A/N: It's Friday, which means that it's time to update. Hooray?

First, though… Thank you so much for all the reviews and love you've given this story! They really mean the world to me, you know? (HUGS)

Awkay, because I have a feeling that you'd like to go on with the story… Allons-y! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

The Value of Life

When John finally emerged from the bathroom, then from the morgue and joined Sherlock and Greg his eyes ached and his chest felt painfully tight. He took a deep breath, stealing a one more moment just for himself, then made his presence known. It was ridiculous how weak his legs were all of a sudden.

Sherlock's intense gaze scanned him all the way through, asking a lot more than any words could've. Greg gave him a worried glance. "Ready, now?" Thankfully the DI knew better than to ask if he was alright.

John nodded, not trusting his voice yet.

"Before we go back to Baker Street… We have visitors." Sherlock's eyes seemed darker than usual. "Mary caught us a Danshée."

The shock and terror were almost enough to bring John to his knees. At least it made him find his voice again. "What?! Is she…?"

"Yes, she's fine", Sherlock interrupted impatiently. Was that guilt? "But there's something you both should know…"

Donna Noble had been traveling with the Doctor for a while, now. She'd seen new planets, so many different alien races that she'd lost track, had the best and worst times of her life. She'd already assumed that it'd take quite a bit to surprise her these days.

And then she met Irene Adler.

The Woman, who had long hair that'd been dyed to a color that lingered somewhere between rich red and black, didn't seem to even notice that there was still a gun trained on her. Her posture was perfectly relaxed while she moved one of her long legs elegantly on top of the other. "So, Doctor… It's been a while", she murmured in a velvet smooth tone, eyeing on the Time Lord from underneath long lashes. Her gaze then flickered towards Donna. "I see that you've finally found yourself a new companion to play with."

Donna's left eyebrow twitched hazardously. If she hadn't been suffering from a splitting headache she would've without a doubt snarled. "Oi! I don't know what sort of games the two of you have been… playing", she growled. "But he's definitely not touching me. Ever."

Irene smirked. "Ah, a feisty one." What was that look all about? "I like her."

Mary, who'd been observing the exchange thus far with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance seemed to decide that she'd had enough. "Alright, as entertaining as this is… If you try to distract us again let me remind you that I have a roll of ducktape with me. Trust me, it definitely doesn't feel pleasant on your lips."

Irene's eyebrow arched with interest but she did keep mouth shut.

Satisfied to have the attention of those eyes off her Donna turned her gaze towards the Doctor. "Did you know about this?" she demanded. "That she's… one of them?"

The Doctor nodded, his expression infuriatingly unreadable. "I did. But to be honest… I thought that she was killed a long time ago."

Irene shrugged. "I rescued myself. The second time I was saved in Karachi by a black knight. Quite clichéd, really." She tilted her head, looking at the time traveler. "He reminds me a bit of you. So brilliant and dark, so very alone in that busy mind. Such black stars, you two." Her eyes twinkled a bit. "Such special boys. He's the only one that has ever tricked me. You were the first one who out of all the roles I've played preferred the original Danshée one."

Was the Doctor blushing?

Donna felt a unpleasant shudder go through her. Her eyes had to hold some of the disbelief she was experiencing while she stared at the Doctor. "Did you two…?!" Like she would've actually wanted to know…!

Irene smirked far from coyly, her eyes not straying from him. "Doctor Boy Scout here is far too noble for such. But a girl can dream."

The Doctor cleared his throat. He was, however, saved from any further humiliation by the sound of a door opening. In rushed three men Donna couldn't remember seeing before, grim looks on their faces. The sandy haired one of them had suspiciously red, puffy eyes and although she'd never met him she felt a instinctive need to offer a word of comfort. She held her tongue, though.

Which didn't save her from all attention being locked on her. "Who are you?" the tallest of them demanded. His face remained unreadable but there was something dangerous in his eyes.

"She's Donna, my companion", the Doctor answered, seemingly oblivious to the threat in the air. "She crashed into this particular time and place with me. She's human, just like you."

His explanation didn't diffuse the tension entirely but eased it enough to make it bearable. There was a round of hasty introductions, during which Mary and the man named John exchanged a fond smile, her gun never faltering from Irene. The simple, effortless gesture of affection brought Donna both a hint of warmth and envy.

And then Irene was the centre of attention again. The Danshée didn't seem to mind. "Well hello, stranger", she greeted Sherlock. She then glanced towards John and Mary. "Congratulations."

John didn't seem impressed in the slightest. Whatever traces of recently shed tears there'd been were long gone. "You have knack of not staying dead, don't you?"

Irene laughed and shrugged. "What can I say? Being dead is boring."

Sherlock took what looked like a protective step closer towards the smaller man. Along with quite a bit of other secrets that Donna couldn't read she was able to distinguish intrique and anger on his face. "Why were you keeping an eye on John's wife?"

