Stealing His Heart

by M.E. Johnson-McNeil

I'd spent way too much time on the streets to get dragged into this mess. But here I was, sitting in front of the world's greatest consulting detective, with some of the most terrifying information stored on a flash drive. Now, I would have to team up with the right side of the law for the first time. Hopefully some good would come of it. *M for smut, violence, and language*

18. Chapter 18: Did You Miss Me?

*Well, this is it lovelies. This is the end of Stealing His Heart. I will begin Freeing Her Soul in a few days. I need to plot out a couple of things before I actually begin writing and publishing on here. It shouldn't be more than a couple of days though. As always, I want to give credit to Ariane DeVere for her amazing transcripts. They've helped me so much writing this. There are a couple of things in this chapter that may be triggering (sexual assault) and there's also a bit of smut at the end. I will say, there are so many things still left to cover and I can't wait to write them all. I hope everyone has enjoyed this story and I wanted to thank you all for sticking with me to the very end. I hope you enjoy this last chapter and please let me know what you think. Reviews are welcome as always.*

---

Chapter 18: Did You Miss Me?

I sat next to Sherlock on the floor, watching everyone in the room. It was the first time I'd met Sherlock's parents and needless to say, they'd been more than a bit shocked when I was introduced to them as his fiancé at Christmas. Mary and John had come with us and it had been a very awkward and quiet ride. I hadn't spoken to Mary since I'd threatened to shoot her in the flat. Apparently, neither had John judging by the frigid silence. Bill had also come with us and I'd actually grown close to him during his visits to the flat. He and I had shared war stories from our days on the streets.

I'd become even more nervous when I realized that Mycroft was there. He and I had tolerated each other for the most part, but seeing each other at a family gathering for the first time was a whole new scenario. Sherlock's mother and father had been very kind after they'd gotten over the initial shock and I'd helped Sherlock's mother prep for Christmas dinner. She'd finally urged me to go and spend time with Sherlock and I'd settled in beside his chair, holding his hand.

"Oh, dear God, it's only two o'clock." I giggled as I took a sip of water. "Its been Christmas Day for at least a week now."

"Oh Mycroft, it's not that bad. I mean, think about it, we're getting to know each other on a more intimate level." He shot me a glare and my smile widened. "Come on, don't you want to get to know your future sister-in-law?"

Sherlock squeezed my hand, giving me a small smile as he shook his head. I knew he was enjoying my teasing his brother, but there was also a time and place. I rolled my eyes but refrained from picking on Mycroft, taking another sip of my water instead.

"How can it only be two o'clock? I'm in agony."

Sherlock grabbed the paper beside him and I could only chuckle, resting my head against his leg, reading the headlines upside down as I looked up at him. He leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. I smiled, getting to my feet to go and join Mrs. Holmes and Mycroft in the kitchen.

"Mikey, is this your laptop?" I heard Mrs. Holmes ask and I couldn't help but laugh at the nickname.

"Mikey? And here I thought that was only a Janine nickname. I'll have to start calling you that myself."

"No you will not. And on which depends the security of the free world, yes. And you've got potatoes on it."

"Well, you shouldn't leave it lying around if it's so important," Mrs. Holmes admonished.

"Why are we doing this? We never do this."

I held back another laugh as Mrs. Holmes leaned on the table, a look of exasperation on her face. "We are here because Sherlock is home from hospital and we are all very happy."

"Am I happy too? I haven't checked."

I rolled my eyes and Mrs. Holmes said warningly, "Behave, Mike."

"Mycroft is the name you gave me, if you could possibly struggle all the way to the end."

"Mycroft, be nice. Nicknames aren't so bad." I watched as Bill walked in with a glass of punch in his hand.

"Mrs. Holmes?"

"Oh! Thank you, dear. Not absolutely sure why you're here."

"I invited him," Sherlock piped up.

"I'm his protégé, Mrs. 'olmes," Bill said proudly, puffing out his chest. "When 'e dies, I get all his stuff, an' 'is job."

"No," Sherlock replied, still reading the paper. "If I die, everything goes to Lila as she'd be my wife. Unless by some unfortunate circumstance she died as well."

"Oh. Well, I help out a bit."

"Closer."

We were all staring at Bill when he said, "If 'e does get murdered or something…"

Mycroft and Mrs. Holmes both looked horrified, whereas I glared at Bill, crossing my arms across my chest.

"Probably stop talking now," Sherlock said, not looking up from the newspaper.

"Okay," Bill answered, going to shuffle off somewhere.

I looked down at the punch glass he'd left for me and I went to take a sip when I caught Sherlock signing from the corner of my eye. I set it down again, instead grabbing for my water, taking a sip of that.

"Lovely when you bring your friends round!" Mycroft spat at Sherlock and I sighed.

"Stop it you," Mrs. Holmes snapped, setting her glass down. "Somebody's put a bullet in my boy and if I ever find out who, I shall turn absolutely monstrous." I shook my head, taking another sip but keeping my mouth shut. No need to start a fight on Christmas. "Ah. This was for Mary. I'll be back in a minute."

As she left I went to sit on Sherlock's lap. He wrapped his arms around my waist and I pressed a kiss to his cheek, whispering, "Why did you sign the word don't?"

"You'll see in roughly seven minutes. I need you to help me with something."

"Magnussen?" I murmured, making it look as if I were pressing kisses to his neck so that Mycroft wouldn't become suspicious.

"Mhmm."

"Okay luv." I pressed a kiss to his lips before turning to Mycroft. "Are you still brooding over there?"

"And what if I am?"

"Well, it seems like a waste of energy. It's a holiday Mycroft, stop being so doom and gloom."

Mycroft sneered at me. "You would know about doom and gloom, wouldn't you?"

I frowned. "Now what's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh nothing. Only that you seem to carry around a little black cloud of bad luck wherever you go."

"Now now, what's going on in here?" Mrs. Holmes asked, hands on her hips. "Mike, are you being rude to Delilah?"

"No Mrs. Holmes, everything is fine. I wanted to say again, how sorry I am that I came as a surprise. Sherlock and I were going to tell you sooner, but when we planned on doing it, well, he ended up in the hospital." I gave her what I hoped was a winning smile. "I suppose that Mycroft is still getting used to the idea of having a younger sister in the mix as well."

I got off of Sherlock's lap, going to stand at the counter with Mrs. Holmes. I watched as Sherlock got up, going to take his coat off one of the pegs. Mr. Holmes walked into the room, looking a bit shaken up.

"Those two. They all right?"

Sherlock put on his coat. "Well, you know. They've had their ups and downs, as most couples do."

I frowned, glancing at the door, wondering if I should go in and check on them. I decided against it, knowing that if they were in there and talking, then perhaps things would work out. I'd need to do that with Mary as well. I'd forgiven her for the most part, now that I understood why she was doing it. Magnussen was a horrible human being and if he could get his hands on something that hurt me horribly, who knew what he had against Mary.

I watched as Sherlock and Mycroft left the room, going out into the garden. I looked between my future in-laws, feeling slightly awkward. "So...erm, I'm sure you both have a few questions for me, yes?"

"Well, I know I do," Mrs. Holmes said, giving me a smile. "How did you two meet? How long have you been seeing each other? Have you been engaged long?"

I returned her smile. "I take it that Sherlock has never...brought a girl home?"

"No, never. Hasn't even mentioned anyone to us. Then again, Sherlock has always been a private individual, so even if there were girls, I doubt he would have told us," Mr. Holmes replied, taking a sip of punch.

