I was asked for another chapter and since I don't have many up with this story I thought I'd oblige. Hope you guys enjoy it! :)
When John told Sherlock that the woman in question had been in Mycroft's building, that he followed her and she had, for lack of a more reasonable explanation, vanished after turning down an alley he expected Sherlock to rush back into the building, demand camera footage, a name, to interrogate anyone who associated with her, including Mycroft. What he didn't expect was what happened after his friend inspected the alley. The excited handclap followed by an exclamation that always meant trouble, Oh! It's Christmas!
Before he could question his friend, Sherlock headed out of the alley and hailed the first cab. John climbed in after him, Sherlock told the driver to take them to 221 Baker Street, and then sat back, gazing out the window.
"She was in Mycroft's building. There's bound to be camera footage," John suggesting, thinking that his friend may have overlooked that in his initial excitement.
"And let my brother get wind of her? That's out of the question," Sherlock replied.
"Wait. But when we left the restaurant you were sure she was working for him."
Sherlock continued to gaze out the window, but an irritated look crossed his features.
"My initial assessment of the situation was inaccurate," the detective replied.
"You were wrong?" John asked.
It did happen, on occasion and always drove his friend round the bend.
"But what about the camera feed? That was the whole reason you thought it was Mycroft," he continued.
At that his friend caught his eye and smiled, one of those rare genuine smiles.
"She's good." John raised his brow. "Don't you see?" Sherlock asked, sitting forward, but he had no idea what his friend was going on about. "It's her. All of it. I must have noticed something in that restaurant. Something that led me to her."
"What do you think it was?"
Sherlock chuckled sitting back.
"I've no idea."
Sherlock focused his attention back out the window, allowing John and the cab to fade into the background. After John's description of the blonde and the man she accompanied out of the building he realized who she was. The PA in Mycroft's office. He went back over everything that happened in that room after he entered and came to three conclusions. Mycroft didn't know her. His brother hadn't even picked up that she wasn't who she pretended to be, but then she was background, intentionally so. Her accidental run in with Anthea happened during her attempt to flee the room upon seeing Sherlock, something she hadn't expected and had momentarily thrown her off her game. He wished he'd taken the time to evaluate her more, but he'd been focused on Mycroft, believing his brother to be the one behind his memory loss.
He had, however, evaluated the business associate, company head, something to do with satellites, from the papers he glanced on his brother' s desk. He had a clear image of the man in his mind. A quick search on the internet should turn up the man's name and the company. Then he could pay the man a visit and, if he was lucky, he might catch her there.
Rose was wrapping things up with Trevor, who wasn't happy when she mentioned that Sherlock Holmes might come snooping around trying to find out about her. She didn't explain everything, just told her friend that she piqued his interest.
"You have to be careful, Rose," Trevor said. "I've heard about him. He's like a bloodhound."
She grinned at that.
"He's got no way of tracking me," she replied.
He cocked his brow.
"If that were true we wouldn't be having this conversation."
"If he finds anyone it'll be you."
"If I didn't love you I'd say you were more trouble than you're worth," he replied. She paused, raising her brow. He seemed to catch his slip, hand going to the back of his neck. "No…um…what I meant to say was…" His eyes shifted around the room nervously. "He's here." Trevor pointed at the far wall.
Rose glanced in that direction, at the camera monitors as Sherlock walked into the building with another bloke, bit shorter with sandy hair. Wait. She'd seen him when she was leaving Mycroft's building. He held the door for her. Bollocks!
They stopped at reception and a moment later headed over to the lifts. This was bad really extremely not good, her mind snapped. Brilliant! Somehow she had to get him out of that building, not only that she had to get him to stay away from that building. His inquiries could draw Mycroft there and that man wasn't just TROUBLE he was DANGEROUS, HIGHLY DANGEROUS.
"Okay," she said, snapping into defense mode. She hurried over to Trevor's desk and sat down at his computer. "I can reroute the power in your building through here." She began typing on the keyboard.
"Wait. What're you doing?" Trevor asked.
"Hopefully averting a crisis," she replied and then glanced at the camera feed. The doors slid open. Sherlock and his friend stepped in and a moment later the doors slid shut. She waiting until it started moving then she shut the power down to the lift. She watched the feed from the lift, grinning at their bewildered looks.
The bloke turned out to be Trevor Premier, head of a local up and coming technology company. John walked over to the lift with Sherlock after they found out which floor held Mr. Premier's office. His friend was good, getting the information with a ruse of having been sent over by Mycroft to pick up some paperwork that had to do with their earlier meeting.
Sherlock pushed the button for the seventh floor after they got into the lift. The doors slid shut. The lift started to move and then abruptly stopped. John pushed the button. Nothing.
"What was that?" he asked and found his friend smiling.
"I believe our presence has been detected," Sherlock replied.
A moment later a woman's voice filled the interior of the lift.
"Busy afternoon?" she asked, but instead of waiting for a reply she continued. "This must be the famous Doctor Watson."
