A/N: I was minorly distracted (that's a lie, it was actually a big detour-like distraction) for an upcoming entry, and didn't manage to finish this one until now. Gameson221b, you..."you keep me right." My little tangent of thought was reigned in from the realm of "Nope, not going to post that" back to the proper plot thanks in large part to your recent review. Koram852, thank you for helping me reason my way to the other side of that tangent. And for your insight to matters relating to content... Everyone, please enjoy!

Disclaimer: Okay, I understand. Really, honestly and completely, it is not mine. The franchise is huge, are you kidding? No one person could own that!

Still Monday, again.

I swear, it feels like someone's following me. Every phone on this street has rung as I near it, be it a public call box or business. And then, when I pass by, it stops.

The first few times, I dismissed it as coincidence. But...every phone! Maybe I'm being paranoid again...

If it happens one more time, I'm going to answer it. Just to see.

So, I've just been kidnapped. Very civilly done, too. Like I said, I answered the next call box to ring. I watched as CCTV cameras spun at the supposed command of the voice on the other end of the line. Though, if he thought that would unnerve me, he had another thing coming.

It wasn't worth my arguing when he told me to get into the car that pulled up at the street. The way I saw it, I would get a free ride, and—as it turned out—I got to sit next to a very pretty...and rather inattentive lady.

For clandestine meetings, this guy knew his stuff. He didn't follow the stereotypical protocols shown in movies. I didn't even have my eyes covered. I freely looked out the window, mapping the roads we took.

But, I knew that freedom was just for show. It was nothing to silence someone if you didn't want them blabbing about where you'd gone. Personal experience...

He chose a secluded space, a warehouse in the waterfront district. The night crew had probably been paid to be scarce. If this guy had the kind of power to control city surveillance cameras, then the security systems in the warehouse would have been easily deactivated.

I wasn't sure what to expect from this impromptu meeting. So, I took it as I did most of my work for the service...one moment at a time.

The instant I stepped out of the car, I was inordinately aware. A man stood a few paces off waiting for our arrival, leaning on an umbrella. Except, he wasn't leaning on it. He was standing with one ankle crossed over the other, perfectly balanced. If he had been there five minutes or an hour, I doubted there would have been a noticeable difference.

The condescending prick had the nerve to offer me a chair. He lifted the end of the umbrella and pointed, as if I were too stupid to notice the piece of furniture sitting in the middle of the damp yard. First, I'm not blind and the leg really wasn't bothering me right then. Second, I would put myself at a disadvantage if I had done. And I knew far too well that it was easy to be garroted from behind when seated. If I were to sit, I may as well slit my own throat.

He stood on both feet once I had got across that I wouldn't be sitting.

His mannerisms and jaunty attitude gave me the impression that very little mattered to him. But, I was getting on his nerves...the too quick responses and the dismissive laughter gave him away. He was used to controlling other people. But, I wasn't playing his games, and he didn't like that.

"What is your connection to Sherlock Holmes?"

Connection? There wasn't one. I hadn't even made a decision about the flat yet...not vocally, anyway.

This person was under the impression that I had already packed up my bags and moved in. And was partnering Sherlock in solving murders...I guess he didn't see that Sherlock had left me behind at the crime scene.

My phone chimed, and would you guess that the subject of our conversation had texted me? I hadn't really been in contact with anyone on this phone. Even Harry rarely called... And yet, Sherlock texted me. I don't know why, but the fact makes me very glad.

"I hope I'm not distracting you."

He wasn't distracting me at all. I still wasn't listening to him. He kept going on...actually thinking that he had an impact on whether I chose to be Sherlock's friend. Too late. When Mike introduced us and made that flippant remark... "He's always like that." The moment Sargent Donovan tried to warn me off... "Stay away from Sherlock Holmes." No one could tell me he wasn't worth it...

"I worry about him. Constantly."

As innocent as that sounded, it felt like a threat. And I suddenly felt the need to check on Sherlock, personally. To make sure that he was safe.

A second chime sounded...

"If inconvenient, come anyway. SH"

I tried to be rational. I told myself that if he had the ability to text, he was fine. But the wording...the fact it was the second text inside of a minute...the conversation with this "arch-enemy"...my logic wasn't processing. I was beginning to worry.

"You're very loyal very quickly."

Not actually. I never said I trusted him. I don't trust anyone.

What do I know about him? He's a consulting detective. He assists the police when they are in over their heads. He has a dotting landlady, an insatiable curiosity...and, dare I say, a temper. He doesn't like being told he's wrong.

And he likes showing off.

Not that I mind. He is brilliant...fantastic.

And he is by far the most honest person I have ever met.

But I don't really know him, do I?

"Trust issues...it says here."

I felt my stomach sink, and everything became very still. It had been...just a few days since my meeting with E. She had written exactly those words...And suddenly the bare office she kept made a lot more sense.

Well. Now I really am done going to therapy. No amount of talking would fix my limp, and I didn't want any of my other issues exposed to this man... If he was a threat to Sherlock, I would not be the weak spot to get to him.

"You're not haunted by the war, Doctor Watson. You miss it. Welcome back."

The greeting was unsettling. I got the feeling I was supposed to know who he was... But I didn't have time to think about it. My phone went off again.

"Could be dangerous. SH"

It was the danger that caught my attention. Maybe my mystery kidnapper was right. Maybe my purpose was still as a soldier. Only now, I would be fighting a different kind of war.

"Time to choose a side, Doctor Watson."

On my next breath, I made a decision. I could trust him. I would trust him. I would trust Sherlock Holmes.

I made my way back to the car. If Sherlock was asking me to battle, I would go prepared. That gun still waited for me in my desk drawer.

A/N: Please let me know your thoughts, you know I like to hear from you!