HI! I WILL TRY TO FINISH AS MANY CHAPTERS BEFORE I HAVE TO GO! I'm going to my cousin's place for about a week this coming Saturday, and I will be staying for about four-to-five days. I will try to post the next chapter tomorrow!

This is just short and needed to be added before we GET DOWN TO BUSINESS!

:D Thank you for all the alerts and reviews! Working on the next chapter *it will be the hardest to write* and hopefully I can get it up by tomorrow morning or maybe even tonight? It's 11:35pm so I'll do my best!

Rescue IIIIII

The night sky was perhaps the darkest it had been in what simply seemed like a lifetime, as the moon shone brightly, illuminating the still busy city below which writhed in the cold snowing and simply freezing season.

However, they were inside at the moment; the only real natural light was presenting itself through a few rather oversized windows, whilst thankfully, the cold was blocked out completely. The floor was black and white, clean and spotless, laying itself in a chequered sort of pattern, for lack of better words. The hall was quite large, as the soft and calming dance music played lightly in their ears, pumping softly from several gramophones around the party.

Sherlock, Simza, Watson and the older Holmes stood in a group, acting as if they were chatting quietly among themselves whilst they were really glancing around for any signs of the assassin or the madman professor himself. Sherlock only paid half his attention to the seemingly pointless and utterly fake conversation taking place, his eyes scanning around the room unsuspiciously whilst his shoulders were tense and his lips in a firm tight line. Mycroft on the other hand, seemed completely opposite to his younger sibling. His muscles were slumped lightly and his eyes not focused anywhere in particular. Simza and Watson had the same sort of feeling and stance, vigilant yet quite relaxed.

A short amount of time passed before Mycroft decided it that it was time to start the real discussion they had all been waiting for.

"Now we're all present I can tell you that the targets are the German chancellor and his ambassador, the French Prime Minister and his man, and the other nations are really working out which side to take should hostilities erupt then so..." Sherlock's thoughts drifted as he watched the nobles dances, chat and drink around the room, with all their heads held high and completely unaware of the disaster that were to take place should they fail. "...the Romanian Prime Minister and his ambassador and of course our Prime Minister and the British Ambassador.

The younger Holmes thought for a moment before speaking,

"We have to choose a moment when all the dignitaries are standing still... Is there to be an official photograph?" he asked in high hopes.

Much to his fortune and delight his brother answered,

"Indeed, yes, in erm..." he took a look at his authentic pocket watch before calculating the time and replying "thirty-eight minutes"

"In which case we might as well dance" a light smirk lightened Sherlock's lips and reached his eyes.

He stuck out his left hand to Simza who didn't take but only looked at his gloved fingers. She hesitated before saying,

"I've never done this before" with a reluctant tone. Sherlock tilted his head and gave her an assuring look,

"Just" he took her hand gently and began walking, "follow" he paused and glance around, "my" he placed his free hand on her waist and she his neck, "lead". The stood for a moment then began swaying in time with the rhythm of the music. Simza stared behind Holmes as he held her close and he did the same, twirling every once in a while to find anything strange or suspicious.

His eyes became fixated and Simza only stared, her feet completely in sync with his as much as they were with the soft classic music. After a few more sways and turns he tilted his head and his eyes drifted faster than Simza had ever seen.

"What do you see?"

"Everything." She attempted to follow his gaze but his eyes were too fast for hers. She looked up at him once more and waited until he spoke, "that is my curse."

"But you don't see what you're looking for..."

They danced awhile longer, Holmes eyes trailing every detail even the tiniest and most unnoticeable, his mouth slightly ajar but his lips close together. He did not twitch, flinch or even look up as Simza accidently treaded on his shoe whilst her eyes had been completely entranced with his.

They turned and swayed until Holme's sharp eyes caught something; or more someone. They broke off and headed towards Watson and Mycroft whom simply waited and watched.

