Hello readers and reviewers!

anksenamoon : Rah la la d'aussi loin que j'adorerais venir du pays de Shakespeare, je viens plutôt de celui de Molière (dont je torture beaucoup moins la langue mon anglais étant loins d'être parfait j'en ai peur :)) Merci pour ta gentille review qui me fait chaud au coeur.
helenecolin : Yeeeeeeeees a cliff :) be happy this time no cliff at least not that sort of cliff :)
hardcore-muffins : seems that you have, like me, a problem for writing correctly the word 'furry' :p :p Congratulation it gives you the right to choose the colour of the furry handcuffs (maybe I'll use them somewhere in the story :p)...Now imagine which colour would suit better to a naked John :p
Boobunny60 : Cruelty, remember? :p
watergoddesskasey : I love how you can call me evil then say you love it...interesting :p
thisisforyou : You asked the right question! Happy you did it! Plot plot plot! Thanks!
TheScienceODeduction, Catindahat, OntheWinterSolstice and PrettyLittleScars : I try to update two times a week (sometimes more, sometimes less) so here comes the next chapter :) Hope you'll like it.

I love torturing you with my little cliffhangers (bitchy bitchy me!). Here comes the new chapter, less sex, more plot (sex will come back soon don't worry :p). This chapter is dedicated to those who love Mycroft (hope you'll like how I wrote the character).

Chapter 15 – The shadow

They were fast asleep when a long and black shadow opened the bedroom's door and slid inside. The dim light got caught by something in the shadow's hand. A long blade.

The shadow was walking slowly, seems like it was trying not to walk or bump on something. But it most certainly came closer to the bed, the sharpen long blade catching the light with every move of it's owner like a little death star shinning in the night. It took almost a minute to the shadow to turn around the bed and stand on Sherlock's side. The shadow raised the blade and was about to stab the detective's chest when, in a blur of fast movement several things happened simultaneously.

John opened his eyes, the soldier in him, the one with the light sleep, told him something was wrong. His eyes confirmed the feeling. He didn't move though, he needed to collect data about the shadow that was almost silently sliding in the room. Obviously it was holding a long army knife and was wearing a camouflage uniform (a black one), according to the soldier's book that man must wear another knife at his left ankle (he was obviously right handed) and maybe a gun at his belt. The man's walk, for it obviously wasn't a woman and surely not a ghost, suggested he had no other equipment. When the man stopped about to stab John's lover, the ex soldier pushed his right hand under his pillow and grabbed the gun he had hidden there then threw himself across Sherlock's body and shot the man in the right arm.

The shadow screamed and staggered.

"Sherlock don't move!" The ex soldier ordered.

When the shadow tried to reach for the gun at it's belt with it's left hand, John fired a second time. The bullet went through the shadow's hand and a second scream ripped the night. John jumped out of the bed and went closer to the shadow. The man had fallen on the floor moaning and crying. John took the two knives and the gun and gave them to the detective.

"Give me the handcuffs." He asked his lover. Sherlock grabbed the handcuffs and slid out of the bed. John tied the man to the old radiator under the window and turned to face the man he loved.

"Are you all right?" Sherlock nodded and John held him in a close embrace.

The bedroom door opened noisily and two guards entered followed by Mycroft and Anthea. The two guards aimed the shadow (not that he was necessary) and the older Holmes turned to the two men still joined in a close embrace and still naked.

"What happened, are you all right? Sherlock? John?" Mycroft taking a step closer.

"We are all right." Sherlock said in a low voice.

"Who is this man?" Mycroft gestured in the two guards direction and one of them reached for the shadow's hood pulling it out.

"It's Harrison." The first guard said.

"Harrison?"

"Yes sir, he works on the day shift."

"This is one of the mansion's guard?" Mycroft's usual patience was breaking into small pieces right now and his usual affable expression turned into a rather irascible one. He turned back to the two lovers which were now slipping inside dressing gowns.

"What happened? John?"

"That man came in the room with an army knife, he wanted to stab Sherlock. I shot him, twice."

