A Study in Pink (Part 2)

(Open POV)

London...

Sherlock is standing on the edge of a rooftop looking down into the streets below as he searches for a glimpse of places where the case might have been hidden.

221B Baker Street...

"... and anywhere you could dispose of a bulky object without being observed." Sherlock said.

London...

Sherlock is back on the ground and rooting through a large skip in an alley before unearthing the case buried under some black plastic, then checking the luggage label attached to the handle.

(Jared's POV)

221B Baker Street...

"Took me less than an hour to find the right skip." Sherlock said.

"Pink. You got all that because you realised the case would be pink?" John asked.

"Well, it had to be pink. The suitcase I mean. 'A Study of Pink'. I said, smiling.

"Why didn't I think of that?" John asked, talking to himself.

"Because you're an idiot." Sherlock said, as John looks across to him, startled, while the consulting detective makes a placatory gesture with one hand. "No, no, no, don't look like that. Practically everyone is." He refolds his hands and then extends his index fingers to point at the case. "Now, look. Do you see what's missing?"

"From the case? How could I?"

"Her cell phone, John. Where's her cell phone? Well, there was no phone on her body or inside her suitcase. She had one with her number on the suitcase. People usually leave their number on their suitcase in case something happens to it. Like losing it. And you just texted her phone number on her suitcase." I said, sadly.

"Maybe she left it at home." John said.

Sherlock puts his hands onto the arms of the chair and raises himself up so that he can lower his feet to the floor, then sits down properly on the chair.

"She has a string of lovers and she's careful about it. She never leaves her phone at home." Sherlock said, putting the slip of paper back into the luggage label on the case and looks at John expectantly.

"Er ..." John said, looking down at his mobile phone which he has put onto the arm of his chair. "Why did I just send that text?"

"Well, where's her phone now?" I asked, walking around the iconic apartment.

"She could have lost it."

"Yes, she could have lost it. Or there's another outcome."

"The murderer ... You and Sherlock think the murderer has the phone?" John asked, slowly.

"Well, it couldn't have changed like it has back home. And I'm not influencing changes too much from what I've noticed." I said, looking at John. "This case has gone the same for the most part."

"I see. So you're helping things remain the same as you remember it. You both really think the murderer has the phone?"

"Maybe she left it when she left her case. Maybe he took it from her for some reason. Either way, the balance of probability is the murderer has her phone." Sherlock said

"Sorry, what are we doing? Did I just text a murderer?! What good will that do?" John asked, as if on cue, his phone begins to ring.

John picks it up and looks at the screen for the Caller I.D. It reads: (withheld) calling.

"It did a lot of good for us." I said, and John looked across to Sherlock and I as the phone continued to ring. "It helps us."

"Fair point. It did. A few hours after his last victim, and now he receives a text that can only be from her. If somebody had just found that phone they'd ignore a text like that, but the murderer ..." Sherlock said, pausing dramatically for a moment until the phone stops ringing. "... would panic."

Sherlock flips the lid of the suitcase closed and stands up, walking across the room to pick up his jacket. As John continues to stare down at his phone, Sherlock puts on his jacket while I zippered up my hoodie and the two of us walks towards the door.

"Have you talked to the police?" John asked, finally looking up.

"Four people are dead. There isn't time to talk to the police." Sherlock said.

"There really isn't enough time." I said, frowning. "The murderer would have killed more people by then."

"So why are the two of you talking to me?" John asked, as Sherlock reaches behind the door to take his greatcoat from the hook.

As Sherlock looks across towards John, he notices that something is missing from the mantelpiece, "Mrs Hudson took my skull."

"So I'm basically filling in for your skull?" John asked.

"Relax, you're doing fine." Sherlock said, putting on his coat.

"You're doing great." I said, and John doesn't move. "Really great."

"Am I basically filling in for Team RWBY too?" John asked.

"Nope. You're not. They're taking a break from being with me. Well..."

"Well what?"

"You could just sit there in this iconic apartment and watch K-On! on TV using DVDs. Amazing anime by the way. Pretty wholesome."

"What, you want me to come with you and Sherlock?" John asked, looking between Sherlock and I.

"I like company when I go out, and I think better when I talk aloud. Jared's the same, that's why he has a few of his friends on adventures when he is traveling with the Doctor. Anyway, the skull just attracts attention, so ..." Sherlock said, as John smiles briefly. "Problem?"

"Yeah, Sergeant Donovan." John said.

"What about her?" Sherlock asked, looking away in exasperation.

"She said ... You two get off on this. The both of you enjoy it." John said.

"And I said 'dangerous,' and here you are." Sherlock said, nonchalantly.

"That's what I told my friends whenever I try to protect them. Yet they want to come and help me." I said, and instantly Sherlock turns and walks out of the door with me. "Come on, John."

John sits there thoughtfully for a few seconds, then almost angrily leans onto his cane to push himself to his feet and head for the door, "Damn it!"

London...

Not long afterwards, John catches up to Sherlock and I in the street and we continue down the road.

"Where are we going?" John asked.

"Northumberland Street. It's only a five minute walk from here." I said, smiling. "That's where we're going."

