Chapter 17

It had been four hours since she'd been locked up and Erika was starting to worry. Surely Mycroft would have collected her by now? It was just as she started to consider using her right to a phone call to ask Sherlock to pay bail when there was a soft tap at her door. She sat up just in time for the door to open. The officer watching her spoke.

"You're bail's been posted." He swung the door wide open and stepped aside, revealing a thin woman dressed in black business-wear with a blackberry grasped in her palms. She didn't look up as she stepped forward. "You're coming with me."

"Thought so," Erika said with a sigh. She stood up and, with a wink at the officer, walked out the door with the woman in front of her. Her officer took them to the elevator and called it for them. When it arrived, the two women stepped in and Erika spoke to her officer. "Thanks so much for letting me stay here! I'll give you a glowing review at reception."

She thought she saw a twitch of his lips at her comment and smirked, hiding a giggle. The woman, who had until then been silent, looked up from her phone, curious but still saying nothing. Eventually she looked back down at her blackberry as the doors opened. They walked out towards the exit, Erika noticing the glare she was getting from Donovan, and left the building where a large, black Jag was waiting for them. Smirking at the over dramatics, Erika climbed into the car after the woman and they took off.

"Erika Butler, but I assume you know that." The woman looked up with a smile.

"Yes, I do."

"And your name is…?" she prompted.

"Anthea," she said without looking up. Erika let out a laugh and looked out the window. There was silence between them for a while before Anthea looked up again, curious. "You're not going to ask where you're going."

Erika scoffed a little. "I know where I'm going."

The rest of the journey was made in silence, the only sound coming from Anthea as she typed on her phone replies to a never ending stream of emails. When they finally reached their destination, Anthea just motioned for Erika to get out. She did so and the car drove off. It was only then that Erika looked up.

A plaque saying The Diogenes Club confirmed her suspicions and she smiled. Walking inside, she remained as silent as possible but couldn't resist the urge to be a little naughty. She let her heels make a loud click on the marble floors, attracting everyone's attention as she walked. Eventually a man came up behind her and grabbed her. Normally she would have fought but she was aware of what was happening, so she went without a struggle.

She was taken into a room with two large chairs in the centre of it. After she was pushed into the room, the door was closed behind her. She smiled and turned in a circle, admiring the room around her. Then she sat in one of the chairs, facing the door so that when her host entered, she could see him straight away. It wasn't a long wait.

Not five minutes after she arrived, the door opened and Mycroft Holmes walked in. He was dressed well and carrying a large umbrella. On seeing her he smiled dryly, walking in and closing the door behind me. He walked to the other seat and sat, hanging his umbrella off the back of the chair. There was a long silence which Erika decided to break.

"It took you long enough to come for me. I thought I might have to call Sherlock." Mycroft looked up at her, his face a mask of indifference. Erika raised an eyebrow at him. "Conversations tend to work better if both party's speak."

"What is your connection to Sherlock Holmes?" Mycroft asked blankly. Erika was taken aback a little before gathering herself and managing a look of fake insult.

"I'm rather hurt you don't know."

"Oh, I do know," Mycroft said with a smile, leaning forward. "I'd just like to know what you think you are."

"I'm his…girlfriend," she answered, hating how mundane the word was. Mycroft raised an eyebrow before smirking a little and standing.

"Indeed you are, Miss Butler." He walked around his chair so he was standing behind it, resting his fingers on the leather. "And it is because of this, I've brought you here."

"Which brings me back to my original question," Erika said, leaning forward in her chair. Mycroft's brow furrowed in confusion and Erika sighed. "What took you so long?"

"Well until recently, you were dead." Erika bit her lip and looked up at the elder Holmes. He was staring down at her icily and she hated the angle of power he seemed to be implying. To overcome this, she stood. Now they were both at the same height, she saw something in his eyes he clearly didn't want her too. She saw guilt, and immediately knew what had occurred.