Holme's stuck his right hand out to John, whom sighed and said,

"Thought you'd never ask"

Watson took his hand after a small and almost inaudible sigh. Holme's offered him a look slightly amused look but he gingerly ignored it and challenged with a knowing look of his own. Placing each hand in the other's hand, they began to sway and twirl with the music, their feet in complete and full rhythm with each other, not even once slightly brushing against their tip or missing a beat.

After a short minute or so, Sherlock's eyes met Watson's own pair and signalled silently that they were where they were supposed to be,

"Over my shoulder" Watson raised his chin slightly and observed, "Young man, German uniform, ceremonial sword" he paused his tone for a moment as he waited for the doctor to collect his thoughts and ideas.

"Got him" John confirmed.

"Professional opinion?"

Watson glanced around once more before mending his gathered judgements into words, "Trauma. Major injury..." he trailed off for a moment, "with excellent repair work" he added, "Doctor Hoffman's style"

They turned and twirled a little more,

"You did say he was at the forefront of medical innovation, we've already seen an example of his skill" he remembered the past events to do with surgical doctor and his 'unfortunate' and utterly 'accidental' decease.

"Those twins weren't twins" Watson realised, staring at Holme's expression. For a moment he expected surprise then figured, of course he's already figured it out... shaking his head he cleared his mind for a second flat. But just WHEN had he done so?

"My suspicions were aroused when one failed to go to the end of the other... I also noticed the discreet but unmistakable puckering behind the ear where the skin had been torn back. I should have realised then that they were a surgical experiment." He finished and gazed at his shoes for a mere moment before concentrating on the scene around them.

"To see if it is possible to make one man look like another..."

"His face is no longer his own" Sherlock confirmed, their pace not slowing. "What better way to guarantee the world war than to make the assassin..."

"One of the ambassadors..." Watson's eyes widened slightly even though he knew something like this was bound to happen.

The broke of as the tune stopped playing and began talking odd yet extremely even steps to the side, where Simza and Mycroft waited most patiently. Chatter had begun to erupt, but neither of the pair paid any attention to it at all... they both gazed around once more,

"That narrows it down to one of six..." Holmes stated, he and Watson were walking around the dance floor in the middle and staring at each of the six suspects. "You and Sim shall find her brother... of this I have no doubt..."

"Holmes..."

"You know my methods" he said sharply as they both stopped and turned towards each other.

"And I know where you'll be"

They stared into each other's eyes; the words unspoken just seemed so loud and clear. Holmes cleared his throat for a moment, be most alert and cautious Watson old boy, you will do fine. I sincerely apologise but I must do this... Whilst Watson's only trend of thought was; don't do this Holmes. No matter how clear and evident the sight was, none took notice of their other friend's warning and apologise.

It lasted for another minute or so before a single new tune of music started playing through the gramophones around the ballroom, and without a second thought or so, Holme's spoke to reassure the doctor,

"No possible solution could be more congenial to me than this" the stopped for a short but rather meaningful moment, until, "By the way, who taught you how to dance?" Holmes asked as light smile gracing his lips in traditional and real light hearted humour.

"You did" Watson returned the smile in a way just as strong will as his closest friend.

"Well, I've done a fine job"

They both shared glad, amused and for once an honest friendly smirk that was not either forced or used a last thread of hope of simply keeping them safe or sane, sometimes even both. Watson turned his head from Holmes, his smiled still there-

"Be careful" Holmes just nodded and looked back once before he left through the doors leading to the balcony which the guard calmly stood by, keeping watch on all the guests. Watson turned to see Sherlock whispering something into his ear and handing him a paper before leaving through the narrow entrances. Both their thoughts drifted to something so different yet so truly alike-

You'd better come back in the end of this Holmes, I won't accept any exceptions- and DON'T apologise.

I am most likely not coming back in the very finality of this ordeal Watson old boy, please do make an exception, I do apologise.

R&R

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