"Yes, well, I met Sherlock last December. I was having an asthma attack and he and John saved my life. When they found out that I was homeless and had people after me, they took me in and helped me solve the case. We started dating around May and he proposed a week or so after Mary and John's wedding. So...nearly six months by my math." I could feel the sweat popping out on my brow and Mrs. Holmes looked out the window.

"Oh, those two!" She opened the cottage door, stepping outside. "Are you two smoking?"

Mr. Holmes leaned in to me to whisper confidentially, "She knows that they smoke and she hates it. But I suppose if they have to have vices, I'd rather it be cigarettes than anything else."

I giggled. "You're quite right. It's better than alcohol or worse."

We both laughed and I watched as his eyes became glossed over. "I think...I think I should lie down in the sitting room."

I nodded. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Yes, quite. You see, when you get to be my age, you get tired out easily. It's why it's always helpful to have a doting wife around." He gave Mrs. Holmes a grin and a wink as she walked back inside. "Been in love with that woman since the day I met her."

"I can only hope that Sherlock and I are so lucky."

"You will be. Sherlock likes to think that he's good at hiding things, but when he looks at you, I can see how much he loves you." I helped Mr. Holmes down onto the couch. "When he looks at you, it's the same way I look at my wife. You two are good together."

I smiled. "Thank you Mr. Holmes. It means a lot to hear you say that. I was worried about how you all would take the news."

"Promise me one thing?" He murmured and I watched as his eyes began to go unfocused.

"Aye, what's that?"

"Promise me that you'll protect him and keep him out of trouble?"

"I promise." His eyes closed and I grew worried. "Mr. Holmes? Mr. Holmes?"

I turned as I heard two grunts behind me, watching as Bill caught Mrs. Holmes and Sherlock caught his brother. Sherlock set Mycroft down at the kitchen table and Bill set Mrs. Holmes down in the chair where Sherlock had been sitting. I got to my feet, crossing to Sherlock.

"What have you done?"

"You'll see. John should be panicking in three...two…"

"Mary, can you hear me?"

Sherlock opened the door, walking into the room. "Don't drink Mary's tea." He walked back out, grabbing his scarf from the peg. "Oh, or the punch."

"Sherlock?" I heard John ask and I could hear the rage in his voice as Sherlock began to check the breathing of every unconscious person in the room. "Did you just drug my pregnant wife?"

I took a deep breath, knowing that there was more than likely an argument coming, especially if John and Mary had made up.

"Don't worry," Sherlock reassured John as he checked Mycroft's breathing. "Wiggins is an excellent chemist."

"I calculated your wife's dose meself. Won't affect the little one. I'll keep an eye on 'er." Bill turned to me. "Sorry about nearly dosin' you Del."

"It's fine. Sherlock warned me before I took a sip."

"He'll monitor their recovery. It's more or less his day job," Sherlock replied, putting his scarf on.

"What the hell have you done?" John demanded, staring at Sherlock.

Sherlock hesitated, looking down before replying. "A deal with the devil."

I shook my head slowly. "Sherlock...it's not worth it. Why? Why would you? When did you?"

"Oh, Jesus," John said softly before walking away, going into the other room.

I continued to stare at Sherlock. "Why Sherlock?"

"Because I want him brought down."

"There's more to it than that," I replied, crossing to him, forcing him to look me in the eye. "Sherlock, why would you do something like this?"

"Because...I don't want to see you or anyone else hurt anymore."

I frowned. "It's not worth it."

"It is to me."

"I thought you were compartmentalizing your feelings?"

"I was until I saw that it hurt you, what he sent. How it has caused you night terrors and sleepless nights. How you barely eat anymore, barely laugh or smile." He pressed a kiss to my forehead. "I love you. You don't have to come if you don't want to Lila. I'm sure Bill could use the help."

"Oh no Sherlock. You're not getting rid of me that easily."

"Sherlock...please tell me you haven't just gone out of your mind," I heard John say through gritted teeth from the sitting room.

Sherlock bent down, taking Mycroft's laptop from underneath his hand. I fought back a groan as I knew what Sherlock intended to do with it. He had gone out of his mind.

"I'd rather keep you guessing." My eyes widened as I heard the sound of an approaching helicopter overhead. "Ah. There's our lift."

John walked across the room, looking through the window. "Did you know he was going to do this Del?"

"I'm a good actor John, but even this I wouldn't be able to fake my way through," I answered, stepping next to him. "Mary will be fine. We have to trust him on that."

"Where do you think we're going?" John questioned, still staring out the window at the helicopter that was attempting a landing.

"I have a few ideas and none of them are good. Best to let him explain it rather than listen to my attempts at guessing."

John sighed. "You realize that when you marry him, your whole life will be like this, correct?"

"I do. And I look forward to it."

We left the cottage, Sherlock following behind us with the laptop tucked under his arm, John's coat in his right hand. "You both coming?"

"Where?" John asked.

"Do you want your wife to be safe? Because I know I want Lila to be."

"Yeah, of course I do," John replied.

We all turned to look at the helicopter and I felt myself begin to shake. I touched the gun in its holster.

"Good because this is going to be incredibly dangerous." Sherlock took a deep breath before saying, "One false move and we'll have betrayed the security of the United Kingdom and be in prison for high treason. Magnussen is quite simply the most dangerous man we've ever encountered and the odds are comprehensively stacked against us."

I took Sherlock's hand under the coat and he gave it a light squeeze as he finished speaking. "Whatever happens is what needs to happen. I'm by you every step of the way."

"But it's Christmas," John said exasperatedly.

Sherlock smiled. "I feel the same." He glanced over at John and his smile faded. "Oh, you mean it's actually Christmas. Did you bring your gun as I suggested?"

"Why would I bring my gun to your parents' house for Christmas dinner?!" John nearly shouted.

"Is it in your coat?"

John took the coat from him before begrudgingly replying, "Yes."

Sherlock turned to look at me. "Do you have your gun?"

"Aye. Never leave the house without it."

He grabbed me by my arms, turning me to look at him. "You can still back out you know. John and I can do this alone."

I shook my head, standing on tiptoe to give him a kiss. "I did that once and nearly lost you. I'm not doing that again."

He smiled. "Off we go then."

"Where are we going?" John asked as we began to walk towards the helicopter.

"Appledore."

I felt my stomach tie itself into knots before muttering, "Into the belly of the beast we go then. Let's not keep him waiting."

---

I looked down at the home. It was disgusting looking. All glass and metal, nothing natural about it except for the grass. It was soulless, exactly like its owner. I shook my head, closing my eyes before we prepared to land. I was looking over the floor plans in my head. Something hadn't been sitting right since I'd started studying them. Something was wrong, out of place, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I rotated the 3-D projection hovering over the table in my library.

"What is it? What is wrong with this picture?" I murmured before Sherlock shook my arm.

'We're landing now,' he mouthed to me and I nodded, my heart kicking up a few extra beats a minute. We landed easily, security men approaching us from the patio. I rolled my eyes, hoping and praying that there wouldn't be another pat down like the last time. I knew that here, Magnussen was in control and I doubted that he would hesitate to have us kill if we acted up.

Luckily, we weren't searched and we followed one man into the house. He led us through what looked to be an atrium filled with large exotic plants. I kept close to Sherlock, not wanting to fall behind. I stepped into the elevator, grabbing Sherlock's hand as I felt claustrophobic in the small space. He let go as soon as the doors opened and we were led to stand in front of Magnussen, who had a glass of whiskey in his hand. Sherlock and I stopped a couple of paces in front of the sofa and John stood behind us. Magnussen nodded to his men and they left.

