*Hello lovelies! I have a secret for you all. I've been writing at work (oops!) instead of working. No worries though, I'm all caught up and decided to take a breather from staring at horrible handwriting all day. I hope you all enjoy this. I wanted to make it a happy(ish) chapter because the next episode of the show is downright upsetting and I'm dreading writing it. I wanted to say thank you all so so much for reading it. It makes me extraordinarily happy to see that people are enjoying what I'm writing. I hope all of you have a wonderful day and thank you so much again.*

Chapter 13: Meetings and Plans

I looked out the window, my book on nursing untouched on the table. I'd wanted to study since I started working at the clinic. I'd even been looking into classes to take. Sherlock had been right when he'd said that I needed to be doing something instead of only sitting behind a desk taking phone calls. Sherlock was in the kitchen, working on some sort of experiment. I had been dreading this day the entire week. My leg bounced up and down as I sat in the chair and he sighed.

"What are you doing?"

"Hmmm?"

"What are you doing? Why are you bouncing your leg?"

"Oh. Sorry." I forced myself to stop, still looking out the window. I began to drum out a rhythm on the arm of the chair. Sherlock sighed again.

"Didn't you have an appointment of some kind at 2:30?"

"Yes."

"Well, it's 1:50 now. Don't want to be late, do you?"

I got to my feet, frowning at Sherlock. "I'm sorry, am I irritating you?"

"A bit, yes. I'm trying to focus on my work."

I ran a hand through my hair, making it stand on end. Sherlock looked up at me, frowning. "You look a mess."

"Thanks. You're too kind."

"Come here."

I approached him and he ran his fingers through my hair, combing through it quickly. I stood there patiently, waiting for him to finish. He stepped back and seemed somewhat satisfied, giving a quick nod. "Now you look presentable. Go to your appointment. I should be here when you get back."

I was nearly out the door when I heard Sherlock say something else. I poked my head back in. "What was that?"

"I said do you have your keys and your gun?"

I held my keys up in my hand and pulled back the jacket, revealing my pistol in its holster. "Do I ever leave the house without them?"

Sherlock smiled. "Good. We're still going to the pool tonight, right?"

"Yes. You need to learn how to swim. It's a useful skill to have in your repertoire, seeing as I may not be there the next time you end up in the water."

"Alright. I will see you back at the flat at six then."

I gave him a smile. "See you then."

I left the flat, heading out the door and onto the sidewalk. I hailed a cab, getting into the back quickly.

"Where ya headin' miss?"

"The Woseley. Get me there before two-twenty and there'll be a good tip in it for you."

The cab driver nodded, weaving through the streets. I sighed, resting my head against the glass. I'd had to lie to Sherlock all week, no easy task, especially when he pestered me day and night about what was bothering me.

That wasn't the only thing that was bothering me. There was a dream that was trapped in my mind, one that I could only catch glimpses of throughout the day. I knew it had to do with that stupid playground and that night in February, but I couldn't remember it. It was always out of my reach, only appearing when I was asleep. I sighed, looking out at the dreary sky. Mycroft had picked a heck of a day to have this meeting. I still hadn't been able to figure out what for either.

I arrived at The Woseley at quarter past and I gave the driver a forty percent tip. He thanked me profusely before driving off, leaving me to stand outside the building, staring at the establishment.

"Well, he definitely knows how to pick his restaurants, I'll give him that much," I muttered under my breath, entering quickly. I stepped up to the maître de. "I'm here to meet-"

"Right this way Ms. McKinley. Mr. Holmes has been expecting you."

I followed the gentleman, mildly irritated that Mycroft was already waiting for me. I noted that he'd managed to book the private room. It made me even more irritated with the man. How in the world was he able to pull so many strings? I stood at the head of the table, watching Mycroft as he read the paper.

"Ah, Delilah. You've finally arrived," he said, never bothering to look up. "Sit down dear. We're having a bit of an early tea today. I've already made arrangements for it."

"You knew I'd come early?"

"Of course! You're early to everything you attend, unless an absolute emergency comes up. A habit your father instilled in you I believe?" He put the paper down, offering me a smile. "Sit. Please. We've much to discuss."

I slowly sat down in the chair that had been pulled out for me. "What do you want Mycroft?"