"I was trying to make sure that what's left of my former pack won't attack her", Irene replied smoothly. Her eyes slid towards Mary's gun. "Now, I'd feel much more comfortable having this conversation without a firearm pointed at me."

Greg scoffed. "What, and we'd give you a chance to attack us or escape? No."

"Maybe we can arrange a compromise that'll satisfy everyone involved." Without a word Mary pulled a pair of handcuffs from the covers of her clothing. "These should do", she murmured. It was almost disturbing how much skill and experience she showed while fastening their unwilling visitor.

The Doctor simply looked on, one eyebrow arched. Greg's eyes widened to a point where it was a miracle they remained on their rightful spots. Sherlock cleared his throat, a degree of curiosity in his eyes. John's cheeks gained a mighty bit of color while he fidgeted.

Irene chuckled. "Oh, come on now, boys. Surely you've seen a bit of games between girls before?" she teased. Her tone was nothing short of purring.

Donna rolled her eyes. All of a sudden she remembered very clearly why there were so few men in her life. "Oh, for the love of…! Try not to act like a group of schoolboys for a moment, why don't you?"

Mary seemed to stiffle a laughter. The men shifted, embarrassed, until the Doctor spoke. "People are dying." Well, when he said people… "You're here because we're trying to understand what's going on."

Irene shrugged. "It's a long story", she warned them. "But then again, I'm the one of us who has all the time in the world. The dead have no rush, unless they're Sherlock Holmes."

After the supposed death of Sherlock Holmes Kitty Riley was on the top of her career. The hero reporter who exposed the true face of the detective. And then the truth became revealed, sending her whole life crumbling. The fall didn't stop to her being demoted and him walzing back to life.

It was the death of her career and very life, she mused while once again sitting in a pub. Hoping against all reason that the sharp drink in front of her would be the solution to her misery. She almost downed it until she heard a disheveled and reeking, seemingly homeless man babbling about werewolves. He wouldn't have believed it himself if he hadn't seen them attacking Harriet Watson.

Kitty's eyes flashed, right there, because suddenly she knew exactly how to resurrect herself.

"Why don't you let me buy you a drink so we can talk?" she suggested.

"As the good Doctor here knows, I've come a long way from home." For the first time Irene showed actual emotion. Even though it disappeared as fast as it appeared. "The previous time we met my planet was dying. My entire race was doomed. He tried to help us, but… Well, there's no messing with the grand plan of the universe."

The Doctor's eyes darkened. "You know why I couldn't do more." Did he still remember why?

"Yes, you told me. Yet you stayed for five days. Fought for us." Irene tilted her head, just a little. "You were still trying to figure out how to help, weren't you? You were still trying to find some way. Any way."

The Doctor nodded solemnly, looking away.

"I followed you on your last night there. When you went to see the planet's dying core." Irene mused quietly for a moment. The memory seemed to hurt. No wonder. "When I saw your eyes I knew, even without asking. The ground began to shake and grumble less than an hour after your departure. A little less than two hundred of us managed to escape." The number of all lives lost was never mentioned.

"That's how you ended up on Earth", John mused out loud.

Irene nodded. "It was a mere coincidence. This was the first habitable planet we spotted. We were hungry and desperate, running out of fuel." Her nose wrinkled and again what looked a lot like emotion appeared to her eyes. "The first humans we met… They were hostile." Her gaze swept towards John. "And your kind were helping them. We lost many more lives during those first few weeks. Those of us who survived came out stronger."

Greg's eyebrow twitched. There was some sadness for her kind in his gaze but for the time being anger outweighed it. "You mean more bloodthirsty?"

"My kind never settled in very well. We're too ferocious, too highly led by our instincts. Some of us are trying, though, using whatever methods they can to stiffle their most violent outbursts. Many still want revenge on a kindered species that betrayed us. And on humans. A lot of us have ended up into jails." Irene's eyes flashed. "And then… There were quite many like me who chose to join James Moriarty's pack."

John fell deathly pale. Mary shivered slightly. Greg gasped. Sherlock's jawline tightened to an extend that had to hurt.

"Who's James Moriarty?" Donna demanded.

"He was one of the most dangerous monsters that have ever roamed around this universe", Sherlock growled. Sounding very much not human for a long moment. His eyes narrowed dangerously. "I should've known that he couldn't be human."

The thought was overwhelming for Sherlock, really. While he'd been on his two-year exile, traveling all around the world, he hadn't been dismantling only Moriarty's web. He'd been dismantling a species.

The Doctor took a deep breath. There was a great deal of steel hard determination on his face. "Alright, then. We know what we're up against." He nodded to himself and began to pace around. "No we need to figure out a way to stop them."

"Haven't you realized it already?" Irene's face couldn't be read. "I'm truly sorry." And she really seemed to be. "But there's still a group of around twenty of Moriarty's loyal Danshées. And there's only one way to stop them." Her tone left very little to be questioned.

A frosty, sombre silence filled the room while realization dawned.

