First of all, can I just say WOW! I seriously cannot belive how much follows, favs and reviews my story is getting! It's crazy and I'm so thankful for each and every one!

Secondly, SERIES THREE. I personally loved the episode. New Sherlock is so energetic and...happy! Mark Gatiss is such a fanatastic writer.

Thirdly, there's a slight plot twist in this chapter. Well, not really. Just a tiny bit. Kinda. Anyway, I hope you guys like it. If you do, please leave a comment :)

'Why don't you like Sherlock, Sally?' Donovan spins around, looking at me incredulously. 'Who says I don't like him?' She narrows her eyes. 'Did he say that to you?'

I smile softly. 'He didn't have to.' Donovan continues to eye me suspiciously. 'Who are you, anyway? Why are you staying with Sherlock?'

'I'm… Um Mrs Hudson is my Aunt. I'm staying in her flat while she's um… away.' I shrug my shoulders a little too enthusiastically, resulting in a miffed growl resonating from within my pea coat. Donovan takes a rather large step back, pointing to my chest. 'D – Did your coat just… growl?' I open my mouth to explain, but Catsby pops his little head up through my scarf before I can. 'Wha- Why is there a cat…' Donovan just stares, shaking her head, but laughs in spite of herself. 'You're quite the character, I'll give you that.'

I return the smile and look beyond her. Oh, Sherlock's going to make a complete arse of himself now. Fantastic. 'Listen, I'd better go and… help.' I point behind Donovan, who raises her eyebrows. 'Hah, you can try.' I rush past her as Sherlock makes his way towards the sniffling woman. 'Okay yeah, that was a lie. I just really don't want to miss this.'

'… Sherlock Holmes. Very old friend of your husband's. We, um ...' I arrive just as Sherlock activates the waterworks. '... we grew up together.' Oh please.

The woman looks at Sherlock tearfully. 'I'm sorry, who? I don't think he ever mentioned you.'

Sherlock wipes a tear from his eye. A motherfucking tear. 'Oh, he must have done. This is ... this is horrible, isn't it?' I catch John's eye and we both have to turn away to hide the onslaught of sniggers.

Meryl Streep continues with his mother-of-sorrows act. 'I mean, I just can't believe it. I only saw him the other day. Same old Ian – not a care in the world.'

The woman stares at Sherlock. 'Sorry, but my husband has been depressed for months. Who are you?'

Sherlock, who now has actual tears running down his cheeks, frowns and looks into the distance. 'Really strange that he hired a car. Why would he do that? It's a bit suspicious, isn't it?'

'No, it isn't. He forgot to renew the tax on the car, that's all.' I attempt to give my best consoling look, but Sherlock's breath hitches and does that little hiccupy thing people do when they cry. Oh Christ he's good. I can't contain myself and actually laugh out loud. 'S-Sorry..' I wince and hide behind John. 'I'm not good with death.' I explain to the pissed-off woman.

Sherlock smiles tearfully. 'Oh, well, that was Ian! That was Ian all over!'

The woman shakes her head, beginning to suspect him. 'No it wasn't.' Instantly Sherlock's fake persona drops and he looks at her intensely. 'Wasn't it? Interesting.' He turns on his heel and walks away.

John and I hurry after him. 'Oh, that never fails to make me laugh.' I burst out, unable to supress the giggles any longer.

Sherlock glares at me. 'Yes you made that very apparent, thank you Audrey.'

I roll my eyes. 'Look I'm sorry, but you should have seen your face!' I snigger. 'You should put that on your CV - "Can cry on cue". Really,' I look up at him. 'It's impressive.'

'Why did you lie to her?' John inquires beside me.

Sherlock, taking his gloves off to wipe the tears from under his eyes, sighs. 'People don't like telling you things, but they love to contradict you. Past tense, did you notice?'

'Sorry, what?' John glances at me.

'I referred to her husband in the past tense. She joined in. Bit premature – they've only just found the car.' Sherlock explains tiredly.