He gave me a smile. "Already down to business. I like that. Another habit that you picked up from your father, correct? Straight to the point, don't beat around the bush."

I forced myself to take a deep breath, doing my best to keep calm. "You have questions as to why I'm with Sherlock."

The smile fell from his face. "A bit brighter than you let on, aren't you? A shame that you let emotions get in the way of everything. You could be my assistant if you weren't so soft."

"I'm already helping someone else. If this is about a job offer, I'm not interested."

"This is about your intentions towards my little brother."

The silence in the room was deafening as the waiter brought in the tea. Mycroft and I stared at each other, our gazes never wavering even as we were served. When the waiter left, Mycroft smiled, sitting back in his seat. "You know, unlike my brother, I can see right through you."

"Can you now?" I asked, taking a sip of my tea. "Please, tell me exactly what it is you see. Because I can guarantee you, like your brother before, you'll get it wrong."

"No no. I'll save my observations for a later date. Right now, I want to ask you one simple question. What are your intentions towards my little brother?"

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Since when do you care about anything except your reputation?"

"Since my brother nearly died in your company."

I flinched at his words. "Yes, well, he didn't, so we've nothing to discuss."

"Quite the contrary. We have everything to discuss because of that. You do realize that by being around my brother with your sister still free, that that puts him in danger correct? And by doing that, you have made it my business to get involved. I am here to give you two choices." Mycroft took a sip of his tea. "One, you move back to Ireland, stay with your aunt and uncle, and don't contact my brother. Or two, you move back to Ireland on your own and don't contact my brother." He took another sip. "Whichever you choose, all expenses will be paid and all debts with the hospital will be declared paid in full. I believe that the government would even be willing to pay you a small sum of money each month for all of the trouble that you went to, as well as help you find another job as a paralegal and assume a new identity."

"And if I don't choose either one of those?" I asked softly, trying to hide my trembling hands.

"Well then, consider yourself in debt up to your eyeballs with creditors hounding you day and night. Also, you'll find it very hard to find a job outside of that little office that you're working at." He gave me a small smile. "The ball is in your court Delilah. I will tell you, I don't think you're good enough for him. He deserves much better than you at the very least. Dating a thief, I mean honestly, what was he thinking? You're lucky that your sister kept the evidence that she had on you or else those two options wouldn't be on the table and you would be locked away in a cell."

I fought to control the rage building inside my chest. "I'm not leaving him. Take your money and shove it up your ass."

Mycroft smiled. "How did I know that you were going to say that? Let me guess, you love him."

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't. What of it? Do you have questions about it since you've obviously never been in love before? I'd be more than happy to answer them if it means you'll leave us alone."

He chuckled, pulling a book from his pocket, flipping through the pages. "That's quite funny. It almost wounded me. Almost being the key word." He leaned forward in his seat, dropping his voice. "Let me tell you something Delilah dear. You are playing a very dangerous game and are in way over your head. I'll give you until midnight tonight to reconsider my offer." His smile was almost wolfish. "There are worse things that could happen to you besides your time in the warehouse. Keep that in mind."

I felt as though I couldn't breath. My head was spinning. I got to my feet quickly, shaking violently. Mycroft only looked up at me, still smiling. "What's the matter dear? Going so soon?"

I left the room, pushing past the waitstaff and customers. I didn't bother apologizing. I didn't care. I could feel my breath coming in shallow gasps, my heart racing in my chest. I made it out onto the street, heading in the direction of Baker Street. I fumbled for the phone in my pocket, scrolling through my short list of contacts before hitting the call button.

It rang once, twice. "God woman, what on earth could you want-"

"Sherlock?"

His tone changed immediately. "What's the matter? Why are you out of breath?"

"I'm...I'm fine…" I fought back tears even as I walked down the street.

"You're not. What's wrong? What happened? Where are you?"

"Walking home. I'm fine...we...we need to talk when I get home, okay?"

"Delilah, what is going on? Is it your mother? Your sister?"

"No, neither. I'll be...home in about twenty minutes. Could you make me a cup of coffee?"

"Is your asthma bothering you? What happened to the inhaler I gave you?"

"I ran out. John's going to write me a prescription when he gets back."

"Can you wait that long?" I could tell he was concerned and that made the pain in my heart so much worse.

"I can. I'll be home soon and then we'll talk."

