Sooooo - sorry for the long wait but I had kind of a writer's block and I'm currently on holidays, so... Anyway, this chapter and the next one are already written, and I'm currently planning the next one, so I hope we'll get there soon.

Just to make it easier for you to understand - I have updated the timeline, it might help you (hopefully). Secondly, the last chapter described the 18th of February. Watch out for the dates, otherwise it won't make sense!

Now - enjoy!

10th March 2013 - Mycroft's POV:

The man in front of him is breathing steadily, slowly, in and out, and slowly sips his tea. It is disturbing how normal, if a little posh he looks, thinks Mycroft, how different to the person he was when they tried to capture him for the first time.

Finally, James Maynard puts down his cup and intwines his fingers, looking at Mycroft carefully.

"Well? What can I do for you, Mr Holmes?" He questions, looking sure of himself, as if it was him interrogating a prisoner, not Mycroft.

It is hard not to react to the manipulative behaviour, but, as he is proud to be able to say, there is a reason why Mycroft is called the iceman. Tilting his head to the side slightly, he looks over the criminal once again, scrutinising the man.

He is not as relaxed as he tries to look. The slight tension in his fingers, the barely visible narrowing of his eyes give him away.

"Tell me everything you know about the network which once belonged to the late Moriarty, and now to Sebastian Moran."

It is a risk to ask that question, he knows. To threaten the criminal with things like torture or mind games is useless, it is clear that he'll try that anyway. But maybe, he'll answer. And whatever he does, he'll give Mycroft an opening.

"Oh, I will." Maynard sounds so assured, so confident, that the politician raises an eyebrow questioningly.

"I will tell you anything you want to know – if it's Kiara who's asking. I'll answer her every question."

How is it that Maynard not only has such an effect on Kiara, but also knows how and when to use it? There is no real way out, the probability that he'll answer Mycroft now are minimal.

Storing the answer away in his mind for later thought, he concentrates on what he can ask with the chance of an answer.

"What happened between you and Kiara? What have you done to her?" His voice is steady, but for the first time Maynard sits up and looks at him with an interested sparkle in his eyes.

"She doesn't know you are asking me this, does she?" He asks, unlacing his fingers to put his hands together in front of his lips in a gesture so similar to Sherlock's that Mycroft frowns.

"Hasn't told you anything, and you want to know why."

"She hasn't said a word. Hides it even from herself." There is no point in lying, especially as Kiara will never see Maynard again, Mycroft wants to make sure of it.

"Again, I will answer every single one of Kiara's questions. But what happened is something she needs to tell you herself. It is a matter of trust, anyway." Mycroft looks at the man for another moment, ignoring the little jab. It is clear he won't get anything out of him for the moment, or this way, so there is no reason why he is still here.

Taking up the tea service, he nods lightly at the criminal and leaves. He still feels the stare of Maynard on his back when he is back home, walking from the garage to the house.

17th March 2013 - Kiara's POV:

"What have you done?" Mycroft storms into my room, his suit slightly creased, frowning.

I am just getting changed, luckily already in bra and jeans, searching for a top to wear. Awake enough to realise the situation quickly, I don't turn around. It's not as if he hasn't seen me in a sports-bra before, but that were different conditions. Besides, Mycroft looks pretty surprised as well – even though he must have known I'd be up. Or did he intend to wake me up?

"My – give me two minutes, okay?" He nods quickly, stumbling out of the door hurriedly, and I can't help but think about Father's names for them, how I got to know them. The iceman and the virgin. Mycroft and Sherlock. But doesn't fit virgin to Mycroft as well in a way? And is Sherlock not an iceman, now and then?

I find the top I was looking for and pull it over my head, choosing a hoody and quickly brushing my hair as well, until I open the door again.

"What's wrong?" Mycroft still looks a bit thrown of track, but he is catching on to his usual cool, collected self.

"What have you done to Maynard?" The question, that name, so early in the morning is unexpected and I flinch. We haven't spoken about him since the day Sherlock, Mycroft and some of the agents caught him. Their only comment had been a short notice to me at the dinner table, about two weeks ago.

"I – what?" I honestly have no idea what Mycroft is talking about, but he looks sceptical.

"Maynard has been found in his cell, dead. We're not sure yet what happened, but we're thinking poison, maybe suicide." I can feel my face falling. Maynard killed himself, maybe aided by someone else and instantly they think it was me – I've thought about it, I admit, but I had promised them and myself to keep out of it all.

"I haven't seen him for a month." I reply flatly, trying not to think about the day we first tried to capture Maynard. It's strange to remember how relatively relaxed and carefree I had been then, the old trauma buried deep inside me.

Mycroft looks at me for a few seconds, considering my answer, but finally nods.

"Okay. We still have a problem though – we have no lead from Moran, no idea where he is. Maynard killed himself without telling us anything."