The Charred Remains

Chapter 8: When We Were Strongest

A/N: Well kiddies, yet another long awaited chapter for you all! I could sit and make excuses for why this took so long again, but I won't. I'm trying to be as quick as possible, but life is complicated sometimes. You will be happy to hear that the next chapter is about a third written already. You'll all hate me so much for it, but I love it! Anyways, on with the story! Thanks to the amazing Grizziesmom this chapter is amazing. MeddlingAdler is a very talented and busy lady, and I'm impatient and posting this without her help, sorry love, though you'll be getting my next chapter soon!

My dearest John,

It is actually with great reluctance that I write this particular letter. I have a lot of reservations on sharing this particular memory with you because of the slight chasm is caused between us for a short while. Honestly, when I first heard of your suspected amnesia, this is the first thing I thought of and was happy you'd forgotten. But I know that, in order to regain any part of what we had before the accident, I must reveal the most significant memories we've shared.

As you recall, I brought up The Woman in my last letter. Well, more traditionally she goes by Irene Adler. She is a business woman of sorts and she contacted me to help her set up her website. She conducts her business online. All of her clients find her that way, if they're lucky enough to ever hear her name breathed, that is. I suppose I can't get too far into the letter without telling you that she is a dominatrix. Well, more specifically, she's a well-paid dominatrix who services very high-end clients. There are a number of things I had no knowledge of when I agreed to help her. Had I but known, I don't think I'd have taken the job, no matter the large sum of money she was offering me.

With all that being said, she did provide me with one of the more interesting jobs I'd ever had. I was more than intrigued by the ideas she had for her website. We initially met at a small French bakery in SoHo. She was…she was something else. She held herself with such authority that people literally stumbled over themselves to get away from her. She seemed to look down her nose in utter disdain. Yet, the curl of her blood red lips called for you to come closer. I likened her to something like the Black Widow.

It was quite odd, but from the first meeting she and I had, we seemed to intrigue each other. She was more interested in finding out my background than talking about what she wanted for her website. She also had the ability to read people much like myself, and it was eerie to hear her making observations about me. I'd never met anyone else who could do such a thing, well, aside from the horrible Sherlock Holmes that is. I left that first meeting with an odd taste in my mouth. I wasn't quite sure what to make of her, though I had a feeling she knew just what to make of me. With that knowledge, I didn't know how I felt about meeting with her again, but a job is a job and I'm nothing if not loyal to those who pay for my services.

There is a whole book of information I could give you about The Woman, but I don't have time for that. And I'd rather not dive into it all again, so I'm going to skip ahead to the launch day.

I'd been working exclusively with Irene for two months. Of course, in that amount of time, you did have the pleasure of meeting her. From the get go you did not like her. She was the base of many fights between us, which I am still man enough to admit were partially my fault. I was completely taken with her mind. You'd taken a spot in the back of my mind while I worked with her. You were not happy about this. You brought it up numerous times, and I apologise once more for my callous remarks and the way I ignored your feelings during those months.

Back to the launch day.

That day, Irene's website would be opened up to her public. You insisted on being there. I assumed it was your way to further stake claim to what was yours. I rather did enjoy your fierce jealousy and possessiveness. A man always likes to feel he is wanted. I know I could have been more reassuring to you during this period of time, but I was just so wrapped up in her, for which I really can never apologise enough.

We arrived at The Woman's townhouse in the early evening. Kate, her assistant and lover let us in. While I was wrapped up with The Woman, you and Kate grew rather chummy. I was actually starting to get a taste of my own medicine, which I think is what you wanted. Back to the point…we were shown into the sitting room where The Woman had champagne and appetizers waiting for us. She took her seat in a plush chair at the head of the room. You and I took up spots on her settee right across from her fireplace. There was a safe above the mantel. I saw Irene's smirk when she caught me looking, though I quickly adverted my gaze.

"Let's get on with it then boys. A girl's gotta work," she purred, leaning back in her chair and accepting a flute of champagne from Kate.

You nodded, "Agreed, get it up and we'll be out of your hair Miss Adler."

You declined the champagne Kate offered you, giving her a sweet smile before she left us alone.

"Nice choice of words doctor, though I doubt he'd get it up for me," she said as her lips curled, her eyes glimmering as she studied you. You glared at her.

"I'll get the website up, you two play nice," I muttered and opened up the laptop on the table in front of me. There was an email open, but I barely paid it heed. I'd been working on Irene's personal laptop for quite some time; there are a few things I'd stumbled upon in that time. I'd seen enough to know that Irene truly is genius.

I was just getting the browser open for Irene's site when there was a loud banging from the hall. I felt you tense up next to me. I looked up, hoping that Irene would shed some light on the noise, but she'd turned white as a sheet.

"Is that a client?" I asked her, hesitating now, watching her shift subtly in her chair.

She cast her gaze from the door to me, "No, I'm afraid we're in trouble boys."

You had just opened your mouth to ask her what she meant when the door to the sitting room was kicked in. We all watched as three suited men entered the room. The middle man was tall, slightly balding, once heavier, umbrella hanging from his arm, and what was left of his hair was red. He held himself aloof, as if it was quite below him to have to be there with us. I felt you tensing up even further. I knew you were preparing to throw yourself to the wolves to protect us if it came to that. I slowly slid my hand to your thigh, squeezing lightly to stay you.

"Good evening Miss Adler, I assume you know why we're here. Let's just do this quickly. No one needs to get hurt," the umbrella man said, his voice sounding almost bored.

