*Hello lovelies! I'm getting ready to bunker down for the snow that's coming, so I wanted to get out the next chapter in case I lose power. I hope everyone is doing well. This next chapter was a bit difficult for me to write, only because I know that the chapter after it is going to be even worse. I think there will be another couple of chapters and then I will end Stealing His Heart and begin writing the sequel. Again, I wanted to give huge props to Ariane DeVere. She has made some amazingly in-depth transcripts that I have been using to help me write this. If you're going to write a Sherlock piece that keeps close to the storyline, go and use her for your reference. As always, reviews are welcome and you can PM whenever you like. I hope everyone stays warm and safe and I hope you all enjoy this next chapter!

Chapter 14: Please God

Del, I know you're sleeping, but I need you to call me as soon as you can. –JW

Del, please wake up. We need to talk to you. Did you know Sherlock was doing drugs? I mean,

I know you've been upset with him since you two ended things, but you had to have known, right? Give John or I a ring as soon as you wake. It's important. –MW

Delilah? It's Molly. I wanted to let you know that Sherlock is doing drugs. Did you know anything about it? Keep an eye on him, for all of us. Thanks. Call one of us when you can. –MH

You knew. You knew he was doing drugs and you didn't tell any of us. I knew getting involved with you was bad for him. I'll ruin you for this, I hope you know that. –MH

Do not pay attention to any of them. It's for the case. –SH

I read through all of the text messages repeatedly in bed, hearing the crashing and banging going on downstairs. I had no doubt that either the police were searching the flat, or Mycroft's men were. I got up, going quietly to the window of my room, watching as Sherlock got out of a cab with John, John paying the cabbie as Sherlock came inside the flat.

"For God's sake!" I heard Sherlock shout and I heard him stomping up the stairs.

I'd known what he was going to do that night. I'd also known that he was on drugs. He'd told me his plans and kept me up to date about keeping in contact with Janine. She'd already spent the night twice and they'd gone on a few dates.

It made my stomach turn, but every time I was upset about it, I touched the ring around my neck next to my father's wedding band. It reminded me that I was his and that I would always be his. It was for a case and it was to help people. And at the end of the day, Sherlock Holmes still loved me.

"Anderson," I heard Sherlock growl from my bedroom. I slipped into a pair of pajama bottoms and pulled my robe over my shoulders, knowing that things were going to get very ugly very quickly.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock," I heard Anderson say. "It's for your own good."

I took the stairs quietly, standing outside of my closed door to listen to the conversation.

"Oh, that's him isn't it? You said he'd be taller." I wrinkled my nose at the sound of a woman's voice. Who in the bloody hell was that?

I opened the door a crack, spotting Sherlock sitting in his chair, looking high out of his mind with his hood up over his head. Mycroft stepped in my way, looking at Sherlock.

"Some members of your little fan club. Do be polite. They're entirely trustworthy, and even willing to search through the toxic waste dump that you are pleased to call a flat. I thought that was what you kept that woman around for, to clean up your messes? She's obviously slacking at her job." I gritted my teeth, knowing that he was talking about me. Sherlock had curled up in his chair and laid his head on one of the arms, eyes closed. "You're a celebrity these days, Sherlock. You can't afford a drug habit."

I watched as Sherlock opened his eyes, glaring at his brother. "I do not have a drug habit!"

"Hey, what happened to my chair?"

"It was blocking my view to the kitchen. That, and Delilah was going to rearrange the living room the other day but got called away by one of her student's parent's wanting an extra lesson."

"Well, it's good to be missed," John grumbled as he turned to Mycroft.

"Well, you were gone. Delilah and I saw an opportunity."

"No, you saw the kitchen."

"What have you found so far?" Mycroft asked Anderson. "Clearly nothing."

"There's nothing to find," Sherlock insisted and I could hear the impatience in his voice.

I stepped out from my place in the doorway. "What in the bloody hell is going on here? Jesus Christ, I wake up and there's a bunch of missed calls and text messages."

Everyone in the room stared at me and I placed my hands on my hips. "Well? Do any of you want to explain why you're tearing the flat apart?"

"Sherlock…well, he…" John grabbed my arm, pulling me down towards him. "I found him in a drug den looking for one of Mary's friend's son's. Sherlock was with him and…he's high. Molly tested him."

I looked at Sherlock, doing my best to feign disbelief. "Sherlock! How could you?"

"Oh good God. I am on a case."

Mycroft turned to look down the hallway where Sherlock's room was. "Your bedroom door is shut."

Sherlock sighed and I glanced over at him, trying to figure out how he wanted me to play this out. Mycroft began walking down the hallway. "You haven't been home all night. So, why would a man who has never knowingly closed the door without the direct orders of his mother bother to do so on this occasion?"

