It's warmer now. Danielle finally recovered from the embarrassment. Her injuries healed too without any scars. Felix and John took great care in that. John figured out very early that the best way to have Danielle healthy was Felix's help.

John only spoke to her over her health, and kept very quiet about the incidents over Christmas. She's grateful, really. It's better to act like nothing happened that week. Humiliated in front of all their friends by exposing her crushes, and another week later by Americans. The scandal of it all.

Danielle also saw Sherlock many times. She started speaking to him after the third visit. He spoke to her every time, but stopped looking in her direction.

The Woman never messaged her again. The phone was still in Sherlock's possession. The Woman wouldn't dare send obvious messages again.

Just one text message. A group text between herself, Sherlock, and a mysterious other number.

I'm not dead. Let's have dinner. The three of us.

There. Proof she was alive. Proof she came back. Danielle hadn't seen it, because the Americans came before she read that message. She defended that Woman, mourned her for a week. Sherlock mourned for a week, and identified the body. He was so hurt after that he lashed out at Danielle.

Now, what Sherlock did wasn't right. She's not so stupid to say that. It's just what he does when he's upset. Danielle took it personally because she too just lost the Woman. Both of them stayed very lost in that grief.

To find out it was fake? A con? A trick, one not even meant for them but everyone else? It's obscene. Even worse that the Woman picked a body to fool Sherlock. That's just not on.

So this is the mindset Danielle is in when she receives a text from John about their new client, and it's the Woman.

==MPH==

The Woman was wearing his dressing gown. The very same one that housed her phone so many weeks ago. She'd used their shower. Her brown hair was down, and much longer than Danielle expected.

Danielle lowered a cuppa.

The Woman smiled. "Thank you, but I don't need any."

"It's not for you." Danielle sat across from the Woman. She kept the tea for herself. It's pleasantly warm, and just the taste Danielle liked.

The Woman continued smiling. "You keep tea here?"

"Yes." Danielle watched her. Just watching, trying so very hard not to reveal anything. The Woman hurt Danielle so deeply, and so exactly. That's something she can forgive and forget. Hurting Sherlock, putting the residents of 221b in jeopardy? That's going to be harder. "I'm here often enough. Aren't I?"

The two men stood nearby, not saying a word. Each for their own silly reasons.

Sherlock observed. The Woman was leaning in, eyes sharp on Danielle. The redhead poorly disguised her interest. Danielle's blue eyes locked onto the Woman while her pink lips stayed in a tight disapproving line. She'd hate to hear it looked exactly like Mrs Nolan's. The Woman clearly flaunted her new status, dressed in Sherlock's clothes and any other false claims of ownership. Danielle did it by drinking her usual cuppa.

John watched. He tried to decide if it's with amusement or confusion. Amusement in trying to figure out who would fight who for a date, and figuring it'd be Sherlock. The confusion? Oh that's for trying to see if Danielle still messaged Irene. She admitted to having an interest in girls too, the same time Sherlock said he's married to his work. Well both of them are very clearly involved with Irene now.

"Even after the incident with the Americans." Danielle sipped at her tea. "Should I prepare for more guests?"

"I do apologize for those brutes." The Woman said. "I'd never have left such nasty marks on you."

Danielle smiled, as polite as anyone could dream. "I'll hold my breath."

"I'd make you love it." The Woman offered.

She laughed at that. Danielle missed these talks. The weird sort of flirting thing the Woman always did. Still, she's a client which means Danielle can't fall for it again. "Who's co- umm, Who's on their way?"

The Woman continued to grin. That flirty smile she never lost, even if her lips were a lighter shade of pink now. Danielle can recall the dark red with perfection. Fuck, why was the Woman always trying to seduce people? It'd give Danielle ideas. "People that want to kill me." The Woman replied.

Danielle glanced back at Sherlock. He stepped at her side, getting up from the couch. His presence only made the Woman smile brighter. Like she'd gotten just what she wanted.

