Chapter Five

Emilia looked at Lestrade with a scared expression. He waited for a go-ahead from her in any way, shape, or form. With a deep exhale and a fanning her face with her hands, she looked to him and nodded. She was willing to try.

John stood in the room with her, trying his best to be support. If the man was really in the other room, she would need someone to be her strength.

The window they stood before became illuminated and the people in the room could see into the next room. There were ten men lined up against a white wall with black lines crossing horizontally, indicating height.

Emilia scanned the faces one by one, very slowly. John looked over the faces quickly and to Emilia in between each face he scanned. As she hovered over each one, she began to become more relaxed. She was recalling she never saw the man's face, but only voice.

"They need to speak," Emilia told Lestrade.

The detective nodded. "Suspect one, read the sign before you."

"I stand before you convicted of a crime for which I am suspected of."

Emilia shook her head. "No. Next."

The other nine men spoke, and Emilia was visibly more comfortable. None of these men had the voice of her attacker. Of course there were nine other suspects, but Emilia wouldn't see them until tomorrow.

Sherlock entered the room where the ten men stood. He started to observe the men a bit too closely for their comfort, it seemed.

"What is he doing?" Lestrade asked as a corner of his mouth pointed downward.

Emilia shrugged, but found amusement in the men's discomfort. John started to shift his weight around like he does whenever he knew Sherlock was going to get in trouble.

"The only connection you all have with each other is that you were close to the woman who you were framed to have murdered. What else? Do you have a common enemy? A long distant cousin? What is it!"

"That's enough, Sherlock," said the police officer escorting him out of the room and to the room the others were in.

John gave Sherlock a scolding look, while Emilia was still smiling at what he had done. Lestrade had just about the same look John had.

"What was that about?" Lestrade asked Sherlock.

"I can't find any connections! This game is—" Sherlock froze mid-sentence.

John knew that look. Almost all of Sherlock's faces, John knew. This particular one meant Sherlock had started processing everything so quickly that he came up with a new direction. It also usually meant he was going to take off running and they wouldn't see him again for a while. Instead, Sherlock pulled out his phone and began texting, walking out of the room slowly.

Emilia looked to John and he shrugged.

"I know this is always a game to him, but really?" Lestrade shook his head and let Emilia and John out.

John couldn't shake it, what about what Sherlock was going to say was familiar?

Emilia took John's arm and pulled him along with her as they left the station and started walking down the street.

"You do know it will take a long time to walk home, right?" John asked her.

"Who said we're going home?"

John's eyebrows knit together. "So what are we doing?"

"Take me window shopping. I want to go look at things I can't have."

"Is that a hobby?"

"It gets my mind off things, yes."

John looked at his watch. "I suppose. If Sherlock needs us he can call us then."

For hours John was tugged around by Emilia through jewelers, thrift shops, and clothing stores. Emilia was in a store trying on dresses when she got a text.

What are you doing? –SH

Playing. Why?

Just checking. –SH

Are you trying to tell me you're worried? :)

Emilia laughed as she sent that one then tried on another dress.

No. –SH

Well, he's no fun today.

Watch out. –SH

Watch out? For what?

Just then a woman knocked on the door of the room Emilia was trying on dresses.

"Sorry, occupied!"

"Come on out," a female's voice replied.

John was just out there, where had he gone for someone to get to her?

"Find another room!"

"I'm afraid that's no option."

Emilia watched as the locked door handle became unlocked and opened up to reveal a pretty woman who seemed preoccupied with her phone. Behind her, Emilia could see John standing behind a man clad in a very expensive looking suit.

"Emilia Hayes," the man greeted her.

Emilia watched John shake his head, and the lady with the phone moved out of the way.

"Who are you?"

"Mycroft Holmes. It's nice to finally meet you."

"Who is he John?" Emilia asked as she crossed her arms over her chest. She was clothed, but in a dress that was not hers.

"Sherlock's brother. He's nice to you…" John trailed off as his arms were then crossed.

"Emilia, I believe we have some things we need to discuss."

"I don't know you."

"Come on outside, princess," the woman tried to direct Emilia toward the door.

"My clothes…"

"Those are yours now. Come along, now."

Emilia grabbed her purse and original clothes and went to John's side. She latched on to his arm again and he looked at her solemnly.

"This usually isn't that bad."

Emilia still felt quite uneasy. Where the hell was Sherlock? Is this what his text was about?

You can come rescue me anytime now!

Just figure out what he wants. –SH

Mycroft handed Emilia a folder. She looked up at him as he didn't move from where he stood before her. She opened the folder and took one look at the first page and slammed it closed.

