Title: Reichenbach Falls- A Different Take (Part 3 Of A Different Take Series/Universe)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters that are part of the BBCverse of Sherlock.

Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Moriarty, Moran, DI Lestrade, Sally Donovan, Molly Hooper, Mrs Hudson with Mycroft Holmes appearance a couple times.

Genre: Suspense, Drama, Angst, General, Friendship, Humor (as much one can be with this story), Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Death, Murder, Violence, Language, Deaths of Previous Minor Characters

Spoilers: Reichenbach Falls is the title of the third episode/season finale (or episode 6) of Season 2.

Summary: It's February. John and Sherlock have known each other for a year now, their friendship strong, the bond that is between them is understood by them, but not by everyone else. Moriarty's plans for the two of them have been coming to fruition since January. Everyone they know, have helped and are close to them (as close one can get to Sherlock that is) are in danger.

Author's Note: Some of the people I mentioned below come from my earlier fics.

Chapter 6

Phone Calls

Date: February 10th, 2011

Time: 2:55 pm

Location: Aeroplane

The pilot stops talking, and Sherlock feels the plane start to descend. It will not be long now until the plane stops, they depart and they head for their destination.

"Sherlock?"

"Yes?"

"Do you ever think back to the day when Stamford introduced us?"

"This is an old friend of mine, John Watson."

"Once or twice since then. But recently, no." Sherlock braces a foot on the floor and stretches the muscles. "Have you spoke to him recently?"

"Last time we spoke was on the third of January."

"Oh," Sherlock grimaces.

"I used to talk with him now and then, during the first couple months we became flatmates. Since then, all we've done were two minute chats in passing."

Sherlock feels a pang of guilt rise in him, but he ruthlessly squashes it.

"It's a good thing I suppose."

"Why?"

"He's safe because of it."

From Moran. Moriarty.

Soon, no one will have to worry about that anymore.

Date: January 30th, 2011

Location: Scotland Yard

Time: Sometime past five.

Sherlock barely notices the cup of coffee set down in front of him as he ends the call, then checks his contacts list.

"Where's your flatmate?" Sgt. Sally Donovan's voice registers though.

"Checking in on Doctor Molly Hooper."

"Aren't you worried he might end up with two bullet wounds if he's not with you?"

"No, because Moran won't go for John until she's done with everyone else. Or whenever Moriarty tells her to. Now would not be the opportune time."

He hears a snort, and the words "cold hearted" muttered by Sgt Donovan. He hears a chair pull out next to him and notices out of the corner of his eye that she sits.

"You should drink that coffee."

"Don't need it."

"Right, because the great Sherlock Holmes doesn't need anything does he?"

Wrong. But that is something she does not need to know, let alone anyone else. Even he doesn't care to admit to, even in his own head.

"I see Anderson has not taken you ending your affair very well."

She inhales sharply. "I thought we had some sort of truce going, Freak."

"No, you had some sort of truce going with me." Sherlock counters, not bothering to look up from his mobile. "You decided because I took a vicious beating to stall those criminals, so Lestrade and others could arrive in time that I saved your life. Therefore, you decided to ease your hostility towards me."

"So I was wrong then? You didn't deliberately anger them to get their attention off me? You decided it would be fun to take a beating because you were bored?" Sherlock hears the challenge in Sgt Sally Donovan's voice.

"Lestrade would have been unhappy with your death," Sherlock says, keeping his tone brisk and cool. "He would have then had trouble finding a suitable replacement for you, and I would have had to hear it over and over. Your mother would have had difficulty getting the finances to take care of your funeral, also would have struggled to raise your sister, as you helped out financially with that. Anderson then would have turned his attentions to someone else... so in the end by taking the beating I saved everyone a lot of trouble. Excuse me, I have to make this call."

Silence. He prefers it. He dials the number.

A few rings later confirms that Marian Tavington is indeed still alive, and currently in Japan.

He ends the call and goes through more of his contacts.

"I should hit you."

"Do as you like."

"How did you know about my sister?"