"I would offer you two a drink, but it's very rare and expensive. I will offer one to Olivia though. Oh, wait, sorry, mixing up the sisters. Never mind, I won't offer one to you Delilah."

"That's fine. I'm not interested in your drink anyway," I said, glaring at him. Sherlock turned to sit on the sofa to Magnussen's right. "So what'd she give you? Information on us? Information on her husband? Did she spread her legs for you?"

Magnussen chuckled. "You are quite the feisty one, aren't you? Well, when you get bored with your consulting detective, you can always come to me. I'd be more than happy to entertain you for a night."

"In your dreams," I spat, going to sit next to Sherlock, watching as he set the laptop down between himself and Magnussen.

"Believe me, there have been plenty."

"Oh," Sherlock said calmly and I followed his gaze to the glass wall opposite of us. "It was you."

Projected onto the wall was a loop of footage, showing Sherlock rescuing John from the bonfire as well as my getting rescued, Desmond falling backwards time and time again, me crumpling to the floor in a small ball as Sherlock approached. It played on a continuous loop, switching from John's rescue to mine. I couldn't tear my eyes away.

"Yes, of course," Magnussen replied and I watched John glance over his shoulder before doing a double take. "Very hard to find a pressure point on you, Mr. Holmes."

"Mm."

John turned, walking towards the wall. I finally tore myself away, turning to look at Magnussen.

"The drugs thing I never believed for a moment. Anyway, you wouldn't care if it was exposed, would you?" Sherlock's mouth twitched before he shrugged. "But look how you care about John Watson and Delilah McKinley. Your damsels in distress."

I growled at that phrase, hands fisting at my side as John turned around. "You...put me in a fire...for leverage?"

"Aye, as he got the tapes from my sister as well."

"Oh, I'd never let you burn Doctor Watson. I had people standing by. As I'd never let Ms. McKinley have access to the entire tape. Got to keep her fragile psyche intact for fun in the future." Magnussen stood up and I only glared at him. "You see Dr. Watson, I'm not a murderer, unlike your wife."

I glanced at John, frowning at the look of pain and anger on his face. Magnussen sauntered over to the wall and I could tell he was enjoying it. "Let me explain how leverage works, Doctor Watson." There was a beep and Magnussen slid his finger across the glass, the footage disappearing off to the side. "For those who understand these things, Mycroft Holmes is the most powerful man in the country. Well...apart from me."

I saw Sherlock smiling out of the corner of my eye and I caught John's head tilt with curiosity. "Mycroft's pressure point is his junkie detective brother, Sherlock. And Sherlock's pressure point is his best friend, John Watson, and his fiancé, Delilah McKinley." I watched as he crossed to the couch. "I own John Watson's wife and Delilah McKinley's mind. I own Mycroft. He's what I'm getting for Christmas."

Magnussen held his hand out expectantly to Sherlock and Sherlock shoved the laptop across the sofa towards him. "It's an exchange, not a gift."

Sherlock stood up and I went to stand with him as well, but he rested a hand on my shoulder, shaking his head. Magnussen picked up the laptop, holding it to his chest. "Forgive me, but I already seem to have it."

"It's password protected," Sherlock replied. I began to feel uneasy and once more, the floor plans were nagging at my thoughts. "In return for the password, you will give me any material in your possession pertaining to the woman I know as Mary Watson."

"Oh, she's bad, that one. So many dead people. You should see what I've seen."

I closed my eyes, going to my library. I didn't want to hear about what Mary had done. The floor plans of Appledore were suspended in front of me on the table, rotating slowly.

"What is it?" I murmured, spinning it again and again. "Something's wrong. Something's off."

"I don't need to see it."

"You might enjoy it though. I enjoy it.

"Then why don't you show us?"

"Because he can't," I said to myself, freezing the plans, zooming in on the supposed basement where the vaults were. "Because if I'm right, there are no vaults under Appledore. These plans are wrong. They don't match up structurally to the rest of the house. Why didn't I see it before?"

"I want everything you've got on Mary." I could tell that Sherlock was trying to keep his voice calm and under control.

Magnussen laughed. "You know, I honestly expected something good."

I jerked out of my library, trying to hide the fear from my realization. I wanted to tell Sherlock, but I didn't know how to do it. There were no vaults here. We'd been lured into a trap and he didn't even realize it.

"Oh, I think you'll find the contents of that laptop-"

"Include a GPS locator. By now, your brother will have noticed the theft and security services will be converging on this house. Having arrived, they'll find top secret information in my hands and every justification to search my vaults. They will discover further information of this kind and I'll be imprisoned. You will be exonerated and free to marry Delilah, and restored to your smelly little apartment to solve crimes with Mr. and Mrs. Psychopath." I felt myself shaking and I could tell that John was gritting his teeth. I tried to catch Sherlock's attention, but he was so focused on Magnussen that he didn't see me signing T-R-A-P. "Mycroft has been looking for this opportunity for a long time. He'll be a very, very proud big brother."

"The fact that you know it's going to happen isn't going to stop it."

"Then why am I smiling?" I shuddered, feeling as though I were looking at the toothy smile of a shark before it bit down on me. "Ask me."

"Why are you smiling?" Judging by the tightness in John's voice, I knew he was reaching the end of his patience.

"Because Sherlock Holmes has made one enormous mistake which will destroy the lives of everyone he loves and everything he holds dear. But Delilah knows, don't you?" I said nothing. "Oh, I can tell by the fire in your eye that you know the truth." He stood up slowly from his seat. "Let me show you the Appledore vaults."

"No." I said softly. "Give it back and we walk away."

Magnussen turned that soulless smile onto me. "Oh dear, it's much too late for that. Do you want to tell them or should I let them figure it out on their own?"

"Please. Don't do this," I pleaded, going to stand in front of him. "Give it back, let us walk away."

"A little late for that Ms. McKinley." He patted my cheek patronizingly. "You should have taken the deal when it was still on the table."

"Lila, what's he talking about?" Sherlock questioned as we followed him.

I bit my lip. "I...I won't say. I only hope I'm not right. If I am, you'll know soon enough."

I felt my heart begin to sink as Magnussen put his hands on the wooden doors. "The entrance to my vaults. This is where I keep you all."

As the doors opened, I felt my heart plummet. I had been right. God damn it, I had been right. There was nothing in that small windowless room, painted white and brightly lit. There was nothing except for a low backed executive chair. I let out the breath I'd been holding, fighting to steady myself.

"Okay...so where are the vaults then?" John asked.

"There are none," I muttered under my breath. "Damn it, why couldn't I have seen it before?"

Magnussen stared at John before confirming my suspicions. "Vaults? What vaults? There are no vaults beneath this building. They're all in here." I looked to Sherlock, watching as it finally hit him and he looked down at me questioningly. "The Appledore vaults are my Mind Palace. You know about Mind Palaces, don't you, Sherlock? I would suppose that Delilah does as well, seeing as she managed to figure it out while sitting on my couch."

"Magnussen. Let us go. Please."

He shook his head, that same emotionless smile on his face. "No. I'm afraid I can't let you do that. How to store information so you never forget it by picturing it. Haven't you loved learning it Delilah? I know I did. I just sit here, I close my eyes, and down I go to my vaults."