"How did you get those, why do you have them?" she asked with fear and haste.

"I'm wondering how you hid them so well."

"What do you want from me?"

John reached for the folder and took it, starting to leaf through the files.

"I want to know the truth," Mycroft's voice had a playful ring to it as he sat in a chair.

"I didn't kill my parents. I didn't!" Emilia then rubbed her throat, feeling like she's strained her voice enough lately.

"That's all I needed."

"You pretty much kidnapped me for this?"

"He does this a lot," John chimed in.

"I am anxious to see your case end as much as you are, so we're going to have to cooperate."

"…" Emilia stared at Mycroft with an untrusting feeling in her gut.

"I am going to propose an idea. Whoever is adding more stress to your past so badly that you had to have it deleted needs to be brought to my attention. So, in turn, I need your help. Will you do that for me?"

"I don't know what you're asking of me."

"I'm going to try and clear your name. First, who was your friend that removed this information?" Mycroft held up the folder as John handed it to him.

"He won't be in trouble, will he?"

"Not by me, by any means."

Emilia swallowed the saliva in her mouth. She exhaled, and spoke a name, "Kyal Moore."

"Where is Kyal now?"

"He left to America for vacation, he said. I haven't spoken to him since."

"Anthea, look him up."

"On it, sir," the pretty lady's voice came from a speaker box near Mycroft.

"Now," Mycroft continued, "you're going to lure out this murderer. They always come back for their unfinished business."

"You're going to use her as bait?" John asked.

"Attempt to. With you and Sherlock watching her, it will be fine. I need everyone's help in deciding how to do this."

With the cue, they came up with a plan to try to make Emilia more obvious to the world.

Emilia toted her bags upstairs from the shop they were 'kidnapped'from. She was surprised that Mycroft bought every dress she had fancied, but she wasn't going to complain. In her mind, she deserved it for how he treated her.

"I'm going to get a shower," she told John as they sat the bags on his bedroom floor.

She went about her business, and by the time John returned to the sitting room, he found Sherlock home. He wasn't a moment ago.

"Where were you all day?"

"Gathering information. What did Mycroft want?"

John shook his head with a smile. How those boys know everything each other does is beyond him. "Wait for Emilia. It's extremely important."

"Everything with Mycroft is important."

John sat in his chair and opened the newspaper. "I don't think you've noticed but you've changed."

"No I haven't."

"You're more rude than usual."

"What?" Sherlock said with a scrunched face of disbelief. "Come off it."

To end the conversation, Sherlock's phone received a text to which he jumped up to retrieve. Since when does Sherlock cross the room just for his phone?

John returned to the paper and waited for Emilia and Sherlock to end up in the same room so they all could converse and—

John was interrupted by a female scream, Emilia's scream, which put him on alert. He ran to where the scream came from and threw his hand in the air with a frustrated shake of his head.

Sherlock was in the bathroom where Emilia was, while all she was clad in was her towel. Sherlock made no indications of leaving while he hovered over the bathroom sink.

"Can you give the girl her privacy? Uh, sorry, uhm, Emilia…" John looked around at anything but her.

"Sherlock, out!" Emilia shooed him out.

"Hold on, I'm busy!" he said fiddling with a small bottle over the sink.

"Well I'm naked and would very much prefer if I did so in private!"

"Then leave!" he yelled back at her. "I don't see why you're even in here anyway!"

Emilia groaned loudly and exited the bathroom forcibly by shoving into Sherlock's back and John's shoulder. She slammed the door to John's room.

Sherlock was looking at John incredulously. "This is our flat and our privacy. Technically she's the one intruding."

"It may seem that way to you, but she is also a very important guest and the key witness you have to solving this case. You need her as much as she needs us."

Sherlock sighed and set the bottle in his hands down.

"What are you not telling me?" John crossed his arms and waited. He wouldn't let Sherlock go this time.

The consulting detective looked to the army doctor with an uncertainty in his eyes.

"I really believe… I really think… I think he's behind this."

John knew Sherlock wouldn't joke about bringing up Moriarty. Now it's time to look out for warning signs.

"Either way, this needs to end. Soon," Sherlock added after letting the shock sink into John.

"We have a plan."

"Mycroft's doing?"

John nodded. "It seems like a good idea. Once Emilia is done being mad at you we need to talk about it."

At that moment, Emilia burst out of the back of the flat, dressed and hair in a bun at the base of her head. She grabbed her coat and her scarf.

"Where are you going?" Sherlock asked, alarm apparent in his eyes.

"Away. You're driving me bloody crazy."

"I will go with you," John went for his coat.

Emilia put her hand up and halted John. "I need time away from you both. I'll go around the block a time or two and return."