I glanced over to Irene, her smile cool as her eyes appraised him, "Now, Mr. Holmes, I haven't a clue what you're talking about. I'm merely a business woman. I hardly warrant the attention of the British government."

I balked. The man was the older brother to Sherlock Holmes. My jaw clenched as I turned to face him. He didn't even bother to pay us any mind. He leaned against his umbrella. He gave a short nod, his men dispersing at his signal.

"I will do this the hard way if I must, but either way, you will be stopped. My idiot brother can't continue with this petty feud between us. I know you've been in contact with him." The man, the elder Holmes, arched a brow at Irene.

The Woman leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees as she regarded the man, "Oh, I don't think it's such a petty feud Mycroft. He's got good reason to want to ruin you. I have nothing to do with it."

The man, Mycroft, crossed his feet, the toes of his right shoe resting on the floor while his other foot remained flat, "Wrong, you've provided him fuel for his fire. You've gained intimate access to some of the most powerful people in Europe. You've taken leverage from each encounter to protect yourself. You're not as cool as you think, Miss Adler," his grin was snake-like as he leveled his gaze at her.

Irene swallowed, her features remaining impassive, "As you said Mycroft, I only do it to protect myself. I have no need to include Sherlock in my plans. He's got his own evil plots brewing. I'd not worry about little old me; he's the one you should be confronting." She sat up then, leaning back in her chair adopting a more relaxed pose.

Mycroft sighed, his head finally turning to regard us, "You've had access to everything Irene has that I need. Hand it over or we'll be forced to use any means necessary to take it."

I was stunned. I had no idea what he was referring to. I swallowed the lump in my throat. I glanced over at Irene but she kept her gaze locked on Mycroft. I saw her subtly sliding a mobile under her thigh. I looked back at Mycroft, "I really haven't a clue what you're talking about. I've only been helping her set up a website."

His look only grew more thoughtful.

"You've been working from her laptop. She knows everything you might see on it would mean nothing to you, but I know how clever you are. You're a genius with technology and a genius to boot. You insult my own intelligence by pretending to not know what I am talking about. You've read her emails. I want to know what was in them. If you refuse…" he trailed there; one of his men had come back into the room. Mycroft nodded to the man. My eyes narrowed as he began to approach us. I shifted, a bit uneasy, but then he lashed out and grabbed you by the collar of your jumper.

I jumped back, startled by the sudden movement. The man had pulled you from the settee and had you kneeling on the floor, a gun pointed to the back of your head. In that instant I saw red. I jumped to my feet, enraged that he would threaten your life.

"I'm an IT guy, I really didn't see anything! What I have seen would make no sense to you anyways. Let him go, he has nothing to do with any of this!"

My fists were clenched tightly at my side. I knew I couldn't best these men, but I would do whatever I could to protect you.

"Jim, just…give him something," you hissed as the barrel of the gun dug into your skull.

Mycroft trained his cool gaze on me, "Tell me now, Mr. Moriarty what it is you've seen but presume to think would be useless to me. Refuse to tell me again, and he's dead. Those are your choices."

I gaped at him. I couldn't believe this! I whirled to face Irene. She kept up her cool façade, but her eyes were pleading with me to keep it to myself. In that moment, it really boiled down to which one of you I could live without. I knew without a doubt that I could not live without you. I turned away from Irene, and avoided looking at you. I breathed in deeply.

"The email made no sense. All I got from it was a series of numbers and letters. I can write it down if you want, but that's all I know."

I didn't risk looking at Irene. I knew I'd let her down, which was confirmed when I heard her chair hit the floor.

At that point, all hell broke loose. Irene managed to subdue Mycroft's men and get away. Mycroft went after her, which left you and I alone. I had no idea what had just happened, but I knew we needed to get out. I grabbed the material of your jumper near your right shoulder and hauled you to your feet.

"We're leaving right now," I growled and nearly ran out the front door. We jogged a few blocks down the street until we came to a small alley. I pushed you into it, our breaths coming in gasps as we tried to settle our heartbeats.

"What the fuck was that?" you uttered, your breath coming in small pants as you leaned against the alley wall.

I shook my head. I had no idea. I walked up to you, placing my hand against your cheek. I needed to reassure myself that you were truly okay. I sighed, bowing my head forward to press our foreheads together, "I don't know what it was, but I think I've lost her business."

You chuckled lightly, tipping your head up to press a chaste kiss to my lips. I responded in kind before taking a step back. I straightened my jacket and drew in another deep breath. I looked around the alley and motioned you to follow me. I hailed us a cab home.

The following morning's paper boasted a headline of a high-end dominatrix's death. I'd lie if I said I wasn't saddened by the news, but I also saw it coming. She'd aligned herself with the wrong sort of person. Everyone that comes into contact with Sherlock Holmes dies. He cares not for them, and tosses them aside as per his fancy. I fear I'd known from the first seeing of Mycroft Holmes in Irene's sitting room that her fate was sealed. I think she knew it too. On the following page was a small blurb about a government ploy against terrorists being leaked to a terrorist cell due to confidential information being passed into the wrong hands.

I wish I could say that this incident was the last we would hear from the Holmes brothers, but I'd be lying. They popped up a few more times before the young one decided to take his own life. I am a bit glad that I don't need to go into too much detail for them, but I am looking forward to my next few letters. I finally get to share with you the happiest days of my life, a life that we decided to share together from now until eternity.

Rest again John, I'm assuming you're rather crap at resting, but I hope that you're doing it for me. I really can't wait to see your gorgeous, blue eyes.

Love Always,
JM