"He had come for us, hadn't he?" Scarlett checked as she followed Sherlock back out into the dark night air. Sherlock stood on the main street, looking for a cab whilst Scarlett stood close to him, looking around, and making sure there was no one watching her.

"Scarlett," Sherlock said in a grumble. "Stop looking so suspicious."

"What?" she replied. "I'm...Sherlock I'm petrified."

"You're really not cut out for this, are you?" he said with a small grin on his face.

"What?" she hissed "trying to be killed so that someone can get back at you? No. I'm not"

"Just act normal," he said, missing another cab, "keep your head down and take my hand."

"What?" Scarlett asked him, still looking around the streets which were still bustling at evening time.

"I said," Sherlock repeated, sounding quite bored as he looked at the red dot which was currently on her shoulder, "take my hand."

Scarlett slipped her bare hand into Sherlock's leather clad one before she felt him pull her suddenly to him and then he began running down the pavement, just as the sound of a gunshot hit the pavement.

"Don't look back!" Sherlock yelled at her, his hand keeping hold of hers as the two of them ran through the streets of London, pushing past people who yelled at them to watch where they were going. Scarlett struggled to keep up with Sherlock's long strides and her flat ballet pumps occasionally fell off her feet slightly. Sherlock continued looking ahead; sometimes looking back to make sure that she was keeping with him and not getting separated. Eventually, Sherlock managed to stick his hand out whilst he ran and hailed a cab, quickly pushing her into the cab. She collapsed onto the street whilst he remained outside the cab and looked around;

"Baker Street," Scarlett informed the cab driver as she panted and Sherlock finally settled beside her.

"Are you alright?" he asked her and she nodded, gasping for breath;

"Just...what happened? How did you know he was going to shoot at me?" Scarlett asked Sherlock and he looked at her reddening cheeks and pulled out something which had attached itself to her blonde hair.

"He had a sniper trained at you because there was a red dot on your shoulder," Sherlock said. "I knew if I told you then you would have began to hyperventilate and then we'd both have been in trouble,"

"No kidding?" Scarlett asked. "But thanks."

"Anytime," he smirked at her.

They spent the rest of the journey back to the flat in silence. Occasionally, Sherlock would look at Scarlett whilst she was looking away and then he felt her looking at him when he dropped his gaze. Eventually, they reached Baker Street and Sherlock climbed from the cab, placing his hand onto Scarlett's back and protectively leaning over her, moving into the building without thinking.

"I've been phoning you," John snapped when he saw Sherlock walk up the stairs and he and Scarlett both collapsed onto seats. Sherlock fell back into his sofa and Scarlett took to the plush armchair, removing her coat slowly.

"We've been slightly busy trying to get out of tight situations," Sherlock responded. "Someone in the lab tried to find us...and then there was a sniper on the building tops..."

"What?" John gasped. "And you're both okay?"

"Clearly John," Sherlock replied curtly. "Well...is she listening to us?"

John and Sherlock turned their gazes onto Scarlett who was simply looking at the fireplace mantle top as if it was the most intriguing thing she had seen in her entire life. Sherlock stood up again and moved over to her, crouching down as he waved a hand in front of her eyes, snapping her out of trance.

"Hm?" She asked Sherlock and he raised a questioning brow. "Sorry...I wasn't...well...just thinking...that's all."

"Care to share?"

"No," she replied. "It doesn't matter..."

"Pot of tea wouldn't go amiss," Sherlock hinted, looking at John as he remained crouched in front of Scarlett. Both of them looked at John and he finally got the message and moved quickly into the kitchen.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he checked with her.

"No." she said. "I...why do you think he killed the banker and left my locket...it's not like he could frame me for it; is it?"

"I am unsure at this moment in time," Sherlock admitted; his voice also a faint whisper. "But there has to be a reason for this...Moriarty doesn't do things randomly. He has a plan to everything."

"I just find it odd," Scarlett muttered. "As if...it is somehow...my fault because my locket was found there."

