hand out of her grasp, he put in the fourth and final character, and turned the screen towards her:

I AM S-H-E-R-LOCKED

Irene Adler could do nothing but look on in despair as he passed the phone to his brother with a brief apologetic murmur. As Percy made to leave, he tossed over his shoulder, 'If you're feeling kind, lock her up; otherwise let her go. She won't survive long without her protection.'

'Are you expecting me to beg?'

'No, Ms Adler. I expect you to die' he said, as he began to stride out – always did want to say that – then paused in the doorway. 'Sorry about dinner.'

-That night, New York Harbour-

Irene Adler hurried to the cargo ship – not exactly glamorous, but when someone was on the run from the people she was, speed was of the essence. As she set foot onto the deck, she caught sight of two men lounging about – her smugglers, presumably. As she reached into her handbag to pay them, they suddenly moved and attacked her, knocking her to the ground.

When Adler finally came to, she found her legs tied to a plastic chair, staring down two gun barrels. 'Any last requests?' a gunman demanded in a thick accent. 'Personally, I would have just shot you, but our leader insists on allowing people last requests.'

'A – a text message, please' Irene said after a moment, resigned to her fate. She smiled as she thought of Perseus Jackson, the one man who had ever managed to completely captivate her. Goodbye, Mr Holmes, she typed and sent. She stared straight ahead, eyes open; she didn't want to give them the satisfaction of closing her eyes. Her eyes widened as she heard a low, orgasmic sigh. The ringtone she had set on Percy Jackson's phone after she had knocked him out in London, she realised. But why was he here? Her question was answered when her captors suddenly slumped over from blows to the back of their heads, and she found herself staring at two impossibly deep green eyes.

'Tell me everything you know, about the man named Jim Moriarty, and the woman named Annabeth Chase. In return, I will give you protection and sanctuary' he demanded. 'That's the price of your life.'

Her eyes widened. If he finds out, he will definitely hunt me down personally…but if I don't, then I will most certainly die here, and this man is not the kind that will make this offer again. Irene Adler nodded to herself, and made her decision.

Response to reviews:

Guest- Perhaps Moriarty is, perhaps he is not :). You'll just have to wait and see!

Guest, Paura Nightshade- I feel rather flattered, I shall do my best do not let you all down!

Author's note: I changed my mind and decided to collide Percy and the mythical world together one chapter earlier; I felt it best to do this sooner than I had planned due to - well, you don't need to know about that just yet! :P

Many thanks to readers for their ongoing support of this work, and hopefully within the week another chapter of The Rise of the Consultant Hero will be posted (going through writer's block at the moment, but it will pass). As ever, suggestions for canon cases would be greatly appreciated, I'm going to need three or four quite soon, so if there's any Sherlock Holmes story by Doyle that you would particularly wish to see adapted (excluding the ones mentioned in chapter 3 or 4, I forget which one it was), please leave a review stating the story - or send me a PM. I am also still looking for a beta reader; please PM me if you are interested :). In concluding, please read and review, and tell me what you thought of this chapter :).

Ever yours,

ApocalypticPhoenix