Mycroft turned to the man. "Why did you try to kill my brother? Who sent you?" He shouted. The man didn't answered and Mycroft cross the distance between them and kneeled in front of the man. "Who?" The shadow didn't answered. The older Holmes put his hand on Harrison's throat and squeezed "Who?" The man screamed and Mycroft squeezed a little more.

"Mycroft!" Sherlock shouted "Mycroft, that's enough!" The younger Holmes put his hands on his brother's shoulder and the man turned his head. Suddenly conscious he was torturing an injured man he released Harrison's throat and stood up. A strange silence fell in the room. Anthea took a step closer to Mycroft and put her hand on his arm and suddenly the affable expression came back on his face. John shivered something in Mycroft's look was absolutely terrifying and he suddenly understood how lethal the man could be.

"Who sent you?" Sherlock asked again.

The man moved his legs and moaned in pain, his eyes rolled in their sockets.

"You...didn't answer...the text message..." He said before passing out.

"Take him away before he bleeds to death on the floor." Mycroft said coldly to the two guards. John gave them the handcuffs key and soon the man was dragged out of the room.

"That's madness." John whispered.

"No, that's genius." Sherlock whispered back "Moriarty is everywhere, he wanted to prove it. The fact I didn't answered 'Lestrade's' text proved him I knew he was behind it and he put his infiltrated man in motion. How long has this man been working here?"

"A year and a half." Anthea said reading the answer on her BlackBerry.

"Those men are trained soldiers not mercenaries, that shouldn't happen." Mycroft hissed.

"As I said Moriarty is everywhere. And he has been planning that for a really long time."

Sherlock turned to John. "Are you all right?" He asked cupping his right cheek.

"I'm okay Sherlock." The doctor answered putting his hand around Sherlock's wrist and stroking it with his thumb. "Seems like learning to shoot with my right hand was the best idea I ever had." He took a peak at the pool of blood under the radiator. "What are you going to do with him?" He asked Mycroft.

"I'm taking care of him." John frowned "I mean, we're going to look after him, treat his injuries, and, then, ask him who he was taking his orders from." Mycroft smiled. That man was absolutely scary.

"I don't think this will lead to anything." Sherlock added "Any news from Lestrade?"

"No, absolutely none."

"Can you check on someone for me?"

"Sure."

"Find anything you can about a woman called Linda, she's a police officer from Cardiff, a...friend...of Lestrade. She pretended to write a criminology thesis. She talked about an interview with professor Lewis" Sherlock frowned "I don't know her last name we first met her the day John was hit by the car and the very next day in Lestrade's office."

"I'll see what I can find." Mycroft looked at Anthea and the woman nodded sharply. "Are you sure you are both all right?" His voice soften a little.

"I'm all right." Sherlock sighed.

"I'm fine." John added.

"Thank you, John." The older Holmes said and those three words spoke volumes to John.

Mycroft put his hand on the small of Anthea's back and they went out closing the door behind them.

"Is that all?" John frowned.

"No it's not all, Mycroft is going to check the past of all the soldiers working in the mansion and maybe ask for the replacement of most of them. And of course check Harrison's. He is really pissed right now."

"Yes, I saw that."

"What you saw is the submerged part of the iceberg." Sherlock took a step closer to his lover "John..." his voice soften "I..."

John crossed the distance between them and gave his man a passionate kiss.

"I won't let anybody hurt you. As far as I can I will protect you. I wish...I wish..."

"Yes, it will be enough." Sherlock found John's mouth again, their tongues duelled and they moaned loudly. The detective pushed John on the bed and opened his dressing gown. He was teasingly licking John's belly when the doctor stopped him.

"Sherlock, Sherlock I'm sorry but," he gave a glare at the covers they were stained with brown red splatters "not here, please."

The detective helped his lover get up. "Come with me my love." He whispered in John's ear.

… … …

No cliffy this time, if you love that...Review!
Thanks!

(a little opinion pool : Would you like me to write a sexy chapter about Mycroft and Anthea or should I keep that for another story?)