"You knew where I was." She staggered back, sitting in her chair. "You knew I was with him."

She put her head in her hands and Mycroft sighed, sitting back down. "We were watching James Moriarty and, by chance, I found you."

"And you didn't tell him?" She asked, less concerned for her own safety than for Sherlock's. She knew how fragile he had been for all that time and was shocked by his own brother's dismissal of a fact that would have put him out of his misery. Mycroft looked down at his hands briefly.

"I didn't want him in Moriarty's path again."

"Fine," Erika said. "What about me?"

"We were planning a way to get you out, but there were delays. And we didn't want to cross James Moriarty again unprepared. By the time everything was ready you were in…no state to travel."

Erika felt a knot settle in the pit of her stomach as all the air seemed to rush from the room. Mycroft seemed to notice this and quickly tried to fix the situation. "I am sorry for your loss. Yours and Sherlock's."

She permitted herself a single tear before sobering herself up and trying to appear impassive. "Why have you brought me here?"

"I want to know your intentions."

Erika allowed herself a soft laugh. "Isn't that usually a question for the man in the relationship?"

Mycroft half-smiled. "Yes, but it still stands."

"I have none," she answered honestly. "I don't think about it. But do you really think I'd do anything to hurt him?"

"You already have," he said sharply and Erika felt like she'd been slapped. Mycroft stood again and started to circle her chair. "You broke him, battered him, beat him and abused him."

Erika was staring down at her hands and Mycroft let out a sigh, standing in front of her. "And you have done him more good than he'll ever know."

He looked up, shocked and he smiled. "You may not be perfect for him, Miss Butler, but for some reason, he chose you. To be honest, until today I didn't think you were right for him."

"What changed?" Erika couldn't hold back the question that burst from her lips and Mycroft let out a soft chuckle.

"What changed is you punched a man who's had it coming for a long time in Sherlock defence. Something I've been meaning to see to for a long time."

"In that case," Erika said with a smirk. "You're welcome."

She stood and they shook hands. He motioned for her to leave and she smiled, opening the door. She was about to walk out when he called after her.

"Miss Butler?" She turned to see him standing, examining the tip of his umbrella. "Don't break him again, or I'll break you."

Erika couldn't help but smile at the comment. "Don't worry, he's never getting rid of me."

And with that, she walked out of the room, a grin plastered on her face. She walked back out of the building and the same black car was waiting for her, but Anthea was absent. Smiling she got in. "221B Baker Street."

When she arrived home it was a little passed seven. She raised her hand to knock on the door, as she didn't have a key, but her fist didn't make contact with the wood before Sherlock had thrown open the door.

"You're late."

"Sorry dear," she said, pressing a quick peck to his lips and walking inside. "But you and your brother both share a love of the dramatic that can't be rushed."

When they got to the top of the stairs, John was waiting for them, a book in his hands. He looked up when she entered and smiled. "Hey, what's the verdict?"

"Tentative approval, but, an approval none the less."

"Mycroft approves?" Sherlock said, amazed. Erika turned to him and nodded. He smirked at her. "Well we can't have that, you'll have to go."

"Not without a court order," she answered, grinning. Sherlock and John both let out a laugh and Erika went to the stairs and yelled down them unceremoniously. "Mrs Hudson! Come up here for dinner!"

A few moments later the landlady walked up, curious as to what was happening. "Erika dear, what's going on?"

"We're celebrating," Erika said, handing everyone a glass of wine.

"Sherlock, what's she on about?"

"She's drunk with power, Mrs Hudson."

"With what?"

"Mrs Hudson," Erika said, cutting across their conversation with a large smile on her face. "I, a mere mortal, have been given a personal approval from none other than Mycroft Holmes himself."

Mrs Hudson smiled and nudged Sherlock as Erika disappeared into the kitchen to make dinner. "I'm glad you've found someone who makes you happy. And someone who cooks, cleans and takes care of the old woman with the dodgy hip."

Sherlock smiled a little. "I know."