I watched as Sherlock raised his head, flipping back the hood of his jacket while Mycroft walked down the hall. He placed his hand on the doorknob and Sherlock threw himself into a sitting position. "Okay, stop! Just stop." Mycroft turned the knob. "Point made."

"Jesus, Sherlock," John said, running a hand through his hair.

Mycroft was coming back down the hall towards us. I caught Sherlock's eye and he signed out what I knew he was going to. I sighed softly, shaking my head and going to the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea. I could feel Mycroft glaring at me as he walked past.

"Have to phone our parents, of course, in Oklahoma. Won't be the first time that your substance abuse has wreaked havoc with their line-dancing."

I heard Sherlock sigh, going and walking to close the gap between him and his brother. I put the kettle on, turning to watch as Sherlock said, "This is not what you think. This is for a case."

"What case could possibly justify this?" Mycroft asked, a smile on his face.

"Magnussen." I watched as Mycroft's smile fell. "Charles Augustus Magnussen."

Mycroft drew in a breath, turning to Anderson and the woman. "That name you think you may have just heard, you were mistaken. If you ever mention hearing that name in this room, in this context, I guarantee you, on behalf of the British security services, that materials will be found on your computer hard drives resulting in your immediate incarceration. Don't reply, just look frightened and scuttle."

The two people who had been wrecking the flat left, closing the door behind him. Mycroft turned on me. "And you can go ahead and start cleaning up the mess. You don't need to hear any of this as you won't understand it."

I laughed. "Fat chance of that Mycroft. I'm staying and listening. I work for him, remember? And we have a deal, so you have nothing to threaten me with."

He sighed before turning to John. "I hope I won't have to threaten you as well."

"Well, I think we'd both find that embarrassing." Sherlock laughed, turning his head away.

Mycroft's attention jerked to Sherlock. "Magnussen is not your business."

Sherlock turned and pointed at his brother. "Oh, you mean he's yours."

"You may consider him under my protection."

"I consider you under his thumb."

Mycroft dropped his voice and I could feel the mood in the room shift. "If you go against Magnussen, then you will find yourself going against me."

"Okay, I'll let you know if I notice." Sherlock walked towards the kitchen door and I watched him, trying to judge how he was feeling. "Er, what was I going to say? Oh, yeah." Sherlock threw the door open. "Bye-bye."

Mycroft began to walk towards the door that Sherlock had opened before stopping in front of him. "Unwise, brother mine."

I saw Sherlock's mood switch over and before I or John could move, Sherlock had grabbed Mycroft's left arm, twisting it up behind his back, slamming him face-first into the wall beside the kitchen door. I tried to hide my smile as Mycroft cried out in pain.

"Brother mine, don't appall me when I'm high."

I calmly took the kettle off of the stove as John hurried to Mycroft's side. "Mycroft, don't say another word. Just go. He could snap you in two, and right now I am slightly worried that he might."

"No, go ahead. Say another word. I want to watch," I said with a smile, watching as Sherlock's grip tightened.

John shot me an angry look even as Mycroft pushed himself free of Sherlock. Sherlock turned and walked away. Mycroft turned towards him and I wanted to clap with glee, hoping that there would be a full on fight.

"Don't speak. Just leave." Mycroft lowered his right arm and John looked towards the floor. "Oh."

John picked up the umbrella and I watched as Mycroft snatched it from him, leaving quickly. John shot me another glance even as I fixed two cups of tea, one for myself and one for Sherlock. "What in the bloody hell was that about?"

"He and I have a bit of a…feud going if you will," I replied, taking a sip of the tea. "He threatened me and I didn't much appreciate it. So, if Sherlock would have broken him, I really wouldn't have tried to stop it."

"You do realize that Sherlock is high right now, yes? And that any sort of rage that comes from him will be drug induced and difficult to stop?"

"Yes. I gathered that from the half-dozen text messages on my phone this morning. Now, are you done with the questioning?"

John looked at me, mouth agape. "Are you high right now?"

I laughed. "Really John? No, I'm tired and I know I'm going to have to spend most of my day straightening the flat because of those idiots."

I exited the kitchen, finding Sherlock stretching and rubbing the back of his neck. I knew he was tired. I could see it in his face. I set the tea down on the table before going to curl up on my spot on the couch, taking a sip. John walked in behind me, looking at Sherlock questioningly.

"Er, Magnussen?"

"What time is it?" Sherlock asked.

"About eight."

Sherlock sniffed deeply before sighing. "I'm meeting him in three hours. I need a bath."

"Your tea's going to get cold," I murmured.

He grabbed the cup, taking a deep gulp before walking through the kitchen towards the hallway.

"It's for a case, you said?" John asked.

"Yep."

"What sort of case?"