I could picture it in my own head, more elaborate than the simple library I'd created, a staircase going down and down and down until there was a locked door that only Magnussen could open. I could see it, but it was the one place even I couldn't break into.

"I can go anywhere inside my vaults…my memories. I'll look at the files on Mrs. Watson."

I took Sherlock's hand, whispering, "I'm sorry I didn't figure it out sooner Sherlock."

"We'll discuss this later," he whispered back. "You and I are going to have to work on your speed."

I watched as Magnussen pantomimed going through folders and I could tell by the look on John's face, that same murderous smile that he'd had the night he'd found out about Mary, that he was beginning to understand exactly how Magnussen worked. I frowned, wondering if I would be able to grab the laptop and make a break for it before Mycroft and Magnussen's security men could get to me. I pictured myself making it about five feet out of the house before I was gunned down. I winced at the image.

"Mmm, ah. This is one of my favorites." Magnussen sat back in the chair. "Oh, it's so exciting. All those wet jobs for the CIA. Ooh! She's gone a bit…freelance now. Bad girl. Ah, she is so wicked. I can really see why you like her."

"Stop it!" I shouted, letting go of Sherlock's hand, stepping up to Magnussen and striking him across the face. His eyes flicked open and he looked at me in shock. "You're a monster."

"You struck me!"

"Yes, I did. I needed to prove to myself that you weren't some god damn machine. Why? Why do you feel the need to do this to people? What kind of monster are you?"

"Oh, you would know monsters wouldn't you? Let's see…" he closed his eyes as he went back into his mind palace. "Delilah McKinley. Former Paralegal. Thief. Porn preference, unknown. Finances, unknown. Status, unimportant. Pressure point," he paused, a smile forming on his lips. "Pressure point, Olivia, Sherlock Holmes, John and Mary Watson, mother, PTSD, rape, death by fire. Why, so much I can use against you Delilah. Where to start?"

"Enough," Sherlock said.

"But it's not. She struck me. So, let's start with your sister, shall we? Your sister who came to me, offering me all of your information on a silver platter in exchange for everything I had on her husband, one Mr. Jim Moriarty. I happily gave it to her. You know why?" I stared at him, horrified. "Because you have disrespected me, more times than most people get."

"So there are no documents," John interrupted, allowing me to step away from Magnussen, going to stand between John and Sherlock. "You don't actually have anything here."

"Oh, sometimes I send out for something if I really need it. But mostly I just remember it all."

John shook his head. "I don't understand."

"You should have that on a t-shirt," Magnussen's voice was oozing with sarcasm and I wanted to punch him in his face for being so rude to John.

"You just remember it all?"

"It's all about knowledge. Everything is. Knowing is owning." He looked at Sherlock and I as he said it and I began to shake, trying to control my rage.

"But if you just know it, then you don't have proof."

"Proof?" Magnussen practically spat the word. "What would I need proof for? I'm in news, you moron. I don't have to prove it. I just have to print it."

"You son of a bitch," I growled. "You're worse than a monster. You're the devil."

Magnussen laughed, shaking his head. "So quick to anger. Speaking of news, all three of you will be heavily featured tomorrow trying to sell state secrets to me. Let's go outside. They'll be here shortly." He walked out of the room, heading towards the glass doors. "Can't wait to see you arrested."

"Sherlock, do we have a plan?" John asked quietly.

Sherlock was fixed in place, staring down at the floor of the white room. I knew he was thinking, but I didn't know what it could be about. "Sherlock?"

He still didn't move.

"Sherlock." John's voice was stern, but Sherlock still didn't stir. John turned and walked away.

I stroked Sherlock's cheek. "Go to your palace my darling. If anyone can fix this, it's you. I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough. I love you."

I pressed a kiss to his cheek before going and joining John and Magnussen out on the patio.

"I still don't understand," I heard John say as I stepped outside.

"And there's the back of the t-shirt."

"You're a fucking asshole," I snarled, going to stand next to John. "I hope you realize that one day, you will get caught. Mycroft won't stop once his little brother gets put in prison. And Mary will be after you as well."

Magnussen laughed. "The Iceman and the pregnant assassin? Do you really think that I would be afraid of them?

I could see Sherlock slowly walking towards the patio door. John began to speak again. "You just know things. How does that work?"

"I just love your little soldier face. I'd like to punch it." Mine and John's eyes both went wide at his statement. "Bring it over here a minute." I grabbed John's hand, shaking my head as John looked to Sherlock standing in the doorway. "Come on."

I watched in horror as Sherlock gave John a short nod. I could tell that he was in pain having to do it. I didn't want to let go of John's hand, knowing that if I did, Magnussen would win and get what he wanted.

"For Mary. Bring me your face." John began to pull away from me and I clung desperately to his hand, not wanting him to go. If Sherlock wasn't going to stand up for him, I would. He managed to pull out of my grip, leaving me to stand, dumbfounded, on the patio.

"Lean forward a bit and stick your face out. Please?" I watched as John did as he was instructed and I knew that if Magnussen hit him that I would beat the man to death, damn the consequences. "Now, can I flick it?" John snorted in disbelief. "Can I flick your face?"

I watched as John stared at Magnussen, who flicked him hard in the cheek. I bit my tongue, fists clenching and unclenching. He did it once. Twice. A third time.

"I just love doing this. I could do it all day. It works like this, John. I know who Mary hurt and killed. I know where to find the people who hate her. I know where they live. I know their phone numbers." As he said this, he continued to flick John's face and I felt the tears begin rolling down my cheeks. "All in my Mind Palace…all of it. I could phone them right now and tear your whole life down. And I will, unless you let me flick your face."

"Stop it!" I cried, grabbing John's arm, pulling him away. "Stop! You want to hurt someone, hurt me. I doubt you could break me."

Magnussen smiled. "Oh, I believe I could. You see, all I have to do, is this." He reached up to touch the side of my face and I shuddered, wanting to recoil but knowing that Sherlock couldn't watch his friend hurt anymore and that John couldn't hear anything else about Mary. "This is what I do to people. This is what I do to whole countries just because I know."

His hand travelled lower, stroking against my neck before his hand covered my breast. I held back my tears, staring over his shoulder, trying to picture myself somewhere else, anywhere else. He bent down to my ear. "Can I kiss you now?"

I gulped, glancing at Sherlock, seeing his teeth bared. I felt my lower lip begin to tremble. "Come on, one kiss. Either that or I go back to flicking the stupid soldier's face. Come on. For Mary and John and Sherlock."

"Sherlock?" John asked and I wanted to struggle, to get away. I was beginning to panic.

"Let him. I'm…I'm sorry." Magnussen and I both looked at Sherlock and I winced at his words. "Just…let him."

"Come on. One kiss." He grabbed me by my hair, yanking my face up to look at him. "Janine gave me one once. You can too, I know you can."

Magnussen let me go as the sound of helicopters began to roar around us. I stepped away from him, shielding my eyes from the spotlight. Mycroft's voice blared out over a speaker. "Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Delilah McKinley. Stand away from that man!"

"Here we go, Mr. Holmes!"

Sherlock gave me a kiss on the cheek as he walked up to my side. He lingered for a moment before he shouted over the noise of the helicopter. "To clarify, Appledore's vaults only exist in your mind, nowhere else, just there."

Magnussen looked towards the helicopter. "They're not real. They never have been."

Mycroft's voice came again. "Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, and Delilah McKinley. Step away."

Magnussen waved his hands calmly at the helicopter. "It's fine! They're harmless!"