"None of this is your fault," Sherlock told her and she lowered her eyes from his gaze and he stood up. "You can't think like that"

"No," she agreed. "I'll be back in a moment," she said and stood up, moving past Sherlock as he watched her disappear into the bathroom. Once inside the bathroom, she sat on the closed toilet sit, dropping her head down as far as possible, feeling faint with the sudden day's events. It was crazy. Suddenly, she felt her phone in her front pocket vibrate. The number was unknown. Scarlett answered it slowly, standing up and shaking as she did so;

"Hello," she answered

"Miss Jenson," a high pitched male voice spoke down the phone. "Pleasure to speak with you."

"Who is this?" Scarlett asked.

"My name is Jim," he chuckled. "You may know me as Moriarty, depending on what Sherlock has been telling you."

"What do you want?" Scarlett asked him, her voice shaking as she paced up and down the room.

"Oh Miss Jenson," he said, his voice pitching differently. "As if it is not obvious. I thought leaving your locket at the crime scene would make it obvious."

"What?" Scarlett asked. "I know...I know you want...to kill me...but why?"

"It's a slight shame," Moriarty spoke. "To kill you; you seem like a nice girl. But you're not perfect are you? Not the type I would see Sherlock going for...speaking of Sherlock...how is he? Seeing as how he's been sleeping on the sofa recently I wondered if he's been even grouchier than normal."

"How do you know that?" Scarlett asked.

"I'm watching your every move Scarlett," he said lowly. "Very interesting how he kept you hostage for a while too...he did right...because I would have killed you easily if you left him."

"So you're watching us in the flat?" Scarlett asked and Moriarty chuckled;

"Got there eventually...there's cameras in every room...it was quite easy to do if I have to be honest with you. Of course, I don't do things like this myself. Get people to do my dirty work, much easier," Moriarty drawled.

"But why did you leave my locket there?" Scarlett wondered, trying to be quiet in the bathroom.

"To let you know that at every crime scene I shall leave a possession of yours which I took."

"You plan to make more crime scenes?" Scarlett gasped.

"Oh yes...and every time I leave your item there...it shall show you that it is dedicated to you...you'll always be reminded," he said.

"You're sick," Scarlett couldn't help but spit out. "Why? That's horrible...these can be innocent people..."

"Oh. They're hardly innocent my dear," he promised her. "But you can make it stop...and maybe if you do as I ask I may consider not hurting Sherlock as well. You don't want him to get hurt, do you?" he lied to her.

"Of course not," Scarlett answered quickly. "I don't want anyone to get hurt."

"Well you can stop the killings and keep Sherlock safe by doing a very easy thing," he promised her something that would never happen.

"What is it?" she whispered.

"Meet me someplace...let's say...Alex's Cafe...the place where Sherlock first asked you out," Moriarty said.

"How do you know that?" Scarlett muttered.

"I know everything dear," he said. "Be there in another three hours...and tell Sherlock where you're going too."

"No," Scarlett said. "You can't hurt him...your promised."

"I won't hurt him," Moriarty said. "I won't lay a finger on him."

"Why do you want him there?"

"To watch you die. To see him break down...to hurt him."

"Please don't make him come," Scarlett pleaded.

"You're not in the place to make demands!" he yelled at her down the phone. "Do it and you keep him safe and I stop dedicating my killings to you."

And with that, he hung up. Scarlett looked at her phone as it went back to the screensaver of her and her brother. Slowly, she placed her phone back into her pocket, splashing her face with cold water as she looked at her reflection in the mirror and then she pulled herself together.

...

"Where are you going?" Sherlock asked as Scarlett placed her coat onto her arms and she moved down the steps. Sherlock hurriedly grabbed his grey coat and scarf and followed her as he took the steps two at a time, rushing out into the cold night after her.

"Just for a walk," Scarlett whispered when Sherlock caught up with her. He nodded once, knowing where she was going to and he wasn't planning on letting her leave that easily.

"Didn't I tell you that you are a terrible liar? And also, if you plan to lie to me then you should get some practice at it," Sherlock warned her, resting his hand onto her shoulder, turning her around and making her look at him as he noted she had red eyes and had been crying.

"Sherlock..." she whispered. "He said..."

"I know," Sherlock said. "Let me guess, he promised not to kill me or anyone else if you gave yourself up?"

"Yes...but it has to be the best thing to do..."

"No," Sherlock said. "Those people who Moriarty kill Scarlett...people get him to kill them...he will kill people regardless of you being here or not...he just tried to twist your mind by leaving your locket with the corpse."