John frowns at him. 'You think she murdered her husband?'

'Nah.' I sigh and shake my head at the same time Sherlock says 'Definitely not.' He throws me withering look and continues. 'That's not a mistake a murderer would make.'

'I see.' John nods and pauses. 'No, I don't. What am I seeing?'

'Fishing! Try fishing!' Donovan calls out to John as we pass. John turns around and gives her an exasperated nod before following Sherlock again. I smile and wave at her. 'Bye Sally.'

Donovan appraises me for a moment before responding. 'See you Audrey. And your… cat.'

Sherlock spins around. 'What does she mean by your ca – Oh for god's sake!' I pull Catsby out from my coat, shrugging. 'It's cold outside.' Sherlock pinches the bridge of his nose and strides ahead, muttering contemptuously.

John stays behind to wait for me. 'You're such a weirdo.' He grins, shaking his head.

'Now tell me once more what you're to do.' Sherlock instructs me before I open the cab door. I sigh and turn towards him. 'I must leave Catsby in the apartment, come straight back down and get a taxi to Janus Cars. I know.'

'Good.' Sherlock nods his head, satisfied. 'And don't even dream of – '

'- Going elsewhere, talking to strangers, rob a bank or steal a car.' I reply sarcastically, ticking the options off on my fingers. 'Got it.' I push the car door open and make my way up the steps of 221B.

'Okay Catsby, be a good boy for maman.' I place a kiss on his head and set him down on the sofa. Running to Sherlock's bedroom (well, my bedroom now), I grab a pair of small, fur-lined gloves. Pulling them on, I admire the soft leather material. The Narnians have good taste.

Shutting the front door firmly behind me, I wrap my tartan scarf tighter around my neck and raise my arm to hail a taxi. A sleek black car with tinted windows pulls up in front of me. Ugh, not now Mycroft. Anthea, or maybe not Anthea… I don't know they all look the same, steps out from the backseat and holds the door open for me. Rolling my eyes, I slide in. 'Mycroft, now is not the best time to –' I trail off and meet a pair of black eyes.

Oh shit.

Moriarty grins dangerously. 'Hello, Blue Eyes.' I feel my pulse quickening. 'Miss me?' Moriarty leans forward, speaking to the driver. 'Just circle the street for a bit. This won't take long.' He settles back into the cream leather seat and turns to face me, one arm stretching across the seat behind my head. He checks his watch. 'Ooh, only three more hours. Sherlock's getting slow.' I meet his gaze and, with all the courage I could muster, throw him an icy glare.

'What do you want, Jim?'

He smirks and drums his fingers on his knee. 'Brilliant girl isn't she… Molly. Kind, clever… honest.' He looks into my eyes as he says that last word, searching them. 'She told me the strangest thing yesterday.' He laughs loudly. 'She told me that you… read yourself here. Into this world. Isn't that crazy?' His laughing stops abruptly as he leans in, tilting his head. 'Now, why would she tell me that?'

I play along with him, raising my eyebrows. 'Haven't the foggiest.'

Moriarty's grip tightens on the seat. 'Oh, but I think you do. Dear Molly was so upset she'd told me, she worried she'd make Sherlock angry if he knew.' He widens his eyes, feigning sympathy. 'But it got me thinking…what if?' His voice drops to a whisper. 'What if it's true?' He takes his hand away from behind my head and places it on his chin. 'So I just had to steal you away and see for myself.' He flashes a wide grin. 'So, go on…'

Sweet baby Jesus. He's actually as crazy as they say.

'Look, I have no idea what you're talk-' I begin but he raises a hand, silencing me.

'Show. Me.' He moves closer, his voice losing all playfulness.

Just show him, Aud. You don't know what you're dealing with.

'I don't have a book.' I snap, glaring at him.

'Georgia. Your phone.' He barks at the woman sitting in the front. 'Now.' Georgia immediately hands over the iPhone.

I hesitantly take the phone from his hand. The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, by C.S Lewis, is printed across the small screen.