I heard a police radio crackle. "Target is not armed. I repeat, target is not armed."

"Sherlock, what do we do?" John shouted over all the noise.

I closed my eyes. "There's nothing we can do. It's over John."

"Nothing!" Magnussen confirmed. "There's nothing to be done! Oh, I'm not a villain, nor a monster. I have no evil plan. I'm a businessman, acquiring assets. You happen to be one of them. Sorry. No chance for you to be a hero this time, Mr. Holmes."

Sherlock looked between myself and John. I could tell by his eyes that there was something going on that I didn't understand. I wanted to go to him, pull him away. I wished that I could reverse time, go back to the cottage, convince Sherlock to not do this, that it was a trap.

"Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, and Delilah McKinley, stand away from that man. Do it now."

"Oh, do your research," Sherlock said loudly, lifting his head. As he spoke, I realized that something was missing, something very important that I had kept on my person since I'd first disarmed Mr. Aling all those many months ago. "I'm not a hero. I'm a high-functioning sociopath." I was stepping forward, going to stop Sherlock, knowing what he was going to do. "Merry Christmas!"

He pulled the trigger and I grabbed his arm, but it was too late. He'd already pulled the trigger, shooting Magnussen in the head. Sherlock dropped the gun and I kicked it away. Sherlock was raising his hands and I could hear police shouting man down over the radio everywhere.

"Get away from me, John! Stay well back! And you, Lila, get back! Get back!"

"No!" I nearly screamed at him. "If I move you'll be shot. No!"

"Christ, Sherlock!" John shouted.

Mycroft was also shouting. "Stand fire! Stand fire!"

The police marksmen were running towards the patio, aiming their rifles at Sherlock. I continued to stand in front of him, blocking him with my body, refusing to move. I would not watch him be shot and killed.

"Move Lila!" Sherlock shouted.

"NO!"

"Do not fire on Sherlock Holmes! Do not fire! I will not have civilian casualties!" Mycroft was still shouting and I turned to Sherlock, knowing that I was still shielding him, that laser sights were trained on both my body and his.

"Oh, Christ, Sherlock," John sounded breathless and sick.

Sherlock looked to John. "Give my love to Mary. Tell her she's safe now. And keep Lila safe for me please. I know she'll be devastated."

"I'm standing right here you know," I said, keeping my voice low so that no one else could hear but Sherlock. "I'm standing right here and I'm not leaving you. I know why you did it…but you didn't have to. We would have gotten him another way."

"No we wouldn't. This was the only way." He began to sink to his knees and I did as well, still using my body as his shield. "I love you. I hope you know that."

"I do…" I whispered, feeling the tears begin to slip down my face. "I know that and I love you. Promise me…promise me that you will come back to me."

I put my hands in the air as I knelt down, knowing that I was going to be dragged away for questioning.

"I can't make that promise, Lila. I will do my best, but I can't promise anything."

"Okay. Know that I love you Sherlock and I'll wait for you to come back to me, thief."

Sherlock's lips twitched. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You pickpocketed a pickpocket. Did you really think I wouldn't figure it out?"

Sherlock stayed quiet and I could tell that he was far away. There was a despair in his face I'd never seen before. I lowered my head, closing my eyes, trying to fight the tears. I knew he was going to prison, perhaps I would too. I was devastated, but now the world was rid of Magnussen and it was the better for it. Sherlock looked up at the helicopter hovering above us still and I couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. I was dragged away from Sherlock as the police stormed the patio. I felt the cuffs placed on my wrists and I went quietly, knowing that whatever happened next was what was meant to happen. As I was dragged away, I thought, for a split second, that I saw Sherlock weeping.

---

"You're being released. Your ride is waiting after you retrieve your things. Stay out of trouble Ms. McKinley." I nodded to the officer, getting up from my place on the bench. "I don't want to see you back in here."

I left the cell, going down the hall, picking up my cellphone, gun holster, and keys. I found Mycroft standing outside of the station, smoking a cigarette. "Did you have fun in lockup?"

"Oh shut up," I snapped. "Where's Sherlock? Did you…did you get him out?"

Mycroft glanced down at me before sighing out a plume of smoke. "No. And he will not get out. I am sending him away. I spent most of my day negotiating your release at my brother's request, as well as negotiating Sherlock's exile. He is being sent away on a case."

"Fine. I'll go with him."

"I'm afraid, my dear, that this is a case that he won't be returning from." There was pain in his voice. "I did all I could, but murder is murder."

I sighed. "I thought you'd say that. Where are you sending him?"

"You cannot follow him Delilah. He…he made me promise."

I ran a hand through my hair. "So, what, you expect me to wait here pining for him until one day you knock on the door to the flat and tell me that he's gone?"

"Precisely."

"You're a cold-hearted bastard, you know that? I can see why Moriarty called you Iceman."

Mycroft sighed. "Delilah, you are absolutely impossible. I don't know what my brother sees in you."

"Yes, I know," I said, turning to walk away.

"But on the patio, for a split second, I saw what he sees." I froze. "I saw who Delilah McKinley truly is. Loyal, brave, insanely stupid. And willing to do anything to protect my brother, even if it means that she may die in the process." I turned to see Mycroft smiling. "Why don't you let me buy you a coffee?"

"It's ten-thirty at night."

"Yes, but there's much we need to discuss." He held his arm out to me. "We'll go back to my room that I booked for the night then. I didn't feel like going home tonight. Come along. As you said, it's ten-thirty at night. Might I ask you a question while we walk?"

"Sure, if you'd like. Don't know how willing I'd be to answer them, but you can ask away."

"Why do you love my brother?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why fall in love with him? What is so special about him as opposed to someone normal like John?"

"John's not normal," I said with a chuckle. "Far from it. I mean, he's friends with myself and your brother. How normal can he be?"

"True. Very true." Mycroft hit the button for the crosswalk and we stood there on the corner, waiting. I shivered. "Are you cold?"

"A bit. I don't know what happened to my coat."

"You left it at our parents house," Mycroft replied, shrugging out of his own jacket, giving it to me. "You haven't answered my question yet."

"As I'm trying to come up with an answer. Why are you being so kind to me?"

"Answer the question Delilah."

I looked up at him, frowning. "If I answer yours, will you answer mine?"

"Fine. I fell in love with him because I trusted him. Despite all of our arguments and fights, his having to be right and my being stubborn, I adored him. I would do anything for him, as you saw on the balcony. The night he was shot nearly killed me too, knowing that he was gone." I kept my eyes straight ahead as we crossed the street. "You can't take him from me Mycroft. I will track him down and follow him to the ends of the earth, even if it means that I will die."

"But why do you love him?" Mycroft asked, holding the door to the hotel open for me.

"Because he is everything that I am not. He is ice and logic and sensibility and I am fire and emotions and passion. And together we balance each other out. He is, and to you this is going to sound very stupid, everything that I need and want in this life and I cannot be without him, as he cannot be without me." We stepped into the elevator, Mycroft pushing the button for the seventh floor. "He saved my life."

"And you saved his."

"Aye, I suppose I have. Mycroft...I know you can't understand love, but-"

"I can't. And I won't try to. But I can see the way he looks at you, the way his face changes when he talks about you. I believe you to be good enough for my brother. I am being kind to you, sister mine, because you make him happy." I felt my mouth fall open and Mycroft gave me the tiniest of smiles. "Don't mess it up. Here's the room key."

"Room key for what?" I asked, taking it from him.