"Too big and dangerous for any sane individual to get involved in." I smiled, watching as John hesitated.

"You trying to put me off?"

"God, no. Trying to recruit you like I recruited Lila." I could hear the smile in his voice from my spot on the couch. "And stay out of my bedroom!"

I rolled my eyes, knowing who was in there. I felt my temper flare up, but I kept it in check even as I glanced around the room, trying to mentally calculate how long it would take me to straighten up before we had to meet Magnussen.

"Oh, John, hi." I heard her voice from down the hall. "How are you?"

"Janine?" I could hear the shock in John's voice.

"Sorry. Not dressed." I watched as she walked into the kitchen in nothing but one of Sherlock's old shirts. I had to bite my tongue from telling her to get out. "Has everybody gone? I heard shouting."

"Yes, they're gone. Well, except for Delilah."

Janine seemed to ignore the comment. "God, look at the time. I'll be late." There was a pause. "Sounded like an argument. Was it Mike?"

"Mike?" I rolled my eyes again. Her and her stupid nicknames.

"Mike, yeah. His brother, Mike. They're always fighting."

"Mycroft."

"Do people actually call him that?!" I clenched my jaw to keep myself from saying something.

"Yeah."

"Huh! Oh, could you be a love and put some coffee on?"

John hesitated before saying, "Sure, right, yeah."

"Thanks!" She called and I could hear her walking down the hallway. "Oh, how's Mary? How's married life?"

"She's fine. We're both fine, yeah."

I heard John rummaging around in the cabinets and I sighed, putting my tea down on the table. "I moved it John. Cabinet next to the sink."

"Where's Sherl?" I nearly gagged when she used the stupid pet-name she'd given Sherlock.

"Sherl!" I heard John say under his breath. "He's just having a bath. I'm sure he'll be out in a minute."

"Oh, like he ever is!"

'Don't you do it,' I thought to myself, my fist clenching with my fury. 'Don't you dare do it. I swear to God almighty I will kill you if you do.'

I heard her walk down the hallway, knocking on a door. I was on my feet, heading towards the hallway. I heard her giggle, "Morning! Room for a little one?!"

John grabbed me by my arm and I heard Sherlock say, "Morning."

I could hear the sound of water splashing and then Janine let out a little squeal of joy. I looked at John, feeling the tears touching my eyes. I hated that woman almost as much as I hated my sister.

'It's only temporary. Keep that in mind. Only temporary. And once it's done, you can do whatever you wish. You have to trust Sherlock when he says that she means nothing.'

"Delilah?"

"Hmmm?" I looked at John as he pulled me from my thoughts.

"You're…you're crying."

"Oh. Sorry." I reached for a rag on the counter. "I suppose I was. I'm…still not used to it."

"Do you want me to speak with him when he's sober? This isn't fair to you."

I shook my head slowly. "It's his life. As it's also his life that he started using drugs again. What should I care?"

"So...you knew he was doing drugs? You knew and you didn't tell us?"

I stared at John, not knowing how much I should tell him. "Yes. I did. I found him getting high one time downstairs, asked him what he was doing. He said it was for a case and I figured that it was his business. So long as the rent gets paid, what should I care?" I could see the shock in John's eyes. "It's his life and his choice. If he thinks he can handle it, then I leave him be. Now, I'm going to go and get dressed. We have a meeting with Magnussen in three hours."

I pulled my arm out from John's grip, turning to run up the stairs to my room. I wanted to cry, to scream. I couldn't wait until this case was over with and I could personally throw her out of our flat. I'd need to talk with Sherlock. I was going to break if he kept this up, especially with her so seemingly hell bent on making me upset.

I tugged a dark green oversized jumper over my head and a pair of black yoga pants on. I needed to keep myself free to move as I'd be cleaning most of the day, except for when we went to the meeting. I grabbed the cleaning supplies from under my bed. Sherlock had been trying to hunt them down since I started organizing the flat a week ago.

To say that he was irritated that I was trying to clean the flat and put it to rights was an understatement. I was fighting an uphill battle and there were quite a few arguments over it. He'd never admit to me that it was actually easier, but I'd noticed that he was a lot less stressed when he was looking for something pertaining to the case.

I brushed my hair, which hardly took any time at all as it had only grown to mid-neck since February. I grabbed two bobby pins from my small dresser, pinning the pieces on the side back and out of my face. That was the most irritating thing about my hair growing back out. It was everywhere.

Going down the stairs, cleaning supplies clutched tight in one hand, I found John sitting on the edge of the coffee table. "You know, I have your chair in storage downstairs. I could go and get it if you'd like."

John waved his hand at me. "You're fine. I understand. So...rearranging?"