I hung up the phone before he could reply, walking down the street, the tears still flowing. What was I to give up? My life or my heart?

I found Sherlock pacing the living room when I returned. I stood in the doorway, watching as he stopped to look up at me. "Coffee's on the table. You're not cyanotic, which is a good sign. What did you need to talk about?"

"My meeting I had. Sherlock, I…" I felt the tears begin to flow once more. "I'm leaving. Tomorrow. I can't stay here anymore. I'm going back to Ireland. There's too much that has happened in the past few months and I can't take it anymore."

He froze, staring at me, searching my face. "You met my brother, didn't you?"

"What? No!"

"Don't lie to me. I'd recognize that smell on your clothes anywhere. You went to The Woseley for an early tea and he told you to leave me alone. Gave you options didn't he? Told you to leave or else he'd make your life hell?" Sherlock began pacing once more and I could tell that he was angry. "So, that's why you're fleeing. I thought you were braver than that. He's all bark and no bite, that's what you need to realize and he's overprotective."

"I wasn't fleeing!" I protested.

"You told me not two seconds ago that you were leaving to go back to Ireland. I don't know what dictionary you've read or looked at, but that is the definition of fleeing." Sherlock stopped to look at me and I watched as he frowned. "What? Why are you crying?"

"B-because...I'm not good enough for you Sherlock. You deserve better than me."

"So Mycroft says. But what he says doesn't matter. It's what I say that does. And I say that if I did not want you or thought you too flawed to be with me, then I would have kicked you out a long time ago." Sherlock approached me, wiping the tears away from my eyes. "Stop your crying. You're not one of those that's pretty when they cry. You're much prettier when you smile."

I looked up at him in shock before I let out a small laugh. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"So I've been told. Now, what did my brother tell you?"

I told Sherlock the entire story as I drank my coffee, Sherlock listening to every word.

"I have a plan."

"Sherlock. What a pleasant surprise. I wasn't expecting to speak with you for another six months."

"Mycroft. You and I need to have a discussion." Sherlock glanced up at me as I stared at the phone sitting on the kitchen table.

"Oh dear. Is it about this Delilah girl that you've been fawning over? She has left, hasn't she?"

"Yes, she has. And I don't understand why you felt it necessary to send her away."

"Because dear brother, there are certain things that you do not need to involve yourself with. Thieves are one of them. Love is another."

I sneered at the phone, but bit my tongue, taking Sherlock's hand instead. He gave it a gentle squeeze. "I want to meet you. Tonight. London Aquatic Centre. Midnight."

"I have something I need to do at midnight."

"Eleven-thirty then. And don't say that the place is closed. I know that you can get us in there without being seen." There was a pause. "We need to talk and you know it."

"Fine, I will see you at eleven-thirty. Don't be late."

Sherlock hung up the phone without replying, looking up at me. "How long do you think that I can hold my breath for?"

"Hopefully long enough," I replied before looking out the window.

Eleven-thirty couldn't get there quick enough.

I sat at the top of the high dive, trying to ignore my racing heart. I could see Sherlock from the edge, waiting for his brother. I glanced down at my watch. 11:28. Mycroft should be there any minute. I quickly laid down on the board when I heard the door open.

"Brother! You're actually on time for once. Are you ill?"

"Not at all. I wished to get this over with as soon as possible. Why did you send her away?"

Mycroft sighed and I could see even from that distance that he was irritated. "Because she's not good for you Sherlock. She was poisoning your mind with all of her romantic nonsense. You're barely focused on anything other than her."

"I don't have a case at the moment, so what does it matter?"

"Because when you do have a case, you're still going to be distracted. I merely got her out of the way for you, saved you a bit of heartbreak." He examined his fingernails. "Is that all you wished to discuss?"

"Let her come back and stay with me. Whatever threats you made, unmake them. She is important to me."

"How so? Because she has tits and will spread her legs for you? Did you forget that she spread her legs for eight other gentlemen?"

Sherlock moved quickly, grabbing Mycroft by the front of his shirt, throwing him against the wall. "She was raped and tortured. She didn't ask for it."

Mycroft chuckled, wiping the blood at the corner of his mouth. "Attacking your own brother over a woman? This is so unlike you. You really care about her, don't you? Or are you infatuated with her because she saved your life?"