"Who's that?" Sherlock asked.

"Killers."

"It would help if you were a tiny bit more specific." John suggested.

The Woman said nothing else. She eyed the mug Danielle kept bringing to her lips. Danielle pretended to ignore it.

"So you faked your own death in order to get ahead of them." Sherlock reasoned.

"It worked for a while." The Woman said.

"A week." Danielle supplied. "It worked for a week when you let John know who told us."

"I knew you'd keep my secret." The Woman said.

"You couldn't." Sherlock countered.

"But she did, didn't she?" The Woman said.

"I didn't even know until after." Danielle replied. More than a bit snidely.

"And you still did it." The Woman praised. She added another smile directed at Sherlock. "With himself coming in to save you. Oh, that must've felt excellent."

Danielle wanted to splash this tea in her face. Except it's not worth the wait for more tea.

"Where's my camera phone?" The Woman asked.

"It's not here. We're not stupid." John said.

"Then what have you done with it? If they've guessed you've got it, they'll be watching you." The Woman pointed out.

"If they've been watching me, they'll know that I took a safety deposit box at a bank on the Strand a few months ago." Sherlock replied.

"I need it." The Woman instructed them.

"Well, we can't just go and get it, can we?" John countered. "Molly Hooper. She could collect it, take it to Bart's; then one of your homeless network could bring it here, leave it in the café, and one of the boys downstairs could bring it up the back."

Sherlock smiled. "Very good, John. Excellent plan, with intelligent precautions."

"Thank you." John pulled out his phone. Sherlock reached for his pocket. "So, why don't...Oh, for-"

Sherlock held up the camera phone. Danielle hummed.

"Did you know?" John asked her.

Danielle hesitated. "Has he let you search his pockets for a month?" He always had John or Danielle grab something from his pockets. His phone, magnifying glass, something that he couldn't be bothered to do himself. Lately? He stopped asking. That, and as Danielle caught on, she realized he never reached for that one particular pocket. His usual phone pocket.

"So what do you keep on here-in general, I mean?" Sherlock asked.

"A picture of Danielle." The Woman replied.

Danielle blushed. "You had it for a few minutes. Maybe."

The Woman smiled wider. She showed off teeth, licking them. "And I loved those minutes."

Danielle needed to burn that phone. Burn it, and burn every memory of that picture ever existing. What had she been thinking? "What else is on the phone?"

"Pictures, information, anything I might find useful." The Woman replied.

"What, for blackmail?" John asked.

"For protection. I make my way in the world; I misbehave. I like to know people will be on my side exactly when I need them to be." The Woman explained.

"So how do you acquire this information?" Sherlock asked.

"I told you-I misbehave." The Woman grinned with promise.

"But you've acquired something that's more danger than protection. Do you know what it is?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes, but I don't understand it."

"I assumed. Show me." Sherlock instructed. The Woman reached for the phone, so he kept it from her reach. "The passcode."

The Woman kept her hand out. Danielle got the impression she'd not repeat herself. She even glanced at Danielle.

Danielle mulled it over. She's not sure why she was being looked at, but she could guess. "Pass it over."

Sherlock lowered the phone. The Woman accepted it. She typed in the passcode. The phone beeped.

"It's not working." The Woman said.

Sherlock snatched the phone away. "No, because it's a duplicate that I had made, into which you've just entered the numbers one oh five eight." He sat himself down in the third chair of the table. "I assumed you'd choose something more specific than that but, um, thanks anyway."

He typed in the new code. It failed as well. He gawked.

Danielle turned to John. He pointed at the chair. Danielle shrugged, apologetic. He'd not even let Danielle sit there for a month. It's the same chair she'd been tortured on. She figured it was either in the coat pocket or the chair. One was an obvious distraction.

If Danielle thought a little harder, usually she said it was probably both and he kept switching them out to keep anyone watching on their toes.

The Woman walked to him. "I told you that camera phone was my life. I know when it's in my hand."

