So here's chapter 71! I had planned to wrap this stoy up before I come back home (I was on holidays - can you believe it, the last time I was on holidays in England I started this story) and I'm currently in France, stopping before going further to Germany tomorrow, so no, not going to happen. You'll have to bear with me for a bit longer, I'm afraid - even though there is not that much more to come :)

I know I said this was still a happy chapter, well it didn't quite turn out the way I planned, but happier than what is to come. Not sure what next chapter is going to be about exactly yet though...

As a shameless self-promo, I'm also on tumblr as heroandsociopath, even though I'll be changing my url soon, probably to selflesshunter. As you can probably see, I'm more in the Spn fandom now, so my blog is mainly Spn - I'll finish this story before any Spn ones though (and I have like, three plots already planned out, even though I'll never write them probably).

So yeah. Basically that's it. I'm guessing eight or nine chapters more chapters, but I'm not sure - I might hit the eighty chapters!

Sherlock does indeed answer me only a few seconds after I flip the switch of the water kettle. For the first time I realise what that means and I can't help but smile. Dr Watson, who is Sherlock's best friend, doesn't get this treatment, this dropping everything when I call. I know it's born from necessity, but still – it shows how much I do mean to him, even though he doesn't show it.

Looking down at Sherlock's reply, I see something else. He signs his text differently now. I'm used to the JH for John Harrison, in case our messages get intercepted or someone gets hold of my phone, but now he wrote something else:

I'll be there soon. - SH

Of course, it's only logical to use his real initials now, but it shows once again how different things are now.

We are safe now, there is no one chasing us any more – no Moran who is breathing down our necks, no criminals who come into My's house and try to kill us.

But there is nothing keeping us together any more either. Sherlock lives at Baker Street now, has done so for a week now, after coming back to life nine days ago.

Mycroft and Sherlock don't communicate really, there isn't that much annoyance in their voices when they do in comparison to the first time I met Mycroft, but I can already hear it's less than it used to be.

I usually sleep at Mycroft's, still, but once here at Baker Street as well, stealing Sherlock's bed, who didn't sleep anyway. The next day when I went home I could see how tired Mycroft was. Even though we took the web down, the memories are still there and so are the nightmares.

Home. It's strange that I think that of Mycroft's house now, but on the other hand, I have lived there for little more than a year.

But what now? This week I have distracted myself with video games and reading, sometimes stuff which I have never found interest in before, but actually, Dr Watson's books are quite interesting. But this life, this relaxed, safe, legal freedom is something that is getting on my nerves. I had always thought I'd take over Father's network, but since I started working with Sherlock and Mycroft, I had mostly banned thoughts about the future from my mind, concentrating on the goal at hand. Now I've got nothing and it scares me.

"Kiara?" Dr Watson's voice pulls me from my thoughts and I realise the kettle has long switched off and started turning cold again.

"Are you okay?" I turn around to see him coming into the kitchen, a friendly, but slightly concerned smile on his face.

"I – I'm fine. Just lost in thoughts." I smile tightly, feeling guilty for shutting myself off despite his friendly and open manner, but I can't help it. He is nice, but I don't really know him, and therefore don't really trust him. It has nothing to do with him, it's just me keeping myself safe. But my fears are something not even Mycroft knows about, so how can I tell Dr Watson?

I turn around again and flip the switch once again, this time concentrating on the sounds of the kettle to keep myself focused.

Not long after the tea is ready and I take it out to the living room Sherlock arrives, and it actually makes me wonder how long I really was thinking.

As he puts his coat away, I get up to greet him. I don't hug him or anything, I simply touch his shoulder and smile when he looks at me.

"Hi. Tea?" I ask, expecting the eye roll and grinning when he does it, but he does nod. This time, making another cup doesn't take long and I grab a coke for me from the fridge as well.

Dr Watson told me Sherlock once kept a human head in there, now there are only a heart and some fingers. Apparently Dr Watson has given in slightly, on the first day he strictly told Sherlock not to put anything that wasn't food in there.

Lestrade leaves about half an hour later. He smiles warily when I reach out with my hand, waiting for him to shake it, just in front of the door.

"You're not going to do any tricks, are you?" He asks, but I can hear he's joking, especially when he confirms it by taking my hand.

I laugh and look him up and down once.

"I kept my side of the deal – I'm not kidnapping you this time. You're not wearing a tie, though." He looks down as well and grins.

We let go off each other hands, him starting to turn away, but there is still something else I need to tell him.

"Detective Inspector." He looks at me again, and this time, I am serious.

"I'm sorry about the last two times we met. I can't excuse the first time, apart from wanting to get away, but the second time was necessary. I wanted to talk to you in private, without anyone else listening in.

And you asked, then, who the bystander was. Do you know by now?" He just looks at me for a second then shakes his head.

"We haven't found any ID, we couldn't identify him by fingerprints or dental records, no one came in to identify him. We dropped the case after Mycroft told us he'd take over. He obviously didn't." I smile at the last sentence.

"No, the case was closed for us. That bystander was Henry Scottson, he was one of the top five men in Father's web. He was the one who made me shoot Sherlock -" At this point, Dr Watson turns his head around so quickly I fear he got whiplash and looks at me, wide eyed.

"What?" He asks, completely surprised and shocked, but I ignore him for the moment.

"- and he was getting ready to kill you."