Sherlock swung and Mycroft caught his arm. I could see the rage radiating off of the two men even from that distance. Sherlock's eyes were blazing whereas Mycroft's were cold.

"You will not strike me again Sherlock. Enough of your childish games. You've gotten your time to play house. Now it's over."

"I love her."

Mycroft laughed, the sound echoing off the walls. "No, you don't. You can't love anyone. It's not in your vocabulary."

"It is since I met her. Now bring her back."

"No."

Sherlock tried swinging with his free arm and Mycroft caught it. I knew that Sherlock had pushed him to the breaking point. It's what we'd discussed at the kitchen table after Sherlock had gotten me to calm down. We'd also discussed what would happen next.

'I will make him angry with me. So angry that he loses his temper. It may take a bit. But when he does, in that space, where is he going to push me to? The pool. And what can't my brother or I do?'

"Swim," I murmured, watching as Mycroft did as Sherlock had predicted, shoving him into the deep section of the pool. "I hope you can hold your breath Sherlock."

"Oh God," I heard Mycroft say even as he realized what he'd done. "Oh God. Sherlock? Sherlock! Someone! Anyone! HELP!"

I got to my feet, taking a few steps backwards before making a running leap towards the edge. My heart raced even as I jumped. The world seemed to slow down even as the water loomed ever closer. I hit hard, plunging deep into the water. Sherlock was struggling to keep himself from the bottom of the pool and I swam towards him.

'When I grab you, I need you to help me. I can't lift you up to the surface again. Carrying that much dead weight is difficult. So I need for you to keep calm and kick hard,' I said to him at the table.

I wrapped one arm around his waist, wrapping his left around my neck. I kicked hard, heading for the surface. When our heads broke, we both took huge gasps for air. I helped him swim to the edge, Mycroft grabbing him by the back of his shirt, hoisting him out of the water. I lifted myself out, going to stand in front of Mycroft, who stared at me, dumbfounded.

"We all make mistakes Mycroft, even with the ones we love," I said softly, my gaze never wavering. "I will not leave him. I love him. That being said," I struck him, open palm, across the face. "If you ever say anything about my rape again and make light of it or use it against Sherlock or I, I will do more than slap you."

His eyes narrowed even as he rubbed at his cheek. Finally, he sighed, watching as Sherlock went to stand beside me, taking my hand. "I see that this is how it will be. Fine. I will have her medical expenses paid and all debt gone. If she ever wants to leave the practice she can do so freely."

"Thank you," I murmured before looking up to Sherlock. "Shall we go home?"

We began to walk away when Mycroft shouted, "You'll learn! Both of you will, that happily ever after doesn't exist. Especially not for you, Sherlock."

We continued walking, leaving Mycroft to stand there by the pool.

"Do you think he'll leave us alone?" I asked as we got out onto the street, ignoring the curious looks from passer-by.

"Highly doubtful. He doesn't care much for you. I doubt he'd care much for any woman that I dated."

"What will we do then if he decides to do something like this again?"

Sherlock gave me a small smile, turning me towards him, pressing a kiss to my lips. "Why we prove him wrong Lila. We prove him wrong."

"Ms. McKinley! Ms. McKinley!" I turned to look at the boy with his hand up in the air and I gave him a smile.

"Yes Lucas? What is it?"

"Will you spar with George? Please? You always have us sparring, but we've never seen you."

I looked at George, who shrugged. "I'm fine with sparring. Show the kids what they can accomplish."

I sighed, going to the gym bag that I'd brought with me, taking out my mouth guard. "Fine. But all of you need to go and sit against the wall and don't move."

The sixteen kids all giggled, going to join their parents sitting against the wall. I rolled the mat out before putting my mouth guard in. I hadn't intended to spar, especially not with George, who hadn't been studying for as long as I had. He'd only had his black belt for three years, whereas I'd had mine since I was seventeen.

I stepped up to the mat, bowing to George as he stepped forward. He bowed as well and I gave him a small smile, motioning for him to come at me. He lunged forward and I stepped out of his way. I let him go, waiting for him to tire himself out as he tried to land a blow. I merely blocked each strike, the children giggling as they watched. He was out of breath after about five minutes and I smiled.

"Ready?" I asked the children, voice muffled because of the mouth guard.

"Yes!" They all chimed in and I chuckled.