I nodded. "Cleaning too. Sherlock has been fighting me on it tooth and nail. He'll never admit that it makes his life easier, but I know it does. My asthma couldn't handle how dusty it was."

"Yeah. Sherlock's not much of a duster."

"Try a clean and organized person in general," I said with a chuckle. "Do you need some tea or anything?"

"No. I'm fine. Say, where did you get that ring around your neck? I've never seen it before." He looked at me suspiciously. "You didn't steal it did you?"

I laughed. "John, first you ask if I'm doing drugs and then you ask if I've gone back to stealing. No. I'm not doing either of those things. I gave that up once I had a safe place to stay and a steady job. It was from my mother. It was her engagement ring from my father and she wanted me to have it."

He nodded, but I could tell that he didn't quite believe me. "Why'd she give it to you now?"

"Because we made up," I answered, cleaning the shelves of the bookcase with furniture polish before I put the books back on. "She wanted me to have it. She was going to give it to Olivia, but…"

"I understand. Sorry."

"No, it's fine. I understand that everything is really confusing right now. I mean, Sherlock has Janine when you and Mary thought that we were together, he's on drugs again, and I'm cleaning the flat. It must be strange to see how much things can change."

I heard the bathroom door open and watched as Sherlock walked out in his black trousers and white shirt. He was walking down the hallway and judging by his relaxed nature, he and Janine had had a wonderful bath. I felt the vomit rise up in my throat at the thought of him being with her. He was grabbing his jacket, putting it on. I could feel his eyes on me as I cleaned the bookcase.

"So. It's just a guess, but you've probably got some questions."

'Yes, I do. Like why in the hell are you still sleeping with that bitch?'

"Yeah, one or two, pretty much."

"Naturally." I heard him turn to no doubt look at Janine, who I'd seen out of the corner of my eye going to the bedroom. I continued to clean, knowing that I needed to keep something in my hands or else I was going to choke the life out of her.

"You have a girlfriend? Well, a new girlfriend?"

I heard Sherlock sit in his chair. "Yes, I have." I began to scrub the shelf a little bit harder, gritting my teeth. "Now, Magnussen. Magnussen is like a shark. It's the only way I can describe him. Have you ever been to the shark tank at the London Aquarium, John? Stood up close to the glass? Those floating flat faces, those dead eyes...that's what he is. I've dealt with murderers, psychopaths, terrorists, serial killers. None of them can turn my stomach like Charles Augustus Magnussen."

I'd turned to look at Sherlock, seeing the determination in his eye. I touched the ring around my neck, knowing that once this was all over, I could wear it freely and we could begin planning our wedding. I smiled to myself.

"Yes, you have," I heard John mutter and I looked at him curiously.

"Sorry, what?" Sherlock said irritatedly.

"You have a new girlfriend." I winced at his words.

"What? Yes! Yes, I'm going out with Janine." I fought back the urge to gag. "I thought that was fairly obvious."

"Yes. Well...yes. I only thought that...well, you and Delilah-"

"I am still in the room you know," I said through gritted teeth, setting down the furniture polish. "Sorry, should I leave?"

"No," they both said simultaneously and I sighed, going to curl up on my spot on the couch.

"Fine. Continue the conversation. Pretend like I'm not here. I'm going to be studying."

I grabbed my book on nursing from the coffee table, flipping to the page I had been on. The two men stared at me before John turned back to Sherlock. "I mean, you, you, you...are in a relationship?"

I glanced up at Sherlock who blinked. "Yes, I am."

"You and Janine?"

"Oh for Christ's sake," I muttered under my breath.

"Mmm, yes. Me and Janine."

"Care to elaborate?"

'No he does not,' I thought to myself, flipping through pages, not really reading anything. 'And I swear to God if he does I am going to leave.'

"Well, we're in a good place. It's, um…" He paused and I knew he was searching for words that wouldn't make me angry with him. "Very affirming."

I snickered. Very affirming? What in the hell was that supposed to mean?

"You got that from a book," John said, trying to hide his laughter.

"Everyone got that from a book," Sherlock retorted.

I could hear Janine coming down the hall and I glanced up over the edge of my book to watch her come into the room. "Okay, you two bad boys, behave yourselves. Oh, and Delilah, there's a bit of a mess in the bathroom that you may want to clean up."

I sighed. "You couldn't clean it up?"

"Unfortunately I'm running late for work," she replied, sitting on the arm of Sherlock's chair. I watched with disgust as he put his arm around her and she leaned close to his face. "And you, Sherl, you're going to have to tell me where you were last night."

"Working."

"Working. Of course. I'm the only one who really knows what you're like, remember?" That was all I could take. I snapped my book closed, getting to my feet and storming off to the kitchen.