"You'll see. Room 707. Thank me later. I'll return your coat to your flat and you can give mine back to me when my assistant gives you yours." He shoved me out of the elevator and I stumbled, turning to look at him as the doors closed. "Thank you Delilah, for keeping him safe."

The doors closed and I stood there, dumbfounded, looking down at the keycard in my hand. "What on earth are you up to Mycroft?"

I walked down the hall, stopping in front of room 707. I pressed my ear to the door, listening and hearing nothing. I put the key in the lock, watching as the light lit up a brilliant green. I pushed the door open and the sound of violin began to play. My mouth went dry when I saw Sherlock's silhouette against the window, his violin in his hands.

I closed the door, going to sit on the bed, watching as he played. I was mesmerized by the music, staring at him. He finished the song, lifting the bow from the violin. "You're late."

"I didn't know I was expected."

Sherlock turned to look at me. "Why didn't you move when I asked you to?"

"Really Sherlock? Why would I?"

"Because I asked you to."

I laughed. "Sherlock, since when have you known me to do anything that you asked me to?"

"Lila, you could have been killed."

"And so could you if I had moved," I protested, laying back on the bed. "Jesus, Sherlock, the first time I see you since you killed Magnussen and you want to have a debate about why I should or shouldn't have moved."

"What would you have me talk about?"

"I don't know. I mean, a simple how are you would have been nice. Or how are Mary and John holding up since this all happened? Which, they're fine by the way. John came to visit me in my cell today."

"I'm sorry that you were held for so long. I tried to get them to release you. But they thought that you'd handed me the gun and when it came back as being owned by some gentleman who is now in prison...well, they wanted to have you arrested." I sighed. "I convinced Mycroft to have the charges dropped against you."

"That was nice of you," I murmured, still staring at the ceiling. "Sherlock. I know you're leaving."

I heard him set his violin down before coming to lay next to me on the bed, both of us staring up at the ceiling. "Yes. I am."

I looked over at him. "And you'll be coming back when?"

He continued to stare at the ceiling. "We both know the answer to that question."

"I know. But I wanted to hear you say it. I won't believe it until you do."

Sherlock rolled over onto his side, propping himself up on one arm to look down at me. "Do you really want to hear me say it? Will it make it real for you?"

"Yes."

"Fine...I won't be coming back. Mycroft predicts that I'll have roughly six months before my cover is blown and then I will be summarily executed."

I swallowed hard, fighting the tears. "And then?"

"What do you mean and then? I'll be dead."

"What will they do with your body?"

"More than likely they'll dump me in a mass grave. They may send my head back to my brother, but that's only if they figure out who I am." He glanced over at me. "You knew this was going to happen."

"I knew that something was going to happen. They couldn't let you get away with murder. But this...this is...Sherlock, you can't go. We'll leave the country tonight, go back to Ireland, stay at my grandparents' old house out near Adare. They won't find us."

Sherlock pressed a kiss to my forehead. "My brother has me under surveillance so that I don't try something like that. It's a good try."

"Sherlock, you can't just go to die! There's so much left of life."

Sherlock chuckled, resting one hand on my hip. "Do you really think that I would die so easily? My brother may normally be right about these things, but I am very hard to kill as you've seen. I will do everything in my power to come back to you and then we will have our wedding."

I smiled despite the tears. "Do you promise me?"

"I don't make promises. But I will do my best. Now...how have you been? Did the police treat you alright?"

I nodded. "It was fine. I've been in a cell once or twice before. Nothing new. Same uncomfortable benches and noisy people."

"Well, you're here now."

"Yes, I am. But...why am I here?"

"You haven't figured it out yet?" He asked, his hand skimming over my body. "Really? I know you're smarter than that."

"Did Mycroft arrange this?" He nodded. "Well then, I'm assuming he intended to give us one last night to ourselves."

"Mmm."

"One last night for us to be together, to share before he sends you to your death."

"Sounds about right," he murmured, leaning down to kiss me. "One last night before your hero goes off to war."

I giggled. "I didn't know you were a hero. I thought you were a high functioning sociopath and that we all needed to do our research."

"That I am. But when I'm around you, I'm more than that." Sherlock pressed a kiss to my neck and I sighed. "I am a hero, a man. A good man is what I believe you called me."

"Aye. Because you are."

He laughed low in his throat. "Despite my killing Magnussen?"

"Even more so for killing that bastard."

He kissed me again and I tilted my head, deepening the kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him close to me. He pulled away, resting his forehead against mine. I stroked the back of his neck with my fingers, feeling him shudder against me. "How do you do this to me?"

"I could ask the same thing of you Mr. Holmes," I murmured, my eyes closed, enjoying the feel of his body pressed on top of mine. "But I think that some things are better left a mystery."

I heard the smile in his voice. "For once, I'll agree and say that this is one mystery I don't want to solve." I opened my eyes, finding Sherlock's open as well, seeming to peer into my soul. "I will miss you, Lila. Very much."

"I'll miss you too Sherlock...I...I don't want to lose you." The tears began to fall and he tenderly wiped them away.

"Hush now. No tears. This night is for us to make happy memories that will carry us through the next six months apart." Sherlock pressed another kiss to my forehead, but I felt a couple of teardrops fall into my hair. "I feel as if I'm losing a part of me that I didn't know I had until I met you."

"I feel the same way. I love you."

"I love you too Delilah."

I hooked one leg around his waist, smiling gently. Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"Well, what normal couples do when they declare their affections for one another. If you'd have me that is." Sherlock and I smiled and then our lips touched for what would probably be one of our last kisses.

---

"Sherlock?" I murmured, tracing the muscles on his chest with my fingertips.

"Mmm?"

"Why do you love me?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Curiosity."

He propped himself up on his elbow. "Come take a shower with me."

"Will I get an answer if I do?"

"Yes. Come on."

He took my hand, leading me to the bathroom. I followed him, sitting on the edge of the spacious counter as he turned the water on, letting it warm up. When he turned back to me, there was a smile on his face. "Look at you."

"Look at me what?"

"Just look at you. Regal, graceful, commanding. Beautiful. And there's that smile that I've missed." He stepped between my legs, grabbing my waist as I smiled up at him. "You're breathtaking when you smile. It lights up the whole room."

"Are you drunk?"

"No. Completely sober minus a bit of nicotine." He brushed my hair from my face. "You know I heard you in that hospital room when you told me how you see me?"

"And?"

"I didn't picture you as a romantic or one prone to long speeches."

I laughed. "I could say the same about you. Never thought I'd hear you say the words I love you."

"I never thought I'd say them either. But I guess the impossible can become possible." He pulled me closer to him. "You are my impossibility. The person I could never deduce, the one person that, in all honesty, I should have never loved. Sentiment, romantic thoughts and feelings, caring...none of that was even on my very limited emotional spectrum until I pulled you in off the street. But you...you changed everything."

I smiled, pulling his head down to me, pressing a kiss to his lips, our naked bodies molding against one another. His hands tightened on my hips and I buried my fingers into his hair, feeling that same burning need in the pit of my belly that I'd had since the first time we'd kissed on Christmas last year. One hand fisted itself in my hair, the other cupping my breast, his thumb running over the hard nipple. I moaned into his mouth and he was kissing down my jaw and neck, pressing kisses anywhere that he could.

Sherlock lifted me off the counter and I wrapped my legs around his waist, pressing my body against his. We stepped into the shower and he was pushing me against the wall. Tongue met tongue and body met body even as the hot water washed over us. I barely even felt the water as Sherlock slid inside of me. He held me tight even as he thrust deep inside of me. I let out another moan even as he leaned down, licking and gently biting my nipples.

