I know, its been forever and I do apologise ... theres just been a lot of crap going on that has needed sorting! I hope you all enjoy this chapter, please give any feedback, its much appreciated! I just want to thank all my lovely readers that have reviewed and subscribed ... I love you all! ...

Disclaimer: Unfortunatly I don't own Sherlock or Watson, I just hope I can do them some justice.

Bonnie sighed and pouted, her head held in her delicate hands as she watched the rain trickle down the dirty pane of glass. The clouds rolled and a faint thunder rumbled through the thick London air, making her stomach tense up and her fragile body shook in the cold atmosphere. Glancing over her shoulder, she watched Holmes who sat beside the glowing fire, a book open and propped up on one raised knee. Tentatively she licked her lips, contemplating if she should try to break the room's comfortable silence. "What are you reading Sherlock?" The detective looked up at her from underneath his dark eyelashes. "Nothing in particular, just an old childhood favourite, 'Tour du monde en quatre-vingts jours'" Bonnie nodded, translating his perfect French in her mind "Around the world in 80 days? I used to love that book, John used to read it to me when I was a little girl and I couldn't sleep at night, he used to sneak into my bedroom when our parents were asleep, sit next to me on the bed and read to me til I fell asleep. I really missed it when John went off to medical school. I was never as close to our eldest brother as I was to him." While Bonnie had been talking Holmes had closed his book and placed it on the table beside his chair, in order to listen to her heartfelt story. "Ah yes, you must have been quite young when Watson left for medical school, around thirteen, am I correct?"

"You are correct; I had turned thirteen the day he left. I had begged him not to leave before my birthday, and he obliged, spending the day with me by the river, reading stories and eating scones and cream cakes. I remember being told off by mother because we had spoiled our dinner. Did you get along well with your brother Sherlock?" The detective snorted with humour, "No, Mycroft and I have never been at each other's level. Although I have been told we are similar, by people who don't know us well, but we are as different as Chalk and Cheese." Bonnie chuckled and moved to sit in front of the fire warming her hands and feet. "Are you cold?" Holmes asked standing from his seat and pulling a deep red blanket from the bed, bending to wrap it around her shoulders, making Bonnie's cheeks flood a bright red as his big hands gently squeezed her upper arms and his body heat enveloped her back, "It wouldn't sit well with Watson if I allowed you to catch a cold." She turned her face slightly, unaware of his proximity her forehead brushed faintly against his stubble encrusted jaw, the tough bristles bringing up a light texture rash against her delicate skin. "Mm … it …uh … wouldn't." she agreed struggling for words as she looked deep into his dark chocolate coloured eyes, her lips trembling with nerves. "Hmm" he purred, the velvety tone sending shivers down her spine, tingling all the way to her bare toes. "Sherlock, Thank you for everything, I don't know what I'd do without you and John." Sherlock looked at her from under heavily lidded eyes, one big hand pushing a stray curl from the side of her face, "It's my pleasure Bonnie, you are an intriguing, beautiful, befuddling distraction" Her cheeks turned deeper scarlet at his compliment. "Thank you Sherlock." She breathed, her heart thumping wildly in his chest. She swallowed heavily and tried to control her butterflies, as he chuckled quietly, pushing a stray curl back behind her ear.

A loud series of chimes rang out from the clock above their heads on the mantelpiece, making the pair nearly jump out of their skin. Sherlock let his eyes roll up to the golden carriage clock, taking note of the time. "You should get some rest; we will need you refreshed tomorrow." He said standing and holding his hand out to help the petite brunette up, and let her silently back to the bed, her hand still gripped tightly in his larger one. Neither said a word as the detective pulled the heavy sheets back allowing her to slide onto the soft mattress and her head to hit the pillow, her curls creating a dark halo around her head. "Where will you sleep?" She asked, her voice gaining a thick element as her body started to welcome sleep. Sherlock Holmes just smirked in reply to the question, pulling the duvet up around her body and blowing the candle beside the bed out as her eyes closed, and retreating back to his comfortable arm chair and book, his eyes occasionally flicking up from the pages to watch the young woman sleep.

"What will you be doing today? Chasing baddies? Investigating a crime scene?" Bonnie asked as she nibbled on her jam covered toast, her eyes flicking over the faces of both Holmes and Watson. Holmes grunted and turned his attention back to the paper, but Watson swallowed his mouthful of tea and answered his little sister's question, "There is very little we can do until we have any more evidence, so we are going to narrow down our suspects by going through your life and the people you have been in contact with recently. In fact we could start now, if you feel comfortable and have finished your breakfast." Bonnie ate the last corner of her toast, using the tip of her pink tongue to clean the escaped jam off of her fingers, and nodded showing she was ready. "Ok, do you want to start with everyone you've had contact back in the country?" Watson said grabbing a small notepad from a sideboard and a gold pen from his jacket pocket. "Uh, ok, where to start." Bonnie mumbled, wracking her brain to include all the people she had contact with, "How far back would you like me to go? I'm not sure I could remember everyone all the way back to our childhood, John." Sherlock looked up from is paper again, "That would be unnecessary Miss Watson, Around three years would be sufficient." Bonnie just nodded and cleared her throat beginning her list of acquaintances. "Well of course there's Aunt Ellen and Uncle George, I've lived with them for the last five years, since I finished at Madam LaFleur's girls' school, William and Christopher Thompson – they live in our village but they both left for London a few years past. Tobias and his parents that live next door, Maria of course, and our friend Lilia, Willis; Aunt Ellen and George's butler, Martha the maid and Vivienne the cook. Of course, my dear Fiancé Inigo, His parents Doctor and Mrs Walsh. Oh, and Inigo's brother Tarrent, and their close friend David Leyton" Holmes coughed and folded his paper and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and tapping his fingers together under his chin. "Did you have any enemies Miss Watson?" He asked slowly, his eyes drilling into hers, his words caused Watson to snort in amusement and shake his head, "Of course she didn't Holmes, Bonnie gets along with everyone." The detective swiftly snapped his head away from the pretty young woman in front of him to the doctor, his eyes taking on a steely element, "Evidently Watson, She has attracted an element of a negative relationship to be in this position, don't you agree?" The doctor pursed his lips and remained silent, realising he was wrong.

Bonnie sighed and shook her head gaining Holmes' attention again, "Not that I am aware of Mr Holmes, I try to stay on the positive side of polite society. Our Aunt Ellen wouldn't have it any other way." Holmes just nodded and dug his pipe out of his pocket, and put it to his lips lighting it. "However, we must conclude that the letters come from a male admirer, judging by the handwriting I'd safely say a young but educated man, perhaps a doctor, or a lawyer maybe, the lettering is clear, joined and slanted, writing like that is greatly encouraged in universities in both the city and the country." "So we need to narrow the suspects down to the men," Watson said as he crossed out the women's names he had written. "Uncle George, Doctor Walsh, Tobias's father Michael and Willis too as our suspect is young." Holmes nodded, drumming the fingers on his spare hand on the table, his fingernails making a light tapping noise. "That leaves us with five main male suspects, as it would be impossible for your fiancé Inigo to send those letters after his unfortunate demise." Bonnie bit her lip and looked at the floor. "We will have to speak to all the men we can on our suspect list. We shall do some first thing I the morning, starting with the Thompson brothers as there is a high chance they are here in London." Bonnie forced a small smile at Holmes who gently inclined his head before turning his back on the Watson siblings, his gaze focusing out of the window onto the grimy streets below.