"So… Which one do you choose?" Irene's eyes darted towards them all, finally pausing on the Doctor. "Do you destroy almost all there's left of a species? Or let them keep killing the members of another, peaceful race as a punishment for the sins of their ancestors?"

Time passed by unbearably slowly while the small group tried to reach a horribly cruel decision. While they attempted to figure out how much the lives of those Danshées weighed in comparison to those that might end up being lost because of them. While they had to play the role of possibly choosing the fate of a species.

And it wasn't all that weighed Donna's mind.

She couldn't help casting glimpses towards the men who'd gathered into the kitchen with Mary. Towards Greg, who was rubbing his face exhaustedly with one hand. Towards Sherlock, who was trying so very desperately to appear nonchalant although the very air around him was screaming anguish. Towards John, who was painfully tense yet visibly more than ready to fight for everything he held dear. One of his hands kept brushing Mary's mightily swollen abdomen affectionately. The sight of the trio brought a lump to Donna's throat.

They were good people, all of them. Soon one of them would be dead. And there was nothing she could do about it.

All of a sudden she understood perfectly why the Doctor hadn't wanted to give her the name, because if she'd known…

"Are you alright?" The Doctor's voice startled her out of her thoughts. His face was the picture of grief, helpless rage and years older than mere hours before.

Donna nodded slowly. "Yeah, of course." She then nudged at him gently. "You?"

"Yes, of course."

On the spur of the moment she took his hand. Only for one, prolonged moment but still. Somehow it seemed that they both needed it.

They were maddeningly stuck, really. If they didn't stop the Danshées a lot more of John's kind would die. If they did those Danshées would lose their lives. Arresting wouldn't work. They'd only take their natural forms and cause a bloodbath. Which left them with only unthinkable options to consider.

It took longer than it should've before she was able to speak again. "Doctor… Whatever decision we reach today… It's going to be the right thing."

"We're dooming real, living beings to death, Donna!" The Doctor's voice was relatively quiet but full of storm. So were his eyes. "There's no right thing to do in this."

She had to agree.

John felt sick to his stomach while he stood in the kitchen, drawing comfort from the presence of the most important people in his life and his unborn child. Having to make decisions like this… It just wasn't fair. What right did he have to…?

Back in Afganistan he was forced to stare at all the bodies gathering around him – some of which lives he claimed personally – and decided that never again. Since then he'd followed Sherlock to the war in London and shot a cabbie to save the mad detective's life. And now there was a new battle ahead of him.

A lot of people had already died. Including his sister. And now the threat lay on both him and his family. He couldn't just stand idle.

It was time that the doctor became a soldier once more.

He wasn't entirely sure why his gaze chose to stray towards the Doctor right there. The alien looked back at him, deep and profound understanding in those impossibly old, pained eyes. It seemed that they were both facing the same mental war.

"John?" Sherlock's voice caught his attention. Anyone who didn't know the man as he did would've claimed that the expression he met was impassive. "What do you want us to do?"

Honestly, John wanted to go back in time to the moment of bliss before they found that body by Thames. But that option didn't exist. And so he looked towards Greg, the apology that was screaming in his head reaching his eyes. "You… should stay here, keep an eye on Irene." He cut the oncoming protest short. "What we're about to do… It isn't strictly speaking legal. The less you know about it the better."

It was obvious that Greg hated the idea. But there was very little the DI could do. And so, barely able to contain tears, the man folded all three of them into a huge hug, one at a time. The hold that crushed around John was unnecessarily tight. "Come back, you hear?" Greg blinked rapidly and the moisture that'd been building up into his eyes disappeared. "All of you."

John nodded stiffly, already knowing that it might be a promise he would not be able to keep.

He didn't want Sherlock to come along and risk his life. And he definitely didn't want his pregnant wife to join them. But he also knew that no matter what he did or said they'd follow him, anyway. Entirely too similar, those two.

And so the three of them joined the Doctor. The alien looked at them with a tense expression, the fake smile that lingered on his face when they first met completely gone. "So… What did you decide?"

"Irene told us where to find them. So let's go", Sherlock ordered. There was steel hard concentration in his eyes while he stormed towards the flat's door.

With their their group of five went in a solemn silence, grim looks on their faces. They all knew what they'd have to do. None of them liked it. The sick feeling in the pit of John's stomach didn't ease for even a second.

While they clambered to a cab John used the moment of distraction to send a text message.

'It's time, and I'll need your help.'

Back inside Greg took a deep breath, surprised by how much it hurt. He balled his fists upon realizing how badly his hands shook. His heart was hammering and breaking in his chest.

He'd already lost Sherlock once, and now…

"How likely is it that they'll come back alive?" he demanded, worry and downright panic sharpening his tone. There was no answer. Ice cold dread filled him while he turned as quickly as he could.

Only to discover that Irene was missing.

TBC

A/N: Soooo… What's going to happen next? How will our group handle this delicate situation? Is someone really going to die?

Comments? Thoughts? You know where to leave a note. (grins)

I REALLY need to get going now. Until next time! I really hope that you'll all join in then.

Take care!