I slammed my fist into the fridge, picturing Janine's face even as I connected with the metal. I was trembling all over, trying to gain control of myself, focusing on my breathing. That bitch. I touched the ring around my neck even as I fought the tears. I heard the door to the flat close.

"Delilah? Could you come back in here please?" I heard Sherlock call from the living room. "We need to discuss the case."

"Right, the case. I'll be in there in a second!" I looked down at my hand, wincing at the already swelling flesh. I grabbed a bag of frozen peas from the freezer before going into the living room, not even acknowledging Sherlock standing by the door.

"What did you do to your hand?" John asked, frowning.

"Nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Let me see."

"It's fine, John. Leave it alone. Now. Magnussen."

"Yes, Magnussen. You know Magnussen as a newspaper owner, but he's so much more than that." I saw the frown form on John's face even as I leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, nursing my hand. "He uses his power and wealth to gain information. The more he acquires, the greater his wealth and power." Sherlock passed by me, going to sit at the dining table, opening his laptop. "I'm not exaggerating when I say that he knows the critical pressure point on every person of note or influence in the whole of the Western world and probably beyond. He is the Napoleon of blackmail," I watched as he pulled up the blueprint to Magnussen's home, "and he has created an unassailable architecture of forbidden knowledge. Its name is Appledore."

"Dinner." I shook my head, trying to get over the randomness of the statement from John even as I went to look over the blueprints to the building.

"Sorry, what dinner?"

"Me and Mary, coming for dinner...with...wine and...sitting." I shook my head, going to sit at the table across from Sherlock, examining the blue print once again.

"Seriously? I've just told you that the Western world is run from this house and you want to talk about dinner?"

"Fine, talk about the house."

I had to fight a laugh as Sherlock shot John a look of thinly veiled disgust before he turned back to the laptop. "It is the greatest repository of sensitive and dangerous information anywhere in the world. The Alexandrian Library of secrets and scandals. And none of it is on a computer. He's smart, computers can be hacked. It's all on hard copy in vaults underneath that house." I looked to where Sherlock was pointing on the screen, brow furrowing. "And as long as it is, the personal freedom of anyone you've ever met is a fantasy."

I heard the knock on the door even as I stared at the blueprints. Mrs. Hudson walked into the kitchen. "Oh, that was the doorbell. Couldn't you hear it?"

"It's in the fridge. It kept ringing." I sighed, getting up from my seat to open the fridge. Sure enough, there was the doorbell.

"Oh, that's not a fault, Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson said and I could tell that she was trying to admonish him to no avail.

"I'll put it back on later Mrs. Hudson," I said softly. "I'm sorry about that."

"It's no trouble dear. You're not the one who did it."

"Who is it?" John asked and I heard Mrs. Hudson draw in an anxious breath.

"I don't know. I'll go and let them in."

"Do you want me to come with you?" I asked her, frowning at how much she seemed to be frightened.

"I'll be fine dear." Mrs. Hudson left the room, going down the stairs.

John crossed to me, taking the peas off of my hand. He winced. "You've broken your hand."

"Sprained it."

"Judging from the swelling, you've broken it," he said firmly. "I'll need to set it when we figure out who it is at the door."

"Mr. Holmes said you can go right up," I heard Mrs. Hudson squeak.

I stepped into the living room, watching as three men in dark suits walked in. I frowned at how frightened Mrs. Hudson seemed, pressed against the wall. I watched as a fourth man walked up the stairs, glancing at Mrs. Hudson. I recognized him immediately and crossed my arms in front of my chest.

Sherlock went to stand next to the fireplace with John even as the three men, who I now recognized as security judging by their ear pieces, stood in front of them. Sherlock sighed, unfolding his arms. "Oh, go ahead."

Sherlock spread his arms, allowing one of the men to frisk him. Another walked up to John and the third approached me. I bit my tongue before spreading my arms, feeling the man's hands frisking me.

"Sir?" The security guard in front of John asked.

John glanced at Sherlock before looking back at the man. "Can I have a moment?"

"Oi! Watch where you put your hands!" I growled even as the man frisking me grabbed my ass. "I am a lady and I expect to be treated as one."

Sherlock glanced up at me as they finished with him. He turned to the man in front of John. "Oh, he's fine."

The man glanced at Sherlock before kneeling down in front of John. "Er, I...right. I should probably tell you…" I watched as they produced a knife from John's jacket pocket. "Okay, I...That. And…" I winced as the man produced a tire lever from John's jeans.

The man searching me groped my inner thigh and I reacted immediately, driving my knee into his face, grabbing his arm, and flipping him face down onto the floor. I drove my knee into the small of his back, ignoring his cry of pain. I looked up to see two guns pointing directly at me. I raised my hands, seeing the alarmed looks on John and Sherlock's face.