"Oh, you're rather good." Sherlock praised her.

"You're not so bad." The Woman complimented.

Danielle pouted. She admitted that the Woman was good at what she did. That doesn't mean she had to like any of this. The Woman hurt Sherlock very deeply. Yet one fancy trick with a fake phone, and she's forgiven? It's absurd.

The Woman turned to Danielle. She continued to smirk, even winking at Danielle. "Neither are you."

Danielle tried to ignore it. Really she did. Except it made her heart thump, and her cheeks felt very warm. She looked at Sherlock. He was staring at Danielle too. That sent her over the edge. Her entire face went into flame. He wasn't chastising or glaring. The look from him could even be described as praise.

Fuck she missed Sherlock reacting to her compliments and praise. Any time she tried this year, her words got jumbled. Lestrade was watching. John was watching. Or even Molly Hooper. All of them saw the Christmas Catastrophe. So when she tried complimenting him, they all just gave her these looks so she never got to finish.

But now? Now Danielle had a golden opportunity.

"It's a very clever trick." She told him. "I didn't get it all the way."

"Yes you did." Sherlock had a brief flash of a smile. Danielle ended up smiling wide. He was looking at her, and that made everything feel so different. "It was quite good."

"Yeah?" Danielle could hardly believe it. She got it right? All of it? And Sherlock complemented her for it? Holy shit. Did she die? Or get hit on the head? It doesn't matter. She loved it.

"Yes."

"Hamish."

All three turned to John. He smiled at them, way too wide and way too excited.

"John Hamish Watson-just if you were looking for baby names." He added.

Danielle blushed for a different reason. She turned back to face the Woman. She pushed down any kind of good feelings or joy she briefly felt. "The-"

"What's your's?" The Woman asked.

Danielle hesitated.

"Your middle name. Go on." She asked.

"Where did you get the information?" Danielle asked instead.

"Her middle name is Edith. Where did it come from?" Sherlock revealed.

Danielle fumed. She hated that Sherlock found their birth certificates. Imagine the horror- coming back from walking her dog to Sherlock holding it up for her. He even said it. It's humiliating now, 'cause the certificate said her dad was David Nolan instead of Ian Moriarty.

"There was a man-an MOD official. I knew what he liked." The Woman answered. She stepped away from the table, hiding the phone screen. She typed in the password. The phone made the unlocking noise. The Woman held up the acquired information out to them.

"One of the things he liked was showing off. He told me this email was going to save the world. He didn't know it, but I photographed it." The Woman explained. "He was a bit tied up at the time. It's a bit small on that screen-can you read it?"

Sherlock accepted the phone. "Yes." Danielle tried to peek at the phone, but the text was incredibly small.

"A code, obviously. I had one of the best cryptographers in the country take a look at it-though he was mostly upside down, as I recall. Couldn't figure it out." The Woman replied.

Danielle squinted again at it.

"What can you do, Mr Holmes?" The Woman asked. "Go on. Impress the girls."

Danielle gave up. Sherlock wouldn't tilt the phone for her to see. She got back to her cup of tea. She took a sip, lowering it back to the table.

The Woman came close. She gave Sherlock the smallest peck on the cheek, turning to Danielle to give her one as well.

Danielle froze.

"There's a margin for error but I'm pretty sure there's a Seven Forty-Seven leaving Heathrow tomorrow at six thirty in the evening for Baltimore." Sherlock said very rapidly. "Apparently it's going to save the world. Not sure how that can be true but give me a moment; I've only been on the case for eight seconds."

Danielle was still frozen. She processed exactly zero of what he just said. In her defense, she was kissed by a dominatrix five seconds ago.

"Oh, come on. It's not code. These are seat allocations on a passenger jet. Look-" He turned the phone for Danielle and John to see.

Danielle was still on another planet.