He began to thrust harder and faster. I felt as though I were flying towards the edge of orgasm at breakneck speeds. My nails dug into his back, my head resting against the wall of the shower as I looked down at him. He straightened up, still keeping the rhythm.

"I want to watch you," he whispered in my ear and I shuddered. "I want to watch you fly over that edge."

"Go with me," I panted out, lightly nipping at his neck. "Sherlock...go with me."

I stared into his eyes and I felt myself standing on that edge. I began to fall and I cried out his name even as he pushed harder and faster before moaning out my name, burying his face in my shoulder. He slid out of me and I unwrapped my legs from around his waist, standing on trembling legs in front of him. His face was still buried in my shoulder and I ran my nails gently down his back. He shuddered, pressing a whisper of a kiss against the side of my neck.

"Good?" I murmured and he nodded, arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me tight against him. "Good. Now, why don't we get our shower?"

He stood up. "I suppose. I won't be ready again for another couple of hours."

I raised an eyebrow. "Three times in one night?"

"What can I say? If this is our last night together, I want it to be a special one." He grabbed the shampoo bottle from the bottom of the tub, squirting some out in his hand. "Now turn around so that I can wash your hair."

I did as he said, feeling his fingers begin to scrub my scalp. I let my head fall back, feeling myself relax almost instantly. "You know, if your career as a consulting detective or a violinist didn't work out, you could always wash hair for a living."

Sherlock chuckled. "Oh, I highly doubt anyone would want me washing their hair. The moment they opened their mouth I'd have some sort of remark."

"True. Well, that's fine because I don't want to share your magic fingers with the world anyway." Sherlock guided me to the water and I rinsed out my hair. As I did, his hands traced down my naked body, fingers pausing on the scar on my lower abdomen. "What is it?"

"I...never looked at the bullet wound scar you had. Moriarty...married your sister then, did he?"

"It would seem so. I'm sure you saw when she was holding the gun, the two bands on her left hand."

"I did. He never seemed the type to marry though."

"Well, I mean, they were perfect for one another. I'm glad he's dead."

"I am too," Sherlock murmured, pulling me from the water, massaging conditioner into my hair. "I'd hate to have to go up against both of them. Do you know how they met?"

"On holiday in 2006. She'd gone to Ireland to visit family and met him at a local pub. They hit it off right away. I've no doubt that he played some role in getting her into the world of crime. Probably told her that she would be bettering the world. That was her reason for doing everything. She wanted to make the world a better place." I frowned. "I suppose that if you're as smart as Moriarty, you know how to play people like my sister. Or maybe she really is evil."

"Don't worry. You're safe. I've already told Mycroft and John. They'll keep an eye on you while I'm gone."

"It's not about my feeling safe. It's about my not wanting something bad to happen to you or John or Mary because of me. While my sister is out there, she will find any and every thing she can to hurt me. It's why she went to Magnussen. She knew that whatever he would do would hurt me." I sighed. "Let's not kill the moment."

"You're right," Sherlock said, sticking my head back under the water, scrubbing to get the conditioner out. "Let's not. Once that's out you'll be all done. There should be someone knocking on the door in a bit. Mycroft is having food brought to the room for us."

"That's awfully kind of him."

"It is. I'm not questioning it."

"Neither am I," I said in agreeance, running a hand through my hair to make sure that all of the conditioner was out. "But I'm done. You get your shower and I'll see you in a few minutes."

Sherlock smiled, giving me a quick kiss. I touched the side of his face before exiting the shower, grabbing a towel off of the rack, drying my body off quickly before wrapping my hair up. I grabbed a robe from the shelf above the towel rack, wrapping myself in it. I went straight to the window, gazing out at the city below.

I thought back to how my life had changed so drastically in a year's time. But I wouldn't change a single thing about it, even the bad. It had been the bad things that had brought Sherlock and I closer together. This was one more obstacle for us to overcome and then he would be back to me and we would finally be married. I knew that he would come back to me. Something in my heart told me that and I had to have hope that it was true.

I heard my phone buzz and I went to where I'd left it on the bedside table. I flipped it open.

Where are you? I've been waiting at the flat for the past hour for you to get home. Are you alright? -JW

I'm fine. I'm safe. I'll see you and Mary tomorrow. -DM

After we're done at the airfield tomorrow. Sherlock's being sent away. You're coming with us, right? -JW

No. I'm saying my good-byes a bit early. -DM

So you're where they're keeping Sherlock? -JW

Yes. He sends his regards. You'll see him tomorrow. I can't see him like that. I'll talk to you later. Room service just knocked on the door. -DM

I got up from the bed, going to open the door. The man wheeled in a cart with a bucket of champagne and two covered plates. Sherlock stepped out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist and I smiled as the man gaped at him.

"What, have you never seen a man in a towel before?"

"Y-you're-"

"Sherlock Holmes, yes, I know. Now, if you're done, would you please leave? I would like to enjoy the rest of my night without having someone gawk at me." The man scurried out, closing the door behind him. Sherlock turned to look at me. "What?"

"A bit harsh, don't you think?"

"Perhaps. But we only have eight and a half more hours before Mycroft's men come to escort me down to my plane."

I frowned. "Don't remind me."

"Sorry. But...should we eat?" He lifted the lids off of our meals, revealing two steaks and some steamed vegetables. "I know it's not fish and chips, but-"

I chuckled, shaking my head before going to sit at the table where Sherlock was sitting our plates. "You know, I do eat more than that."

Sherlock smiled, pouring a glass of champagne for both of us. "I know. You seem to have an addiction to them though."

I took a sip of my champagne. "No, not an addiction. It's more of a comfort thing. That's the one food I'll eat, even if I'm not hungry. If I won't eat that, you know that something's wrong."

"So I've noticed." Sherlock cut into his steak and I was happy to see him eat. "So tell me, how did you figure out that there were no vaults under Appledore?"

I took a bite of my steamed vegetables. "My Mind Palace. Or, Mind Library I should say. A palace is a bit too big for me to manage at the moment. I've got it so that I can project images from the center of the table and manipulate them as you would a movie." Sherlock seemed genuinely intrigued. "I had a 3-D projection up of Appledore, as well as all of the floor plans. I layered all of them over each other and realized that they didn't match up. Which meant that either we had the wrong plans, which I doubted, or there were no vaults."

Sherlock was grinning from ear to ear. "You are a lot smarter than you let on."

I blushed, something that Sherlock hadn't been able to get me to do for a long time. "Thank you Sherlock. That...means alot coming from you."

"Well, you are. You've managed to grasp the concept of a Mind Palace in three months and you've been using it. Really, all we need to do is work on your analysis speed. You won't be as smart as me, but you'd be damn better than most people."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't know whether to be insulted or flattered."

"Flattered. I don't give compliments easily. You know this."

"Well, I'll practice while you're gone. I was thinking about getting a job at Scotland Yard. I'm sure Greg could put in the good word for me. That and with you gone, I'll have to find a way to pay for the flat-"

"Don't worry about that. Mycroft will be taking care of the flat. You can keep your job at the clinic, get your degree in nursing that you've been thinking about getting." I stared up at him, eyes wide. "What? Did you think I wouldn't notice you studying?"

"My-Mycroft is paying...for the flat?" I choked out. "Your brother? Your brother who despises me?"