"I can vouch for these two people," Sherlock said quickly, trying to defuse the situation. "He's a doctor and she is my flatmate, who also happens to be a rape victim and a third degree black belt in taekwondo. If you know who I am, then you know who they are." Sherlock turned to look at the man in the doorway. "Don't you Mr. Magnussen?"

"Put your guns away. And you. Let him up." I got to my feet, going to stand between John and Sherlock, fighting the shakes even as two of the security guards stood next to us, the third that I had attacked going to the kitchen, no doubt to clean himself up.

"I understood we were meeting at your office," Sherlock said

"This is my office," Magnussen said, walking slowly towards the sofa before stopping and turning to look at John. There was a pause before he said, "Well, it is now."

He sat down on the couch, picking up my book from the table. I glanced over at Sherlock, feeling nervous. This man acted as though he owned the place. I already couldn't stand him. "Mr. Magnussen, I have been asked to intercede with you by Lady Elizabeth Smallwood on the matter of her husband's letters." I could tell that Magnussen was ignoring him, seemingly trying to get comfortable on the sofa. "Some time ago you...put pressure on her concerning those letters." Magnussen glanced up at him, leaning back on the sofa. "She would like those letters back."

I watched as he stared at Sherlock for an abnormal amount of time. Sherlock began to speak again. "Obviously, the letters no longer have any practical use to you, so with that in mind…" he paused and I could tell that he'd finally caught on that Magnussen wasn't paying attention. Magnussen snorted. "Something I said?"

"No, no. I was reading." He adjusted his glasses. "There's rather a lot. Redbeard." I looked at Sherlock, watching as he blinked, mouth opening slightly in shock. "Sorry. S-sorry. You were probably talking?"

"I...I was trying to explain that I've been asked to act on behalf of-"

"Bathroom?" Magnussen interrupted, asking the security guard beside John and I.

"Along from the kitchen, sir."

"Okay."

"I've been asked to negotiate the return of those letters." I glared at Magnussen as he continued to ignore Sherlock, looking towards the window. "I'm aware that you do not make copies of sensitive documents-"

"Is it like the rest of the flat?"

"What in the hell is that supposed to mean?" I growled, watching as Magnussen and his men turned to look at me.

"Sir?"

"The bathroom?" Magnussen's eyes never left my face even as I glared at him.

"Er, yes, sir."

"Maybe not then."

I could hear the impatience in Sherlock's voice. "Am I acceptable to you as an intermediary?"

Magnussen looked at Sherlock for a moment before looking out the window again. "Lady Elizabeth Smallwood. I like her."

I gritted my teeth as he popped his lips a couple of times. All of the rage that had been building inside of me was getting ready to bubble over. I bit the inside of my cheek. Sherlock again asked, "Mr. Magnussen, am I acceptable to you as an intermediary?"

"She's English, with a spine." I watched as the security guard next to Sherlock stepped towards the fireplace, taking the fire guard away from the front of the unlit fire. "Best thing about the English, you're so domesticated. All standing around, apologizing, keeping your little heads down." I watched as he stood in front of the fireplace, unzipping his trousers. "You can do what you like here. No one's ever going to stop you." I heard the sound of him urinating and I opened my mouth to say something, but Sherlock grabbed my hand.

"A nation of herbivores. I've interests all over the world, but, er, everything starts in England. If it works here I'll try it in a real country." He took a wet wipe from the guard standing next to John. "The United Kingdom, huh? Petri dish to the Western world." He looked at Sherlock briefly. "Tell Lady Elizabeth that I might need those letters, so I'm keeping them. Goodbye." He dropped the wet wipe to the floor, turning to leave before he put his hand into his jacket's inside pocket. "Anyway, they're funny."

"You son of a bitch," I growled, stepping away from Sherlock, feeling the hands of the security guards on me. "How dare you come into our home and do this. What in God's name are those letters going to do for you? Do you get your jollies by tormenting people? Making them suffer? What kind of monster are you?"

He blinked at me, adjusting his glasses. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"What does it matter? I'm sure you've got a file on me somewhere. Let go of me!" I snarled, jerking away to stand in front of Magnussen. "Unlike everyone else in this room, I don't tolerate when some privileged prick walks into my home and makes a mess." I reached down, grabbing the wet wipe from the floor. "Now, you take your trash and get out of here. And don't come back. I don't care who you bring with you, next time I'll boot you out myself."

I dropped the wet wipe onto his shoe, watching as he looked down at it. He looked up at me, smiling. "Who are you?"

"None of your goddamn business. Now get. Out."

He kicked the wet wipe off, turning on his heel and leaving. The three security guards left, shooting me dirty looks as they went. I listened to them clatter down the stairs before leaving. I slammed the door closed before letting out a shaky breath.