Sherlock watched her pick headphones out of her pocket, pull on her boots, and stomped out the door.

John looked at Sherlock with another accusing look, but hesitated when he saw a look glisten in Sherlock's eyes; uncertainty. Once Sherlock noticed John watching though, it disappeared, like it was never there.

It was true, John thought, Sherlock does have faces he hid when Sherlock thought he wasn't looking. Because of that, John gave him privacy to this trait by not paying attention as often. It was affection in the way of brotherhood. Many soldiers alongside him in the war were like this. They wanted to appear brave, but all the while wanted someone to know they were truly human; they cared too much to show.

"I'm going to follow her. I'm afraid they won't pay us if we have a dead witness."

"Pay me. They chose to pay me," John corrected Sherlock for the one hundredth time.

They boys grabbed their coats and filed out the door. John took a post on the steps, watching both corners of the street. He knew he was in plain sight, and that's just precisely what he wanted. Emilia would see him, be angry, and then circle around again. After realizing that he won't move, she'll have to encounter him to return to the flat. He'll stop her; require her promise to remain safe under his care. It will be a lesson but a lesson very important. There is someone wanting to hurt this girl, and there are two someones wanting to protect her. Take those odds, evil bad guy!

John scolded himself for thinking things through in a 'Sherlock manner.' It will work, though.

Sherlock on the other hand, stalked her. He remained one-fourth to one-half of a block behind her. He knew that Emilia knew he was there. He also knew he was certainly pissing her off more, but this too, like John, was his plan. To annoy her into not being angry anymore.

John looked at his watch. Emilia was coming back around in just shy of ten minutes.

She passed again.

And again.

And again.

John sat on the steps this time, and started watching time again to await Emilia and Sherlock's next round.

Emilia was listening to her music, louder than necessary, and started to unconsciously sing out loud. Sherlock rolled his eyes. What a diva, he thought.

Emilia was looking around and taking in the sights and views that she's let her eyes pass over four times now. She always seemed to find something to interest her no matter how many times she's seen it. Sherlock, again, rolled his eyes. The simple minds of humans. She was the very embodiment of what he despised most in humans.

Emilia stopped and kneeled next to a trashcan, the other side of which Sherlock couldn't see. He stopped, wanting to keep his distance, but his curiosity was strong. When Emilia stood, she had a small kitten in her arms to which she cooed to, pet and giggled with. She circled back around the block once more, still holding the creature, and John observed. He looked to Sherlock, whom just shrugged.

Once more around, she let the kitten go, and started back up the stairs to the flat.

"Are you alright now?" John asked her.

"I have been this entire time. I just needed exercise. It kills me how you both can just sit in there all day."

John grumbled under his breath as Emilia smiled at him cheerfully.

"I could have thought this whole thing up on my own," Sherlock scoffed as John finished going over the plan.

"Then recite it back to me, if you know so much," Emilia said with a smirk on her lips.

Sherlock's eyes traveled to her mouth as her lips twitched, but he then closed his eyes.

"Well?" John added fuel to the fire.

"You have decided to put Emilia in her old teenage hobbies of modeling, to show the killer she still lives, flaunt and bait her. A risky move on her behalf but as many people have told us; with John and myself watching over her, we will prevail. We're going to insert Emilia into the upcoming show to which you believe the murderer will try to publicly destroy her or secretly steal away to her room. The only chance we have of cornering the man is if he picks the latter of the decisions; if it is indeed the prior, then we have no chance of saving Emilia."

John shook his head while Emilia sat back in her chair. It was a big risk she'll have to take. But in a comical side of her head, she was more frustrated about getting into modeling again.

John was nervous about the plan going awry. All the possibilities of what-ifs were running through his mind. His mind wasn't as quick and didn't think as efficiently as Sherlock's, but he tried to do the best he could.

Sherlock on the other hand, had already thought of every possibility. Only a few ended in the death of Emilia Hayes, a considerable amount in the murderer getting away or being killed, and only six ending with a dead James Moriarty.

If it was him behind this.

Hello, faithful stalkers. Okay, I didn't have internet for the longest time, I even tried to upload this chapter with my phone, my iPad (which doesn't do well AT ALL), and anything else I could! But here it is. To be honest, I have clear up to Chapter Eight written in all the time I was lacking internet, but I need ammo for when you guys get restless! I'll not stop writing though.

Do you guys like the new chapter titles? It's the first time I've actually named chapters. I figured we needed some kind of uplifting sillies around here for the tragedy I have planned… And you all are going to hate me for who it happens to. You'll never know!

Leave me a review, loves. I appreciate it.