"He and I talked. A couple of times actually. Once outside the flat and once when he secured my exile." Sherlock continued to eat, acting as if he hadn't dropped a bombshell on me. "I told him I wanted you taken care of and protected. That you had nothing to do with any of it and were, in fact, a victim. I also told him that if you ended up back on the streets, I would leave exile, hunt him down, and personally choke the life out of him."

He said this so calmly and I was taken aback by it. "But...why on earth would Mycroft agree?"

"Who knows why Mycroft does anything. Probably views you as a potential ally on cases or something. You never know with him. Eat your food before it gets cold."

I shook my head, chuckling. "Fine. Have it your way."

He smiled at me and I smiled back, eating the rest of our meal in silence.

---

I woke up at 6:30 to the sunshine beginning to peek over the horizon through the curtains. I slowly got out of bed, going to stand to look out the window as the city came to life. I glanced back at Sherlock, looking at his peaceful face, one arm tucked under his head, the other on the bed where I'd been asleep. I felt the tears touch my eyes, knowing that this would be the last time that I saw him for a very long time, if not forever. I brushed his hair away from his forehead, pressing a kiss there tenderly. He murmured something before rolling onto his back and I smiled.

I dressed quickly, putting on the same pink jumper and black dress slacks I'd had on the day before, as well as Mycroft's coat. I brushed my hair, looking at myself in the mirror, taking a deep breath. I knew I wouldn't be able to face him awake. I wanted to leave things in my mind as they were so I could call up the memories we'd created that night instead of painfully awkward good-byes. I grabbed my phone and keys before spotting the pen and paper on the nightstand. I frowned before deciding to write my final note to Sherlock until he returned.

My dearest Sherlock,

I wanted to write you a letter this morning, explaining my actions. I do not wish for our last moments to be filled with painful good-byes and awkward tears. I've never been good at them anyway. I wish to remember you as we were last night. I will miss you dearly and I know that I cannot write to you where you're going. I also know that you cannot make any promises to me about returning. But I wish to make a promise to you, one that you can keep with you and read when you are missing me.

I promise you, Sherlock Holmes, that I will love you every day that you are gone and I will miss you with every breath I take. I promise you that I will wait day and night for you to return home to my arms once more. I will remain steadfast by your side, no matter how many miles or oceans they try to put between us. I am a phone call away and should you need anything, I will be there in the blink of an eye.

I love you. I have loved you since I first met you and I will love you until my last breath. Go now, for the game is on. But when you are done, come back to me and make me your wife.

This is not good-bye my darling, but merely see you soon.

Love always,

Lila

I folded the note, writing his name in cursive on the front before placing it by his hand where I'd been sleeping. I pressed one last kiss to his forehead before I left the room, leaving my heart behind, asleep in the bed.

Thank you. -DM

What on earth are you thanking me for? -MH

For everything. You're a great big brother to him. Promise me you'll do your best to protect him. -DM

I will do what I can. But it comes down to him at the end of it all. There is something waiting for you at the flat. Sherlock asked me to pick it up this morning and leave it for you. -MH

What is it? -DM

You'll see. -MH

I arrived at 221B to find Mrs. Hudson upstairs, talking with someone. I approached slowly, reaching down for the gun in my holster before remembering that Mycroft's men still had it in their custody. I cursed, creeping up the stairs, pushing the door open. Mrs. Hudson was standing in front of something on the floor, speaking to it.

"Oh, aren't you adorable! Yes you are!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Mrs. Hudson? Mrs. Hudson, what are you talking to?"

"Oh! Oh, Delilah, you gave me a fright!" Mrs. Hudson tittered, placing one hand on her chest. "Mycroft told me that you would be home soon and to keep an eye on her for you."

"Her?"

"Yes, her. Didn't you know about her?"

I stepped next to Mrs. Hudson, looking down into the cardboard box. I let out a cry of delight as I saw the small Irish setter puppy leaping around inside the box. I picked her up and she began licking my face, tail wagging furiously. I giggled, holding her close to me.

"Oh, you're so precious. Yes you are!" She continued to lick my face and I laughed. "Alright, alright. Stop."

She settled in my arms after a couple more minutes and I scratched behind her ears. I looked at Mrs. Hudson, watching as she reached out to pet the pup. "Does she have a name?"

"Well, she has a collar. I suppose that she would have a name." I grabbed the tag, reading it. "Scarlett." I flipped it over. "If lost, please return to Mr. and Mrs. Holmes at 221B Baker Street."

"You and Sherlock, you've gotten married?"

"No, not yet. We're going to when he returns back. Mrs. Hudson, would you mind keeping Scarlett for an hour or so? I've got to prep everything for her so that she doesn't chew on any electrical cords or anything."

"Of course dear. I'll be cleaning downstairs. I'll take her box with me, keep her in that."

"Thank you." I gave her a smile. "I'll be down soon."

"Alright." She began to leave, carrying the box in one hand, the puppy in the other before she turned to me. "Weren't you going to go and say your good-byes to Sherlock?"

"I already did Mrs. Hudson. I'll see him when he returns."

Mrs. Hudson nodded. "He found a good woman when he found you. I'll see you in a bit dear."

I watched as she began to go down the stairs and I closed the door. I stood there for a second before saying, "What are you doing here?"

"Oh Del, what wouldn't I be doing here is the better question?" Olivia stepped from around the corner, grinning from ear to ear. "I heard about your boyfriend. What a shame he turned out to be a murderer? I am glad to see that the shock of him being a murderer didn't dull your senses any."

"No it hasn't. And if you'd like to talk about murderers, why don't we talk about your husband? Are you saying your husband wasn't?"

I watched her eyes darken. "No. He's not."

"I seem to remember a time when he shot me in the stomach and left me to die. Or was that not him?"

"So you did get the tapes! Excellent! I was worried that Magnussen would keep them for himself. What did you think of our father's execution tape? I tried to add a bit of artistic flare to it. Jimmy said that it wasn't that bad for my first time."

"I think you're a sick and twisted human being."

"You always were such a spoilsport Del. Come now, tell me what you really think?" She sat down in Sherlock's chair and I ground my teeth together. "Don't be shy. I love a good critic's opinion."

"You want my opinion? My opinion is that you should be dead like your stupid husband. Mr. and Mrs. Moriarty, buried together in the same plot. You two really were made for each other. Tell me, does it hurt to know that he's dead because of my fiance?"

Olivia pulled out a gun, getting to her feet, aiming it at my head. "One more word and I will blow your fucking brains out. One more fucking word, Del, and I swear I will drop you where you stand."

"Do it. But know that you will have the world's greatest consulting detective on your trail." We circled each other and I had my back to the kitchen, Olivia standing in front of me. "You know that he will not stop until he hunts you down and finishes you himself."

Olivia began to laugh, her laughter growing in volume even as she kept the gun trained on me. "He is right you know, my husband. You and little Sherlock Holmes are both idiots."

"Is? You mean was, right?"

I felt the pinprick in my neck and I staggered away, the room spinning around me. I clutched at the puncture wound, but it was too late. Whatever they'd dosed me with was moving fast through my system and I was falling to the floor. Someone caught me, setting me down on my back. Those black eyes came into my vision and I tried to let out a shriek of terror, but no sound escaped from between my lips. He knelt down next to me, that manic smile on his lips. My vision began to grow dark, but not before I heard Jim Moriarty speak.

"Hello sister dear. Long time no see. Did you miss me?"

*And that my dear readers, is where I will end. I hope you all enjoyed and I will see you in the next work!*