Sherlock continued to stare after his sister. "She's not for you John. She broken."
"If that's the case then you and Mycroft are broken as well," John retorted. He threw on his dressing gown and ran down the stairs to follow Melaine. He was just about to run down the street to find her, when he saw her sitting on the steps. Her head in her hands. Bending down he sat beside her and wrapped a warm arm around her shoulder.
She looked up at John, he thought she might be crying. But her eyes were crystal clear, and dazzled him with a beautiful smile. "I guess this finger really does belong to you." Then she kissed him, softly and sweetly so as not to scare him. Then got up and walked away.
"He's gone Mel…"John gasped, tears streaming down his face. It broke her heart to see him like this. Tears were dripping slowly down her own face. She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt that Sherlock was alive. Whatever his game was, it was meant to protect John. She would not betray her brother by trying to tell John what might actually be going on.
"I know Darling," she gently pushed him to the chair. He sat down and pulled her into his lap. Then fumbled around in his jacket pocket, pulling an envelope out he handed it to her. She took it with shaking hands, her name was written on the thick blue envelope in Sherlocks stiff handwriting.
My Dearest Sister,
If you are reading this it is most likely because I am dead, or perhaps missing. I put it in a place that would require someone to go through my room. I'm sure John or Mrs. Hudson found it. In any case, I'm glad they have given it to you. I have only this to say to my Guardian Angel, my darling sister:
Till the stars had run away,
And the shadows eaten the moon.
Do not look for me. Do not work for Mycroft anymore…and lastly: Take care of our Doctor.
Forever,
Sherlock
Melaine closed her eyes and counted to five before she looked at John, his arms were around her, his head on her shoulder. "Where did you find this."
"In his coat pocket," John mumbled, then looked up at her with those sad blue eyes. "What does he say?"
"He quoted our favorite poem growing up. By Yeats," she sighed. She did not elaborate on the poem. John would know it meant something and she couldn't tell him.
"I've been trying to get ahold of you," John gazed at her. "But you never answered. I thought," his voice hitched, and he cleared his throat. "I thought perhaps something had happened to you as well. I couldn't bear to lose you both."
She bent down and kissed him, hungrily and with a need that surprised her. Whenever she was around John she was always taken by surprise. He kissed her back, returning the intensity, his hand grazing up her thigh and under her skirt, catching on one of her garters. He pulled away in surprise, and pushed up her skirt.
"Do you always wear garters?" he asked, his voice a bit ragged.
She laughed. "No Doctor, I do not always wear garters." Then she swooped down and kissed him again, Sherlock wasn't here to stop her this time around. Someone cleared their throat, that someone was Mycroft. John quickly pulled his hand off of Melaines thigh. "If its not one brother it's the other," she whispered into John's ear.
"I did not expect to find this…"Mycroft drifted off, staring daggers at John and his little sister. "Melaine, please go sit in my chair."
John pulled Melaine closer to him. "No, she stays here with me."
Melaine turned and looked at John. "Might I have one word with my brother alone?" she saw the sadness in his eyes. "Only a moment my Doctor."
He nodded stiffly and stood up, placing her delicately on the floor, the walked out of the room. Melaine looked up at Mycroft and handed him Sherlocks letter. Her brother scanned it quickly, crumpled it up and threw it in the blazing fire.
"Where is Moriarty?" he hissed.
"Frantically looking for me I suppose," she crossed her arms over her chest.
"Why were you kissing John Watson like that?" Mycroft demanded.
"Wouldn't you just love to know," Melaine purred.
"I'd like to punch him in the jaw," Mycroft paced the room. "I cannot believe that Sherlock allowed this."
"He never did," she sighed. "But he's not here right now. And John needs me."
Mycroft whipped around. "Sherlock needs you. You need to do your job!" he yelled.
John opened the door and walked in, Mycroft stared at him