"Jesus!" John exclaimed furiously and I looked at him, picking the wet wipe off of the floor to throw it away with my good hand, keeping my left tucked close to my body. "You lost your temper with him a bit, didn't you?"

"I'm sorry, but were you the one getting groped by them? No, I didn't think so." I tossed the wet wipe into the trash with disgust, going to sit on the couch, trying to keep as far away from the section he'd sat in as possible. "Of course I'm going to lose my temper. I'm tired of keeping quiet about everything."

"Did you notice the one extraordinary thing he did?" Sherlock murmured and I looked at him, rolling my eyes as he changed the topic.

"Wh...there was a moment that kind of stuck in the mind, yeah," John replied, gesturing towards the fireplace.

"Exactly. When he showed us the letters."

Sherlock walked across the room, smiling. I shook my head in disbelief.

"...okay," was all that John said and I could see the frown on his face.

"He brought the letters to London, so no matter what he says, he's ready to make a deal. Now, Magnussen only makes a deal once he has established a person's weaknesses, the pressure point he calls it." Sherlock picked up his coat from a dining chair, putting it on. "So, clearly he believes I'm a drug addict and no serious threat. And, of course, because he's in town tonight, the letters will be in his safe in his London office while he's out to dinner with the Marketing Group of Great Britain from seven 'til ten."

"How...how do you know his schedule?"

"Because I do. Right. I'll see you both tonight. I've got some shopping to do."

"I'm not going," I called and I heard him stop, coming back up the stairs.

"What do you mean you're not coming?"

"I mean, I'm not coming. My hand hurts and, quite frankly Sherlock, between Janine being here and then Magnussen, I don't want to be around you anymore. I don't want to be on this case. You and John have fun. I'm going to clean up, maybe see if Mary's doing anything today." I could tell that he was hurt by my words, but I was hurt by his actions. "Sorry."

With that, I brushed past him, heading up the stairs to my room, slamming the door. I could feel the tears threatening to come, but I closed my eyes, taking a few deep breaths. I would not cry over Sherlock. I wouldn't. I knew this was for a case, but I couldn't get the image of Janine in his shirt out of my mind. I couldn't get the feeling of the security guard's hands off of my skin as he groped me over and over again.

I opened my phone, searching for Mary's number. I hit the send button.

"Mary? Would you like to meet for lunch somewhere in an hour?"

"Del! Oh, it's so good to see you. I've missed you!" She gave me a hug and I returned it, forcing a smile. "I'm so glad you called me. I'm sorry for sending those text messages so early. It was absolutely insane."

I sat down at the table, watching as Mary sat across from me. "So. How is your pregnancy? How is married life?"

"Both wonderful," she replied, giving me a smile. "I'm so excited for the little one. I still can't believe it. A little baby for John and I. It's so wonderful. How've you been? How are things between you and Sherlock?"

"They're non-existent. He's my flatmate, nothing more. Ever since he started bringing Janine over-"

"Janine?!" Mary covered her mouth with her hand. "Now that's a couple I didn't expect."

"Yes. Neither did I." I frowned, feeling the tears once more stinging my eyes. "But, that's his choice, not mine." There was an awkward silence. "I'm sorry. I just...I needed to get out of the flat and I wanted someone to talk to. And you were the first person to pop into my head."

"Hey. It's alright. That's what best friends are for."

I laughed softly. "I keep forgetting that you say we're best friends."

"Well, aren't we?" Mary asked, sitting back in the chair. "I mean, you and I talk all the time, we hang out outside of work. I enjoy your company and I can comfortably tell you anything. I would say that that's the definition of best friends."

I gave her a smile. "True. Very true."

"Can I get you ladies anything?" The waitress asked and I gave her a smile.

"Yes please. I'll have a cappuccino and a blackberry scone." I looked at Mary. "What would you like?"

"Oh. Lemon water and a blackberry scone as well."

The waitress nodded, jotting down our orders before disappearing once more. Mary leaned forward. "So, are they...together together?"

I sighed. "Yes. They are. Or I would assume so since they shared a bath together while John was over."

Mary's eyes widened. "Are you- no!"

"Yes. It was all I could do to keep myself from punching her in the face."

"I bet." Mary pulled out her phone, furiously typing a message. "Those two are going to get a piece of my mind."

"No. Don't. It's fine. Really. I'm...used to it. I don't think it will last long anyway."

"How long have they been seeing each other?"

"Oh, I don't know. About two weeks? Or at least that's how long its been since she started spending the night." I winced as I hit my hand against the table.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing, it's-"

She grabbed my hand, inspecting it. "Oh no. You poor thing. You must be in such pain."

"Well, it's my fault. I'm fine. I lost my temper. Between Janine and Magnussen-"

"Magnussen?" I watched as her face paled. "Charles Magnussen?"