"You ready George?"

"Stop blocking and come at me!"

I smiled. "You asked for it."

Ten minutes later and I was helping George up from the mat for the fourth time. He was out of breath and the children were all watching, wide-eyed, mouths agape. Lucas began to clap slowly and soon the entire group joined in. I blushed, bowing deeply. As I straightened up, I saw Sherlock standing by the doorway. I looked at all the children, smiling.

"Alright! That's the end of the lesson for today. I hope our sparring didn't frighten any of you. That was an example of what you'll be able to do if you practice hard. Next lesson will be next Thursday at four o'clock. Remember to keep practicing and parents, if you have any questions, please feel free to call me. My number is on the bottom of the form that was given to you at the beginning of the lesson."

They all moved to leave and I looked at George. "You alright?"

"Fine," he said, grimacing as he moved towards the desk. "Right as rain. I'll be needing a warm bath, but I'm fine."

"Ms. McKinley! Ms. McKinley!" Lucas shouted, bounding up to me.

I knelt down in front of him. "Yes Lucas? What is it?"

"I wanted to tell you how bloody brilliant you were! It was like watching a movie on the telly! I want to be like you! Do you promise you'll teach me?"

"Of course," I said, ruffling his hair, watching as Sherlock moved to look behind the desk. "You have to keep up your practice though. But I'll see you next week, alright? Have your mum call me if you or her have any questions."

"Alright! Bye Ms. McKinley!"

"Good-bye Lucas."

I got to my feet, going to stand in front of Sherlock. "What are you doing here? I told you I wasn't going to finish my class until four-thirty."

"I know. I wanted to come and take you to dinner."

I raised an eyebrow. "You never ask me to dinner. What's the matter?"

Sherlock sighed. "Go and get dressed. We'll talk about it on the way as we walk."

"Sherlock, is everything alright?"

"For now. But the game is on. Or almost on anyway. Never mind. Go and get dressed. We'll talk when you're done."

I sighed, going into the private locker rooms. I froze when I saw who was sitting in front of my locker, doing her make-up.

"Hello sister dear!" Olivia turned to give me a wide grin. "Have fun at your lesson?"

"What are you doing here?" I asked, keeping my voice low, cursing myself for having left my gun in my locker.

"Came by to stop for a chat. Your boyfriend, he's a handsome fellow, isn't he?"

"What are you doing here?" I snarled, hands forming fists.

"Well, it seems that we have a bit of unfinished business. I mean, you had most of my men locked away, my weapons and machine confiscated." She sniffed. "But the one thing you forgot to get is me. I needed a bit of time away from you of course. I was very cross with you. But I haven't forgotten about my dear old sister, oh no. Instead, my boyfriend and I have been working on a very special present for you and yours."

I felt my skin crawl as the conversation seemed vaguely familiar. Had we already discussed this before? "Who on earth would want to date you? Who is sick and twisted enough to have a relationship with you?"

Olivia laughed. "Oh! So you don't remember! Fascinating. Well then, I believe I'll leave it as a surprise. Give mommy dearest my love. We'll be chatting soon." She began to walk out through the back entrance and was nearly out the door when her head poked around the corner. "Oh and you may want to stop your boyfriend from drinking that water on the counter. Its got a bit of a nasty surprise if he does."

My face paled and I dashed forward grabbing my gun from my locker before running out of the locker room. My sister's laugh echoed through my mind even as I skidded out in time to see George grabbing the bottle from the counter, nervous as he spoke to Sherlock. Time slowed down as I raised my gun, pointing it at the bottle.

But Sherlock was faster than I was and he knocked the unopened bottle to the floor. I stood there, hand shaking as I continued to aim where the bottle had been. I was frozen, unable to even comprehend what had happened. Sherlock stepped beside me, grabbing my arm gently even as George stared at me with frightened eyes.

"Finger off the trigger," Sherlock murmured. "Easy now. Easy. Take your finger off of the trigger and lower the gun."

I took a deep breath, shaking myself even as I tucked the gun into my belt. "Sorry about that George."

"W-what's going on?" George stammered out and I could tell that I had frightened him. "Why do you have that?"

"Personal protection," Sherlock answered, not looking up from his phone as he sent a text. "Don't touch that bottle. The police should be here any minute. I suggest closing for the day and going home to hug your girlfriend."