John glanced at his friend and noted the way his smile slipped, which made the doctor grin.
"Um…yes, John actually," he said. "And you are?"
"If you like," she replied. "I have a few…things to attend to. Shouldn't take more than a few minutes and then we can chat."
"A few minutes then," he said, glancing at Sherlock and taking in the irritated look his friend wore, telling him it was going to be a very long few minutes.
Rose stood up after her brief conversation with John, even thinking the name twinged a bit because it reminded her of everything that was back in another universe, everything she'd lost, but she pushed those feelings aside as she glanced at Trevor.
"Get Jax to the safe house. If things go well he'll only have to stay a week. He can finish up that project from there. It's fully equipped," she said.
"What're you going to do about them?" Trevor asked.
"I'm going to try reasoning with them."
She wasn't sure what she would do if it didn't work, but she put that thought aside as Trevor hurried out of the room. She pulled her phone and texted Jax two words, Canary Wharf, words that only held meaning to her in this universe and meant that something went wrong and he was being taken to the safe house, same way something went wrong and her dad had saved her. Then she slid her phone into her pocket, pulled out the transporter, snapped it on her wrist, got the lift moving again, heading to her destination, and teleported to the underground parking garage, glad that she hadn't retrieved Frank from her flat after that meeting with Mycroft, Frank being the whole reason the detective became interested in the first place.
Sherlock pushed the irritation he felt at her mention of the famous Doctor Watson aside. What mattered was finding her and getting to the truth. Finding out how she erased his memory and why. The lift began to move, indicating their meeting was about to begin. A moment later the doors opened on the underground parking garage and he stepped out. A strange, high pitched warbling noise drew his attention and the lift doors closed before John could join him.
"No offense to your friend, but I prefer private meetings," her voice reached him, indicating she wasn't too far off from his position.
He turned around walking further into the dimly lit area. He didn't have too far to go before she stepped out from behind a pillar a few meters to his right.
"How did you manage it?" he asked, referring to her ability to close the elevator and trap John inside from roughly seven meters away.
She shrugged.
"A girl's gotta have her secrets," she replied with a grin and he couldn't help returning her smile.
She was Very Interesting. He shook the feeling off, focusing on her, assessing her. Something he hadn't done earlier. Blonde hair, a few shades lighter than her original. High end salon. She'd dropped the glasses, didn't need them, they'd been part of her disguise. Not a PA, but then he already suspected as much. Long sleeve blouse, buttoned to the top. If she had tattoos or distinguishing markings they were hidden from his view. Long, black, pencil skirt, hiding all but her calves, which were well muscled, athletic. Black heels. All her clothing had been purchased from high end shops. Intelligent, something he already knew. The way she held herself and her ability to shut down the lift and reactivate it told him she had some sort of training. It was a defensive move, trapping the pieces, putting them in place. She was Alone. No family, close friends, lovers. SECRETS. The entire word capitalizing to indicate a large quantity. Traveler. The word capitalizing to indicate a great distance and a great many places.
"Who are you?" he asked, stepping toward her, but the tension in her muscles told him she wanted her space so he paused and stepped back.
"I think we both know I'm not going to answer that," she replied. "I didn't set up this meeting to answer your questions." He quirked his brow. "Your problem is with me not my friends."
He paused at that. Friends?
"You don't have any close friends," he stated.
She reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear in a move of discomfort.
"No, but there are people I take care of and your presence threatens them."
"My presence threatens your friends? How?" he asked, thinking it was a fabrication to throw him off.
"Your brother is Mycroft Holmes and he's probably the most dangerous…" she paused as if searching for the right word. "…man I've ever come across. My friend signs a contract with him in the morning and by afternoon his brother arrives. You don't think he's going to be interested in that?"
"What does that have to do with your friend? If he signed a contract with my brother then they're already associating. Why would my presence affect that?"
"Because Mycroft doesn't know about my friend. Trevor signed the contract with him. My friend would be in danger if your brother knew of his existence. So, Sherlock, I'm asking you to leave and not come back." She gazed at him and he could see no suggestion that she was lying, even her voice seemed sincere. "Please."
"And how am I to get answers?" he asked.
He wanted answers and the best way to get him to leave her friends alone was to give him a chance to get them. She couldn't, of course, tell him everything. If she did that she'd have to leave London, but she could give him hints. Clues. Something to occupy him.
"I'll tell you what. If you can find a creative way to interest me I'll give you answers," she replied, giving him a grin that could only be described as cheeky and one he found Very Distracting.
In the next moment she stepped back behind the pillar. He stood there for a moment and was startled by a zapping sound and a flash of light. He walked over to the pillar. The scent of ozone hung in the air, but she was gone. He glanced around the area, but she wasn't anywhere to be found and he hadn't heard her running off. He smiled.
Standard Disclaimer.
Thank you to all my brilliant readers!
If you have time reviews are always welcome. :)