Sherlock gestures to Donovan's desk, which is about three away from the one he is at. "You do not have a lot of clutter on it, but you have two pictures. One of an older woman, the other of a younger one. You are not married, and the two times I have been in your flat there is no evidence of a child, so you are not a single mother. The older woman has similar features to yours, so your mother. Same with your sister. She's a late in life child, as your mother had her when you were at least seventeen years older. Your father died a year after you entered the force."

"Freak."

"Well there's that passion that has been missing the last few times you called me that."

"Oh have you missed it now?"

Sherlock smiles at that, and finally looks at Sgt Donovan.

"You're contacting everyone on your mobile I see. So you do care."

He feels a muscle in his cheek jump at that observation. "Trying to work on your observation skills? Isn't that more useful at your crime scenes, Sergeant?"

He wishes she would go away, possibly harass Lestrade or someone else.

It has been a trying few days. Angelo died, then on the twenty eighth, Lawrence Stephenson, the student that had come to him about melting laptop, died during a night out with his friends. PC Jane Downing, the one who had the superstitious husband that died (A case he had before he met John) was found a few hours later dead in her car yesterday.

Sergeant Caswell turned into a target as well, Moran deciding to stay nearby that very crime scene. He was lucky that when Moran took her shot at him, Caswell bent down to get a closer look at the slash in Downing's front passenger tire. Caswell was then able to evade two more shots after that, getting quickly inside a building to escape Moran.

Moran made up for missing Caswell.

She killed Jacob Pettingham, the boy with the stolen bicycle, and his mother at midnight. They were found earlier today.

"She's stone cold," Donovan says with disgust. "To kill a boy so easily."

"Snipers are trained to leave their emotions out of it. She became quite good at what she did for the French, so no doubt they trained her exceedindly well. Moriarty has taken advantage of that." Sherlock notices Donovan looking uneasy now. Time to fix that, her performance will suffer."Caswell?"

"He's fine. Still a little shaken, and a bit paranoid. Then again most of us are."

"You have reason to be."

"Thanks."

"Your welcome."

Donovan scowls at him. "Sarcasm, Sherlock."

"I was choosing to ignore it."

"Obviously."

2 Hours Later

Sherlock was annoyed that Donovan was still sitting next to him and not at her desk. If he didn't know any better, he would say Lestrade assigned her to him.

"Go away, Donovan."

"No."

Sherlock sighs. His mobile rings then and he gladly takes advantage of it.

"Sherlock Holmes."

"Sherlock."

Sherlock closes his eyes at the commanding, familiar female voice on the other line.

"You didn't look at your caller identification did you?"

No, no he did not. Anything to avoid talking to Donovan.

"Hello Mummy," he says, then notices a startled look from Donovan at that.

The memory of his mother and Donovan's one meeting almost makes him smile.

"Your brother told me that you were at Scotland Yard. Are you still there?"

"Yes. Where are you?"

"Portugal. I just finished with a three hour book lecture. Your brother said it would not be wise to come back to England."

No, it would undoubtedly not be. Of course, Mycroft would know what's going on now. His eyes and ears would have told him everything by now. Sherlock's just surprised he hadn't heard from the man.

"Any reason why Sherlock? What did you do?" He hears her pause, then her next words are pure cold, and with steely intent. "Have you slipped? Is this why you are at Scotland Yard? Do you remember our last talk about this? Why am I asking that? You remember ninety nine percent of everything."

"No, no," Sherlock says quickly, quietly. He remembers what his mother said that day in the hospital, so soon after Lestrade's ultimatum. He stands up, moving away from a curious Donovan and closer to Lestrade's office. "I haven't, I promise. I promised I would never go back to it again."

He hears a sigh of relief. "Apologies, Sherlock. I know you haven't done so in a long time, but I cannot forget all those statistics. Even if you defy them."

"True. Relax, Mummy."

"I'm relaxing. Mycroft told me that it would be best I went to his place in Sweden. Did you know he has a home in Sweden?"

"He has homes in lots of places, Mummy," Sherlock says dryly.