"Yes? Do you know him?" I asked curiously even as the waitress set the scones and drinks down on the table.

"I've heard of him," she replied, taking a sip of her water. "So, is that who Sherlock's investigating? But why?"

I shrugged. "Blackmail apparently. I know he's staying in town for some sort of meeting. He showed up at the flat today. I...might have lost my temper."

"Why's that?"

"Well, the man's impossible. I mean, he pissed in our fireplace!" I took a bite of the scone. "Threw things on the floor. The boys were doing nothing, so I had to be the one to put him in his proper place. He won't walk into my flat and be rude. No. That's not happening. And one of his security team got a bit too touchy for me."

"I'm so sorry." Mary took my hand uninjured hand. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. I'm fine. I put him in his place too."

We chatted for a bit longer and Mary offered to come over and help me straighten the flat as well as bind my hand. I accepted and we took the cab back. As we sat in the back, I looked at her. "You know, its been a long time since I had a best friend. The only best friend I ever had was my sister."

Mary gave me a smile. "Well, I'm glad you're able to have me then."

"Mary...I wanted to say thank you. You've become like a sister to me. The older sister I never had if you will. If it weren't for you, John, and Sherlock...well, who knows where I'd be. You're such a wonderful person and that baby is going to have a wonderful mother."

Mary dabbed at her eyes even as the cab slowed down outside of the flat. "Thank you, Del. That's perhaps the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. I'm honored."

We went upstairs, cleaning the flat, Mary binding my hand quickly with some of the sticky bandaging we'd used when I'd had my debridement. Around five thirty, Mary left and I was alone. I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and I opened it, sitting down on the couch.

Lila. We could use your help and skills. -SH

For what? You and John are perfectly capable of doing whatever it is you're doing. I've been cleaning all day and I'm tired. I want to go to bed. We need to talk in the morning about things. I...I can't do this anymore Sherlock. -DM

What do you mean? What are you talking about? -SH

Sherlock. If I have to see that woman one more time in our flat and in your bed, prancing around like she owns the place, I'm going to kill her. And I mean it. I thought I could do this, I really did, but it hurts like hell and you don't even seem to care. -DM

I...I'm sorry. The whole Janine aspect of the case will be done by tomorrow. Put your ring on and wear it. I gave it to you for a reason, so that you would remember my love for you. You do remember that, don't you? -SH

I hesitated. Did I know that? Having Janine around had clouded my mind and my emotions. Did I really love Sherlock or had it been a fling? I touched the ring around my neck.

'He's a good man,' my mother's voice whispered in my ear. 'You know he is.'

'Listen to your mother,' my father chimed in. 'She's good at judging people. He loves you. He does. You have to trust that.'

I do Sherlock. I do. Promise me when this whole mess is done with we'll tell Mary and John and start planning our own wedding? -DM

I make no promises. But yes, we'll tell Mary and John. We can even do it tomorrow if you'd like. I love you. -SH

I was in the middle of typing my reply when another message came through. Now will you come and help us? -SH

No, Sherlock. I really am tired. I'm going to eat something and then I'm going to go and sleep in OUR bed. I washed the sheets and blankets to get rid of her smell. -DM

You're ridiculous. I will see you when I'm done. -SH

Sherlock? -DM

Yes? -SH

I love you too. I'll see you later tonight darling. I can't wait until I'm in your arms again. -DM

Me either. -SH

I smiled, re-reading the text messages. It made me so happy when he told me that he loved me. Especially now when I was doubting his feeling. I took the necklace off, removing the engagement ring, sliding it onto my finger. I looked at it, smiling. He'd done very well in picking it out, had even managed to deduce my ring size. I put the necklace back on before going and looking for something to eat, my mind wandering to Sherlock and how he and John were doing.

They would be alright though. They'd been doing this long enough.

"'Lo?"

"Delilah? Delilah, it's John."

I sat up in the bed, hearing the urgency in his tone. "John, what's going on? What's wrong?"

"Delilah...it…" I heard his voice breaking. "There has been a shooting."

I was already getting out of bed, slipping into my shoes. I grabbed my gun, going down the hall. "A shooting? A shooting where? Are you alright? Where are you?"

"Saint Bart's. Delilah, Sherlock, he...he was shot. They don't think he's going to make it."

I froze halfway down the stairs, the breath catching in my throat. "What do you mean they don't think he's going to make it?"

"He was shot in the torso. I found him bleeding out in Magnussen's room. We were trying to get those documents. He...he…"

"I will be there in ten minutes."

The tears were streaming down my face as I began running in the direction of St. Bart's.

'Please God. Please don't do this. Please don't take him from me too. I love him. Please let him be okay. Sherlock. I love you. Please be okay.'