"But I don't have a-"

"Yes you do. And you should be happy that you have her. I'm guessing you all have been together at least a year, judging by the wear and tear on the seat of your moped. Also, you smell of women's deodorant, meaning that you got ready without a light on and grabbed hers instead of yours by mistake." Sherlock was grinning from ear to ear. "Now, I'd like to ask you to stop trying to date Lila. It's quite annoying receiving your drunk texts at two in the morning on the weekends."

I wrinkled my nose. "You have a girlfriend?"

"Well, we're on a break!"

I shook my head. "You're a pig. I'm going to go and get dressed. Sherlock, I'll be out in about ten minutes and then we'll go to dinner. You have a lot to explain."

"As do you. I'll deal with Lestrade when he arrives."

I got dressed quickly, glancing around at every sound. The fact that she could so easily appear bothered me. She was like a ghost in that regard. I wanted to scream, to cry. Mostly, I wanted to shoot her and end her miserable life.

'And I thought Sherlock's brother was bad,' I thought to myself even as I tugged my simple t-shirt over my head. 'At least his wants to look out for him. Mine wants to kill me.'

I sighed even as I exited, finding Sherlock deep in conversation with Lestrade. George was being interrogated by another officer and I took a deep breath before forcing a smile. "Greg! So good to see you! Haven't heard from you since the wedding. How've you been?"

"Fine. I hear you're getting yourself into trouble."

"No, not at all. Had a visitor is all."

"Your sister?" He asked and I winced. "Is this the first time that she has contacted you?"

"Since February, yes."

"No contact with her since then?"

I bit back a retort, only raising my eyebrow at him. "Greg, haven't we had this discussion before? I seem to recall how it ended the last time. Do you really want to go there again?"

"I...erm, alright, I will mark that down as a no contact since February. Will you be available later on in the evening to give us a statement? Sherlock told us that you have a doctor's appointment in twenty minutes."

"I'll be available around eight I should say. Was going to clean the flat today."

"Good luck with that," Lestrade muttered under his breath. "We'll be in touch."

Sherlock and I left, brushing past police officers and forensics, noting that there were quite a few in hazmat suites. We walked down the street a ways before Sherlock began talking.

"I've been working on a case."

"Without me."

"Yes."

"Why? I thought we were going to work together."

"We are. I've been doing some...preliminary research on my own."

I continued walking, adjusting the gun tucked into my waistband. I'd left the holster at home, as I didn't want to make it more obvious that I was carrying a weapon. "So, when were you going to tell me?"

"Today. Or tomorrow. I figured that the sooner I told you though, the better it would be."

"Who are we investigating?"

Sherlock's eyes grew cold and distant. "His name is Charles Magnussen. He's-"

"He's a Danish businessman who owns several newspapers. I saw the notes on your desk. Why are you interested in him?"

"Because, my dear, blackmail is quite illegal. That and someone asked me to clear their husband's name. The game is about to be on, Delilah, and I need to know that no matter what happens, you'll still be there for me at the end."

"Sherlock, what on earth are you talking about?" I stopped on the corner to look up at him, a frown on my face. "What is the point of this conversation?"

"Delilah...do you remember Janine?"

I sat staring at the pizza, unable to look at Sherlock as he stood by the window. I was seething with rage. I hadn't spoken to him the entire way back to the flat even as he tried to explain his plan. I couldn't believe him. I was actually supposed to go along with his plan and be happy about it? I was supposed to let her waltz in, sleep with him, and be completely fine.

I opened my mouth to say something, but then closed it again. I couldn't form one coherent thought that didn't involve a string of curse words. I didn't want to say anything that I would regret. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I reached for it, flipping it open.

Hey! John and I got back in town last night. I meant to text you earlier. How've you been? How are things going? I've missed you so much. We'll have to catch up one day after work. -MW

Sherlock put you up to this, didn't he…? -DM

Well, that didn't take you long to figure out. Damn. How did you know?- MW

Because you two returned two nights ago and we had a girl's night out planned for next week already before you left. That and I saw Sherlock texting someone about ten minutes ago. -DM

I swear, the more you live with that man, the more you begin to act like him. What happened? Have you two had a spat? -MW

He broke up with me. -DM

I heard Sherlock's phone begin to ring not two minutes after I sent the message to Mary. He answered it, wincing and holding it away from his ear. I grabbed a slice of pizza, watching the explosion.