"What?" Scarlett asked and Sherlock nodded;

"You heard me," he said. "He is like some kind of hit man...but he gets other people to do the job for him...he doesn't dirty his hands...so deaths will happen regardless."

"He said...Sherlock...he said he won't kill you...if I go..." Scarlett said and Sherlock shook his head at her, his hand automatically going to her arm and pulling her closer to him;

"He lies Scarlett...he'll kill me when he wants to. He threatened that...come back with me...believe me..."

"I do believe you," Scarlett said. "I just don't know what to do"

"Yes you do," Sherlock assured her. "You don't go to him."

"He has cameras in your flat," Scarlett blurted out and Sherlock raised a brow;

"He placed them there? I'd always assumed Mycroft would do something like that," Sherlock stated blandly, shaking his head once again. "I'll have them removed as soon as possible then."

"Sherlock!" Scarlett snapped him out of a small trance he had gone into. "What do I do?"

"Everything he has told you has been a lie," Sherlock promised her. "He'll hurt people and will continue to even when you're stone cold in the morgue," he said, causing her to shudder.

"Really?" Scarlett checked and Sherlock nodded;

"Really," he said. "Now come back with me..." Scarlett hesitated for a moment and then looked down the street and back at Sherlock who was waiting patiently for her, before hse made her decision, trusting the man in front of her more than some criminal;

"Okay," Scarlett agreed, "How did you know?"

"That Moriarty had called you? I was removing the head from the fridge and I heard you muttering on the phone. I assumed Moriarty would be calling you eventually."

"This is madness," Scarlett said, walking back with Sherlock to 221B Baker Street. "To think I may have gone..."

"Well you didn't," Sherlock said curtly. "And next time anything like that happens I should hope you will tell me."

"I didn't know what to do," Scarlett murmured. "What will he do when he sees I don't go there and you don't follow?"

"Get mad," Sherlock drawled lightly. "He's good at that. But don't worry," Sherlock shrugged. "People will still die and you'll get your things back if he continues to leave them at crime scenes."

"That's horrible," Scarlett gasped. "I don't want them back. He can keep them. Lying git," she hissed and Sherlock chuckled as they walked back up the stairs, but before Scarlett could even enter the living room, Sherlock stood on the steps, pulling her back to him as they stood on the quiet steps and looked at each other;

"What is it?" she asked him and he said nothing;

"I'm just thinking," he said. "About being impulsive."

"Again?" Scarlett raised a brow and Sherlock nodded;

"I could have just lost you Scarlett," Sherlock whispered. "The only woman who has entertained me for a long period of time."

"Well you didn't," Scarlett said. "You managed to convince me he was lying."

"Hmm," Sherlock mused. "That's true...so just be quiet."

"Well I would be but I mean John is just up there and Mrs Hudson is downstairs so I don't think it's the time or the place and to be honest I'm still not completely positive what is going on, what with this Moriarty person lying to me and really wanting me dead to get to you...I'm just slightly confused and on edge," Scarlett whispered as she felt Sherlock draw closer to her as they remained stood on the steps and Sherlock rolled his eyes at her;

"Scarlett?" he checked with her.

"Yeah?" she wondered, watching his eyes move closer to hers;

"Just shut up," he instructed her.

"You could have said be quiet or something more polite Sherlock-" she began her nervous blathering but was cut off when she felt Sherlock gently press his lips to her, her hands held onto his skinny upper arms as he rested his hands softly onto her waist before pulling away from her, keeping it sweet and short.

"Whoa," Scarlett said.

"Hmm," Sherlock said, releasing her, allowing her to rest against the banister as he took the wall to lean on.

"This is so surreal," Scarlett said, her eyes going wide whilst Sherlock smirked smugly at her;

"I didn't know I had that effect on women," he grinned and she rolled her eyes and folded her arms;

"Don't flatter yourself," she instructed him, moving back up the steps to where John was sat;

"You two okay?" He asked. "I didn't know where you'd gone when I went to the bathroom."

"I'm fine," Scarlett smiled and Sherlock walked into the room, removing his coat again and yawning loudly;

"Another cup of tea wouldn't hurt John," he assured his flatmate as Scarlett sat down on the empty chair and he laid on his sofa, wondering where he had even got the nerve to kiss her from.

...

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