Oh the irony.

I sigh and begin reading the short passage.

'"Why, it is just like branches of trees!" exclaimed Lucy. And then she saw that there was a light ahead of her; not a few inches away where the back of the wardrobe ought to have been, but a long way off. Something cold and soft was falling on her.'

I shiver, noticing the temperature in the car drop considerably.

'A moment later she found that she was standing in the middle of a wood at night-time with snow under her feet and snowflakes falling through the air.' My breath fogs as I finish the passage.

I look up. Tiny icicles cling to the corners of the glass windows. As Moriarty rolls the window down, a sudden breeze blows snow flurries into the car, covering our hair and coats. He turns to look at me, a triumphant grin stretching across his face. 'I think I've just found my new favourite toy.'

My fingers fumble on the lock of the door, I can't control the shaking. Wrenching it open I climb the stairs, only making it half way up before my legs buckle and give out underneath me. I stay there, on that sixth step, breathing deeply and trying to calm myself. When I feel strong enough to walk again, I slowly continue my way up, bolting the door shut behind me. I slide down until I hit the floor, wrapping my arms around my knees.

Oh God, Audrey. What have you done?

'Audrey! Aud – Oh thank God!' John sighs in relief as I peek my head around the bathroom door. 'Sherlock. Sherlock! She's here.' John hollers down the stairway. I dart back into the bathroom and quickly pull my wet hair into a bun. Wrapping the towel around my body, (twice, just in case) I brace myself for the lecture.

'Oh! Hello, Audrey.' Sherlock waves sarcastically. 'Forget something?'

'Sherlock, listen, I'm sorry but I –' I try to explain but Sherlock cuts me off. 'What did I tell you to do? I told you to drop Catsby home, get a taxi and come straight to Janus Cars. Not drop Catsby home and have a bloody bath!' He gestures to the towel covering my body.

'Now, look here!' I retort angrily. 'You don't know what I…' Shit. What am I supposed to tell him?

'Yes. I'm waiting.' Sherlock crosses his arms and taps one foot against the wooden floor. Lost for words, I look down at the ground, clutching the towel tighter.

'Don't shout at her, Sherlock.' John scolds him and turns towards me. 'Now.' He smiles kindly. 'What happened earlier, eh?'

'Well I was on my way out the door, I swear!' I explain earnestly. 'But then I… W-well I…' I groan inwardly. This is not happening. Time to pull the PMS card. 'I…um..' John squints his eyes slightly, but remains quiet. Oh for god's sake Aud, just say it! He's a flipping doctor! 'Well you see it's my time of… Eh, I had…cramps.' I finish quietly. John's face reddens slightly, but he nods understandingly. 'Ah, I see.'

Sherlock, who had been silently fuming all this time, bursts out angrily. 'Well I certainly don't!'

'Oh my God! My period, Sherlock!' I shout at him in exasperation. 'You know, that thing women get every month.' I put my hands on my hips. 'Side effects include dizziness, nausea and muscle cramps.'

For once in his life, Sherlock seems at a loss for words.

'Ah..' He clears his throat. 'Right, I see.' He spins back around to face John and I. 'But you could have texted! How were we supposed to know you'd be… indisposed.'

I stare at him incredulously. 'Well in case you haven't noticed, I'm not actually from here. What? Did you think I could just "pause" being sucked into a book, grab my phone, and continue on my jolly way to Baker Street?' My voice has risen to an almost shout. Jesus, Aud. Maybe you are getting your period.

I let out a deep breath, un-flustering myself. 'Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to put some clothes on.' I turn on my heel and flounce from the sitting room with all the dignity a half-naked girl can muster. Flopping down on the cold, hard tiles, I cradle my head in my arms. What am I supposed to do? I can't tell them, it'll look suspicious.

I think back on Moriarty's farewell. 'Now, remember Princess, this is our secret.' He had whispered to me before letting me go. 'And don't you even think about tricking me.' He wagged his finger, grinning. 'I always know.'

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