"Now now, Mary, calm down. This isn't good for the baby." He sighed. "Well, I wanted to see someone else. No, I'm not telling you who. Go ahead and tell John, that's fine. Oh. Hello John." He glanced over at me in irritation as I calmly ate my pizza. "Well, she and I have our differences. Like toothpaste. And she puts the toilet paper on under when you know that I like it over." More silence. "It may seem ridiculous to you, but those are dealbreakers for me. Yes, she'll continue to live here. I don't know, she hasn't spoken to me since we got back. She took her pizza up to her room and left me downstairs. Fine. I will apologize to her. Talk soon."

Sherlock ended the call and I looked up at him, still feeling angry, but not as much as I had been before the phone call. I thought that he'd gotten what he deserved for asking me to go along with such a stupid plan. He sighed, sitting down in his chair. "Well, that went well."

"So I heard." I put a slice of pizza on a plate, handing it to him. "It worked then?"

"I'd say so. I...didn't want to do this to you. I-"

I held up my hand to him. "You owe me Sherlock. Big time. Especially if I have to tolerate that idiot being in our flat."

"Our flat?"

"Well, so long as she doesn't find out that we're still seeing each other, yes. It's our flat. Just like you're my boyfriend." I tossed the crust onto the plate, grabbing another piece. "Unless you forgot that your relationship is going to be pretend with Janine."

Sherlock smiled. "You are probably the only woman that wouldn't fly off the handle about this."

"Oh, believe me when I say Sherlock, that I am still absolutely infuriated with you about this entire situation. But, if this is for the good of England, then I'll participate." I gave him a small smile. "Don't expect me to be nice to her though. And if she takes up too much time in the bath, I will say something."

He chuckled and I watched as he took a bite of the pizza. "Fine. You don't have to be nice. But please try and tolerate her. For me. I don't need her running off."

We ate in silence and when we finished, I put the other half of the pizza away in the refrigerator. I turned, finding Sherlock standing directly behind me. "Jesus Sherlock, are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"Lila, will you dance with me?"

I realized that he'd put music on in the background and had cleared a small space in the living room. I nodded my head slowly, taking his hand. "Trying to be romantic after upsetting me, eh?"

"I wanted to show you that I do feel bad for doing this to you. I know you heard what I said in the pool." We began to waltz our way around the living room.

"I did. I also hear you call me that nickname a lot. When did that start?"

"When I started loving you," he said simply and my jaw dropped.

"I...I never thought that I would hear you say those words to me. Or anyone for that matter."

"Well, I don't really know how else to express my feelings for you. These past six months...they've been a whirlwind. I hated you to start out. Absolutely loathed you. Then, when we were working the case together, I began to tolerate you. And after you saved my life, I began to trust you." Sherlock gave me a small smile, tucking a curl behind my ear. "When we made love the first time, I realized that I didn't want to be apart from you. When you were tortured for a week, I realized that my heart could break and that I cared deeply for you. When I saw you with that gun to your head, even though I knew there were no bullets in there, it terrified me, the idea of losing you. And now...having lived with you all this time and seeing you come out of your shell, seeing you recover from everything...it made me realize that I love you and that perhaps I could take a chance on you."

I watched in shock as he stopped dancing, getting down to one knee in front of me. "I don't know how to do romantic. I don't know how to express myself properly. I am impossible to deal with and even more impossible to love. But, somehow, you've managed to do it. You've managed to open me up, become a more emotionally expressive person." He pulled a blue velvet box from his pocket, opening it up to reveal a beautiful heart-shaped garnet ring, with two small diamonds on either side. "Delilah Claire McKinley, will you marry me?"

I felt the air leave my lungs, my head spinning. I managed to nod before bursting into tears. Sherlock got to his feet, pulling me tight even as I buried my face into his shoulder. He rubbed my back, pressing kiss after kiss to the top of my head.

"Why are you crying?"

"B-because I'm so happy Sherlock. Yes. Yes I'll marry you."

He smiled, slipping the ring onto my finger. "Good. Because there's no one else on this planet that I'd want to marry besides my thief. I love you."

"I love you too Sherlock. I'll always love you."