"Yes," Mummy says dryly, her tone nearly matching his. "Yes, he does."

"I haven't seen him though. Maybe he put on a few pounds."

"Sherlock." A reprimand.

"Apologies."

"Accepted. Now, why are you at Scotland Yard? Is it another case?"

"Yes."

"Why am I being told not to come to England?"

Sherlock hesitates then.

"Sherlock," her voice is on the verge of demanding now. If he doesn't answer, it will be.

"It's too dangerous for you."

"But not dangerous for Mycroft?"

"He has his protection."

Silence at the other end. Minutes of it drag by slowly.

"I see. Sherlock..."

"Yes?"

"Be careful."

"Always, Mummy."

"I'll pretend to believe that little white lie," she drawls. "Is John there?"

"Not at the moment, no."

"Oh, pity," she sounds disappointed now. Sherlock smiles. Mummy took to John's presence in his life with ease. Something about her son now having a stabilizing influence. "I do believe I have his mobile number, so I think I'll give him a ring."

"Careful now Mummy. You'll make me think I've been replaced as your favourite."

She laughs. "Oh my brilliant son. A mother should never play favourites, although it is rather obvious I do. You cannot be replaced, Sherlock Holmes. You know that quite well yourself."

"I know."

"So smug."

"I have reason to be."

"Yes, you do, don't you? Well I'm off. You have things to do, and I have your doctor friend to ring up before I make plans for Sweden. Again my dear, be careful."

"I always am."

"White lie," she says, a hint of sadness in her words this time, and their call ends.

She always knew when he lied.

John was becoming adept at knowing it too. Sherlock was torn between annoyance and amusement at that fact.

His mobile rings again and this time he looks at the identification.

Sherlock scowls, then answers.

"Mycroft."

"Sherlock," he twitches as he hears his brother's smooth voice at the other end. "I was ringing to inform you that Mummy-"

"She already rang Mycroft. A bit on the slow side today? Your surveillence on my mobile not as quick as it normally is?"

"I see someone is in a mood."

"At least you did not tell her why she should not come back to England."

"I thought it would be best at the moment."

"Of course you did."

"I have not rung you to start a quarrell, Sherlock."

"Why have you rung me?"

"Because I thought you would like to know that Tilly Briggs has escaped an attempt on her life with the aid of some good samaritans."

Sherlock blinks. "Moran must be slipping then. This is the second time someone escaped."

"You are referring to Sergeant Caswell then? No, she is not slipping. The samaritans simply got wind of the impending attack and collected Ms Briggs minutes just as Ms Sébastienne Moran arrived. She responded by killing one of the samaritans, then setting fire to Ms Briggs home in frustration when the others escaped."

Sherlock did not know what to say. But he was not going to say thank you.

"I expect there will be some sort of reprisal."

"Is that why you informed Mother to go to Sweden?"

"I told her Sweden would be a good option yes, but I recall now I do not have a home in Sweden, so she will end up somewhere else."

Translation: No one will know where Mummy will go in case this phone call is being overheard.

"I must go now, we will talk again, Sherlock."

Right.

They both end the call, and Sherlock turns to see John arriving, on his mobile. Talking to Mummy, no doubt. Donovan is still stubbornly at her desk.

When Sherlock takes his seat, John pauses during his conversation Mummy. While doing so, he sets down a cup of coffee, and a small paper plate with two biscuits on it in front of Sherlock.

"Eat," he orders sternly. No arguing with him about this. "What? Oh no, just telling your son to eat. He hasn't for a few days now... Oh, no not a meal. I know better than that." He holds up a hand to the both of them and walks a feet away.

Donovan glares as Sherlock decides he might as well eat them. Not because his transport is starting to demand food, but because John brought it to him to eat.

He notices Donovan glaring at him, again, when he finishes off one biscuit and takes a few sips from his coffee.

"Yes?"

"Someone gets you a cup like I just did, you won't have anything to do with it. He gets you a cup and a biscuit, nearly orders you to eat.. and you do?"

"I trust him not to poison my drink. Even with a so called truce."