A lot of you will be pleased to hear this:

I will be completing Tea Leaves with chapter 200.

A Business Proposition

Two months later

Sherlock was so close.

He wasn't going to let Jim slip through the cracks—John was at stake. And now, here, at Jim's…lair? Sherlock almost sneered—Jim would want him to call it a lair, the pretentious prick, and he wouldn't give him the satisfaction, even in his private thoughts—and now here, at Jim's hideout, as he quietly began disabling the lock, he could feel his fingers giving way to adrenaline-fueled trembling.

What does he want?

xXxXxXxXxXx

Sherlock had successfully broken her surveillance camera, so Seb had to watch him from afar—the rooftop across the street.

Dryly, she took a drag off her cigarette—something cheap she'd found in a drawer for emergency use—and watched him.

Can't believe Jim gets all puppy-dog over this chump. I would've disabled that lock two minutes ago. She blew smoke out of her nose. He's getting sloppy. He's afraid for the target, it's making him an idiot. The target, she had been told, was John Watson. She'd scoped him out weeks ago. She'd even gotten coffee at that little university coffee shop that he worked at. It had been pretty good coffee.

Sherlock stepped back in what looked like quiet satisfaction and slipped inside. Seb took another drag off her cigarette, turned on her dispatcher radio attached to her vest, and said, "He's in, boss. Waiting on you."

Silence, then static, then, "I can handle him just fine, Sebastiana. I'm ending this. Or he is. One of us is. Wait outside, I don't want you coming in. You've got to let the two of us appreciate teach other."

Seb looked at the radio disdainfully. Idiot with a death wish. God, I can't wait till my contract's up. "…All right, boss."

xXxXxXxXxXx

Jim settled back in his chair. The fireplace was lit up, not just for warmth but also for dramatic effect— no point of getting Sherlock all the way out here just to look small, not grand. Business propositions had to be done in style.

Quietly, he waited, keeping an eye on the many monitors that showed the various hallways and rooms lined with surveillance cameras.

Come get me or I'll get John Watson.

It was simple, straightforward— moreso than he liked, but he didn't have the desire to stage anything too elaborate and be met with lack of interest. Nor, really, was he particularly interested in kidnapping, killing, maiming, or otherwise harming John Watson, though he had to admit that the otherwise dull medical student was such a keen motivator. Jim didn't know what Sherlock saw in him, really; John didn't share the mental acuity that Jim and Sherlock did, so what was the point of keeping him around? What could the appeal possibly be? All Jim knew, really, was that Sherlock Holmes wouldn't respond to Jim's beckoning with the same vigor as he would with the threat of John Watson's wellbeing on the line.

Jim was impressed, though— for a threat and a challenge so vague, Sherlock had done plenty of work to get here. He'd done a year's worth of investigating in two months, really. It deserved Jim's approval, at the very least—Sherlock had gotten to Lithuania so much faster than Jim's other candidates.

When the door opened, Jim was ready for him.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Two months ago, John had presented the mobile to Lestrade with the opened phone. Two months ago the security detail had started— John had a police officer keeping an eye on the flat at all times, basically (he and Lestrade had both seen the Come get me or I'll get John Watson from the unknown sender).

One month ago, Lestrade had conceded, "He really doesn't want us to find him."

One week ago, Lestrade had pondered, "Maybe he wants you to find him."

One week ago, Lestrade had also angrily texted, "DON'T DO ANYTHING STUPID. I can't have 2 missing idiots on my hands."

John was exhausted.

Bean There kept him going as only the routines, noises, and smells of a coffee shop job could. The cafe transitioned its menu into its spring themed drinks and teas, it took down its plaid bows and its little evergreens that it kept up during the winter season, and it replaced them with potted vegetation— pretty purple bellflowers that John learned were actually the plants the Grimms based "Rapunzel" from, ferns, something with waxy leaves, daisies. Only the steadiness of Bean There comforted John, and even that was sometimes too much for it.

Mike Stamford got a girlfriend, and took more time in front of the counter now to sit with her. John didn't mind— working solo sometimes helped. In the rushes, when he was busily pulling shots and warming up pastries and socializing with customers and wiping up spills— he almost forgot about Sherlock.

Almost. Not quite.

xXxXxXxXxXx

John was used to Sherlock's phone ringing, or buzzing from texts. It sometimes woke him up during the night, and he'd sometimes glance over at the screen. It was never anything important, really— sales calls, or political surveys, or business numbers. Occasionally someone would call who was listed in Sherlock's phone, but never anyone that Sherlock knew.

It would occur to John in those times how little he did know about Sherlock, apparently.

He never picked up the phone or looked at the texts— it seemed rude of him to do so. He told himself in the first month that Sherlock would be so scandalized if John read his texts— he was often exceedingly private about them, and unless he showed John a specific text himself, rarely did he even pass his phone over to John. So, John reasoned, no excuse to break that trust.

In the second month, John didn't look at the phone or answer the texts because it would hurt too much to do so.

It was a Tuesday night. John was settling into bed. The mobile phone was on his nightstand, plugged in. The phone buzzed with a text, but he was too heartsore and tired to glance at it for more than a second.

Then his eyes flew open and he sat up quickly, hand darting out for the phone.

Plainly across the phone's screen, a text from an unknown number that simply read: John.

The prompts for this chapter were courtesy of:

Javien Deluke, with: cracks

samiam13, with: puppy dog

CrimsonDuchess, with: fireplace, vegetation

Merle, with: rapunzel, wax