"There's no letter 'I' because it can be mistaken for a '1'; no letters past 'K'-the width of the plane is the limit. The numbers always appear randomly and not in sequence but the letters have little runs of sequence all over the place-families and couples sitting together. Only a Jumbo is wide enough to need the letter 'K' or rows past fifty-five, which is why there's always an upstairs. There's a row thirteen, which eliminates the more superstitious airlines. Then there's the style of the flight number-zero zero seven-that eliminates a few more; and assuming a British point of origin, which would be logical considering the original source of the information and assuming from the increased pressure on you lately that the crisis is imminent, the only flight that matches all the criteria and departs within the week is the six thirty to Baltimore tomorrow evening from Heathrow Airport."

She tuned back maybe halfway through all of that. She got it was something about a plane.

Sherlock stood up. He handed the phone back to the Woman.

"Please don't feel obliged to tell me that was remarkable or amazing. John and Danielle have expressed the same thought in every possible variant available to the English language." Sherlock said.

"I would have you right here on this desk until you begged for mercy twice."

Danielle blushed because oh my god that sounded amazing. She left again for another planet, and this time it took her longer to come back.

"John, please can you check those flight schedules; see if I'm right?"

"Uh-huh. I'm on it, yeah. Danielle?"

Danielle was flying in a make believe land.

"Danielle?" John tried again.

"Hmm?" She turned to him. He nodded at the table. Danielle checked. Her cuppa was still there, but- oh. "Oh! Sorry." She lifted the cuppa away from the laptop. John took it back.

"I've never begged for mercy in my life." Sherlock told the Woman.

"Twice." The Woman taunted. "Three times with Danielle's help."

And she's out again. She managed to put the tea back down on the table.

"Don't worry." The Woman leaned in. "You'd be rewarded too."

Danielle cleared her throat. "I- I didn't do anything?"

"Not yet." The Woman winked at her.

Okay. Okay, she definitely hit her head on something.

"Uh, yeah, you're right. Uh, flight double oh seven." John said.

Sherlock snapped his head around to John. "What did you say?"

"You're right."

"No, no, no, after that. What did you say after that?" Sherlock asked.

"Double oh seven. Flight double oh seven." John repeated.

Sherlock concentrated again. "Double oh seven, double oh seven, double oh seven, double oh seven-" He pushed around the Woman. He paced 221b. "...something...something connected to double oh seven...What? Double oh seven, double oh seven, what, what, something, what?"

"Like-" Danielle gulped, pausing herself.

Sherlock turned to her. "What? Like what?"

"Like James Bond?" Danielle tried. "He's 007, isn't he?"

Sherlock said nothing. Instead, he looked over at the door. The front door. He said nothing else.

==MPH==

The fire was going. Sherlock sat at his usual chair, plucking at his violin while staring off at the distance. Danielle sat in her usual spot. She pulled her leg up on the chair, holding it close to her chest. She instead watched the firelight on his face.

This fucking man. He's made her insane. Her chemical defects were all over the place. Or however Sherlock said it that time. She couldn't help it. It's impossible when Sherlock looked that bloody good.

"It's incredible." The Woman noted. She was sitting in John's chair. "It's been hours."

Danielle bristled. "He's just like that."

"He never twitched. Not even when we had dinner." The Woman never looked away from Sherlock.

Danielle paused. She ordered the three of them a small meal earlier. Nothing crazy, just some takeaway. Sherlock stared off into the distance.

"He doesn't eat when he's on a case. Or in his mind palace." Danielle explained. The Woman raised an eyebrow at her. "It's what he calls it. When he's solving something complicated."

"Extraordinary." The Woman turned to Danielle. She smiled. In this setting, one can almost believe she's normal and thus is a normal hangout. "Do you have one?"

"No." Danielle held tighter to her leg.

"So how do you figure it out?" The Woman asked.

Danielle shrugged. "I don't know. Just- everyone's an idiot, so I just sort of...think what an idiot would do. And sometimes it's right."

"It's clever."

