Mary, Mary, wake up Mary."

Mary opened her eyes to find Sherlock Holmes, coat and all, standing beside her bed. She sat up, only afterwards remembering to cover her nightgown with the sheet.

"Hurry and get dressed," he said.

"What is it? Have they found John?"

"No, but Mycroft called. They found the girl with the three-color hair, so do hurry and put on some clothes, and please leave off on the twenty minute moisturizing treatment today. You look fine."

Sherlock stormed out of the room, then leaving the door open.

Mary fell back on the bed and sighed. She gave herself a moment, and then she rose to her feet, pulling on her robe and rushing off to the bathroom to shower.

Some time later an impatient Sherlock walked through the doors of Scotland Yard with Mary shuffling along at his heels. Lestrade glanced at the two of them, but wisely did not mention John's absence as he ushered them into an observation room. On the other side of the glass was the woman from the video, the woman with the three color hair. She was young, in her early twenties. She wore a gold nose ring, and absentmindedly rubbed her elbow as she glanced from side to side, clearly nervous at being detained.

"About time you showed up. She's been here for over an hour. Why did you need us to pick her up anyway? Your brother made it seem like it was a matter of national security. "

"Nothing quite so trivial. She is the last person to have seen John Watson. We thought that she might know his whereabouts."

Lestrade frowned. "Are you telling me that we brought that woman in to help you find out where your best friend is hiding? Really, Sherlock. I can't be using state resources on this kind of thing. I was in enough trouble before you came back. Let's not get you banned from all cases, again."

"Lestrade, calm yourself. We only need a few moments to find out what she knows, and then you can let her go. If you have any difficulties, I'm sure that my brother can iron them out. He practically is the government."

"So you've said, but if she starts spouting off about unfair treatment at Scotland Yard, my job might come under review again and ..."

"Yes, yes understood, now let me talk to her.."

Lestrade opened the door and Sherlock strode in followed by Mary. He sat across the table from the woman, folding his hands as he stared across at her. Mary and Lestrade took seats on either side.

The young woman looked nervously at the three of them. Then she stuck out her lower lip in anger saying, "Why have you brought me heah? I got rights! You can't just pick people up off of the street for no reason. I was going to work. They're going to dock my pay, and who's gonna get me that money back, I'd like to know."

"Eczema?" Sherlock said.

"What?"

"You have eczema."

The woman looked at him curiously, "How do you know that?"

"It's there on the edge of your hairline, seborrhoeic dermatitis, sometimes called 'cradle cap'. You have it off and on, but now its been flaring up on your arm as well."

"Yeah. But what does that have to do with anythin' "

"You need to stop wearing those wool jumpers. They irritate your skin."

"Is that why you brought me here? Because of my eczema? That's daft!"

"No, I brought you here to tell me where John Watson is."

The woman's face, which had softened a bit, became firm again. "Who?"

"Come now, you were seen entering an establishment called Brandywine's with him. Where is he now?"

"Am I being charged with somethin'?"

"No, Miss," Lestrade chimed it. "We are simply seeking information."

"Then, you have no right to keep me heah. I'm going to lodge a complaint with the IPCC. "

Lestrade frowned. Sherlock opened his mouth about to begin another round of questioning, when he was distracted by Mary who leaned across the table to touch the woman's hand. The woman with three color hair looked up at Mary who smiled back at her.

"Hello," Mary said.

The woman was momentarily taken aback. She stared at her.

"My name is Mary, Mary Watson. I'm John's wife. Do you mind if I ask you your name?"

"Um...I'm Jazz. That's what people call me."

"Hello Jazz. I'm very pleased to meet you. I'd like to apologize for making you late for work. All of this is my fault. It's silly, actually. You see John and I had a fight. You know how couples are, and John has a bit of a hot head sometimes. He has to walk these things off. He's been gone now longer than normal, and so I asked for help finding him. I didn't mean for you to be inconvenienced. I'm sorry. I wouldn't have bothered you at all, except that I worry. He's never just ...walked off like this before.

"I know that you're probably sworn to secrecy, and I wouldn't want to make you have to betray a confidence, but I really need to know if John is alright. Please."

Jazz smiled back and squeezed Mary's hand. "Don't worry. He's coming back, soon. I'm sure that he wouldn't leave a woman such as yourself alone for long."

"Do you know where he went?"

"No. Honestly, I don't think they knew. Harr just said she'd call me when she got back in town. I'm sorry Mrs Watson. I can't help you."

"Oh, that's alright. You've set my mind at ease. Thank you. I apologize again for calling you away from work."

"That's fine. That old bat can see what it's like to do a few things herself for once."

"Even so, let me make amends. Inspector, do you think that you can get someone to take Jazz to work, perhaps by way of her house so that she has a chance to change out of that itchy sweater."

Lestrade jumped, "Right!" he said rising to his feet. He nodded at the mirror. A few seconds later the door opened and an officer escorted Jazz out of the room. Lestrade caught the officer's arm and said in a low voice, "Get her a bite to eat as well, will you? I'll owe you."

Sherlock had turned his entire torso toward Mary. "Impressive," he said. "John is good at calming people, but I think that you're even better at it. I saw a snake tamer once. She could calm a snake with eye contact and the motion of her head. You seem to be able to do it with a touch. You turned her right around within three seconds."

"No. She simply recognized my sincerity. She understood what I was feeling. I didn't trick her."

"Ha!"

Lestrade, who had been standing in the open door, leaned into the room and asked. "Either of you fancy a coffee?"

Sherlock shook his head, but Mary said, "I would love a coffee, thank you."

The door closed with a click and Mary turned to see Sherlock's eyes watching her intently.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"You like coffee."

"Yes."

"Why don't you ever make coffee? When you stayed over at my flat, you didn't make coffee. I thought perhaps you didn't like instant, or you were afraid that I had poisoned it, a not unreasonable thing to do in the house of one's enemy. But this morning you also didn't make coffee even though you had time to start it brewing before you showered. In fact, I can't ever remember seeing you make coffee even though you like it. You don't seem to have a problem with cooking other things. John is very complementary of your cooking which seems to cover a wide range of cuisines except, as I have mentioned, coffee. Why is that?"

Mary glanced at her fingertips saying nothing. Sherlock smirked as if he had just found the key to an interesting puzzle, when he was interrupted by a beep from his phone. He read.

[I recommend that you not pursue this line of reasoning.]

Sherlock frowned. Then he texted back rapidly, [Piss off, Mycroft] .

He put the phone in his pocket and rose to his feet.

"I suggest that we continue our conversation someplace else. This room has a bug infestation."

Sherlock rapped on the door and they walked out and down the hall. Lestrade met them there, two coffee cups in his hand. "Sherlock, where are you going?"

"To pursue the lead that we were given."

"What lead?"

"This Jazz, what is her real name?"

"Jacqueline Taylor."

"She told us that John has left London. He didn't take his passport, so he hasn't left the country. She also said that Harriet Watson was going to contact her. How? By phone most likely? I have already traced her phone and John's and they are both in London, so how is she planning to contact Jazz? Would it not be logical for her to have exchanged phones with her? I need to hack into Jazz Taylor's mobile phone. We haven't a moment to lose. Come along, Mary."

Sherlock swept out of the building. Mary took a few sips of the coffee and then handed it back to Lestrade with a thank you, before following Sherlock.