"You're trying to get something from me." Danielle replied. The Woman smiled wider. "Complimenting me isn't the way to get it."

"It worked last time." The Woman reminded her.

"Then you pretended to die for a week. Changed things." Danielle shot back.

The Woman shook her head. She kept on gazing at Danielle. It unsettled her. Because the Woman watched her the same as she looked at Sherlock. A person to beat, a victory just out of reach, a prize so close to her reach.

"Have you tried to unlock it?" The Woman asked.

Danielle snorted. "No. He never let that thing out of his reach. Besides, I don't have any good guesses."

"Coventry."

The two turned to Sherlock. He plucked another string on his violin.

The Woman curled more onto John's chair. "I've never been. Is it nice?"

Sherlock blinked, confused. "Where's John?" He asked Danielle.

"Out." Danielle answered.

"I was just talking to him." Sherlock replied.

"He said you do that." The Woman smiled, amused. She leaned in. "What's Coventry got to do with anything?"

"It's a story, probably not true." Sherlock said. "In the Second World War, the Allies knew that Coventry was going to get bombed because they'd broken the German code but they didn't want the Germans to know that they'd broken the code, so they let it happen anyway."

"Weirdly clever." Danielle mused. "I mean, bad for Coventry, but good for the Allies?"

"You don't know?"

"History class was my worst." She admitted. "I don't like it either. How do you remember it?"

Sherlock hummed. "Secret codes and puzzles. A way to occupy my mind as a child."

Danielle couldn't stop her grin. "Should've figured that. You probably hated Unsolved Mysteries."

"Terrible program." Sherlock confirmed. He loved the violin to its usual resting spot behind his chair. "Many of their suspects were useless, or purposeful brandishing for the broadcast. I wrote letters to the police of the true killers. Some were solved before they realized they were talking to a child-"

"Have you ever had anyone?"

Danielle blushed.

Sherlock blinked. "Sorry?"

The Woman kept on talking. "And when I say 'had,' I'm being indelicate."

"I don't understand."

"Well, I'll be delicate then." The Woman climbed over the foot rest. She knelt below Sherlock, reached her hand up to hold his. Her fingers tightened on it.

She blushed. She blushed and blushed.

"Let's have all dinner." The Woman offered.

"Why?"

She shrugged, locking eyes. "Might be hungry."

"I'm not. Neither is Danielle."

She grinned. "Good."

Sherlock leaned closer. Danielle could hardly make out their faces. Cast in shadow by firelight, and now just so close together. "Why would we want to have dinner if we weren't hungry?"

"Oh, Mr Holmes...if it was the end of the world, if this was the very last night, would you have dinner with us?" The Woman asked.

Yes, Danielle thought, she would.

"Sherlock!"

"Too late." The Woman mumbled. She pulled away.

"That's not the end of the world; that's Mrs Hudson." Sherlock countered. He glanced at Danielle.

She nodded. She went to the door. "Hello Mrs Hudson."

"Danielle! Oh hello." Mrs Hidson smiled cheerily. "There was a man at the door."

"The doorbell still doesn't work?" Danielle asked.

"No." Mrs Hudson turned to the guest. "He shot it."

Danielle nodded. He'd been bored and stressed that day.

Sherlock huffed. "Have you come to take us away again?"

"Yes, Mr Holmes."

"Well, I decline." Sherlock replied.

The guest reached in his pocket. He pulled out an envelope. Then he held it out to Danielle. She opened it. "I don't think you do."

Two tickets were inside. One for Sherlock, one for Danielle. Both listed for the 18:30 to Baltimore from Heathrow. Flight 007. Danielle showed Sherlock his ticket. He grinned.

The Woman watched them leave without a word.

==MPH==

AN: My partner has no idea what Irene Adler is so when I started bragging about the Irene/Danielle dialogue, they just said "uhhh that's gay."

Yeah they love Irene now. Imma fight a dominatrix to get my partner back, brb