"You think he's stupid enough to go there?" John asked.

"No – I think he's brilliant enough. I love the brilliant ones. They're always so desperate to get caught." Sherlock said, smiling expectantly.

"Why?" Sherlock asked.

"Appreciation! Applause! At long last the spotlight. That's the frailty of genius, John, Jared: it needs an audience."

"Yeah." John said, looking pointedly at Sherlock.

"I suppose that makes sense." I said, while Sherlock spins around to indicate the entire area as he continues down the road, oblivious to the implication. "So why did the serial killer choose this area?"

"I'll tell you why, Jared. This is his hunting ground, right here in the heart of the city. Now that we know his victims were abducted, that changes everything. Because all of his victims disappeared from busy streets, crowded places, but nobody saw them go." Sherlock said, holding up his hands up on either side of his head as if to focus his thoughts. "Think! Who do we trust, even though we don't know them? Who passes unnoticed wherever they go? Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?"

"Dunno. Who?" John asked.

"Haven't the faintest. Hungry?" Sherlock asked, shrugging.

"Yeah. I'm up for some Italian food!" I said, excitedly. "Spaghetti bolognese sounds nice."

"I know a place."

Italian restaurant...

Lowering his hands, Sherlock leads John and I onwards and into a small restaurant. The waiter near the door clearly knows him and gestures to a reserved table at the front window.

"Thank you, Billy." Sherlock said, taking off his coat and he sits down on the bench seat at the side of the table and immediately turns sideways so that he can see clearly out of the window. "Spaghetti bolognese. Why not penne alla vodka or fettuccine alfredo?"

"I'm not really feeling it today, Sherlock." I said, as Billy takes the 'Reserved' sign off the table, John sits down on the other bench seat with his back to the window, and takes off his jacket while I move a table and chair over to sit next to Sherlock Holmes. "So, what's the plan?"

"It's a simple one." Sherlock said, nodding to a building over the road. "Twenty-two Northumberland Street. Keep your eyes on it."

"He isn't just gonna ring the doorbell, though, is he? He'd need to be mad." John said.

"He has killed four people." I said, sadly. "He could go for a fifth any moment now."

"... Okay." John said.

The manager and/or owner of the restaurant comes over, clearly pleased to see Sherlock and I.

"Sherlock. Jared." Angelo said, while he shook hands with Sherlock first then he shook hands with me. "Anything on the menu, whatever you want, free." He lays a few menus on the table. "On the house, for the both of you. And for your date, Sherlock."

"Do you want to eat?" Sherlock asked, looking at John.

"I'm not Sherlock's date." John said, looking at Angelo.

"Sherlock Holmes got me off a murder charge." Angelo said.

"This is Angelo." Sherlock said, as Angelo offers his hand to John, who shakes it. "Three years ago I successfully proved to Lestrade at the time of a particularly vicious triple murder that Angelo was in a completely different part of town, house-breaking."

"He cleared my name." Angelo said, looking at John.

"I cleared it a bit. Anything happening opposite?"

"Nothing." Angelo said, looking at John again. "But for this man, I'd have gone to prison."

"You did go to prison." Sherlock said.

"I also helped Angelo get out of financial debt." I said, looking at John. "Oh. Can you get a candle for Sherlock and John's side of the table? Make it a bit more romantic for them."

"Ugh! Jared! Stop it! I'm not his date!" John said, indignantly looking at me as Angelo walks away.

Sherlock puts his own menu down onto the table, "The both of you may as well eat. We might have a long wait."

Angelo comes back with a small glass bowl containing a lit tea-light. He puts it onto the table and gives John a thumbs-up before turning and walking away again.

"Thanks!" John said, a little techily.

I took out my phone and called Shirai Kuroko off of it.

"Shirai?" I asked, my phone near my ear. "Are you able to get to this address soon?"

"London?" Shirai asked, her voice coming out of my phone. "Are you with Sherlock Holmes and John Watson?"

"Yeah. John is going to leave something behind here. It's a cane. Should be by the window seat. I want you to pick it up for me."

"Let me guess. A chase scene around London. Okay. Where should I drop it off at?"

"221B Baker Street."

"Baker Street? I understand. I'll be on standby in the meantime." Shirai said, ending the phone call with me. "Send me a text so I can get it for you. Curfew hasn't happened yet."

Later, John has a plate of food in front of him and is eating from it. I am eating my plate of spaghetti bolognese. Sherlock's attention is fixed out of the window and he is quietly drumming his fingers on the table.

"People don't have arch-enemies." John said.

It takes a moment but Sherlock finally looks round.

"I'm sorry?" Sherlock asked.

"In real life. There are no arch-enemies in real life. Doesn't happen." John said.

"Doesn't it? Sounds a bit dull." Sherlock said, disinterestedly, looking out of the window.

"So who did I meet? Jared, do you know?"

"Yeah." I said, drinking some Coke. "I do."

"Will you tell me?"

"Spoilers."

"In other words, you won't tell me."

"Nope."

"Since Jared won't tell you due to me not liking the person you're talking about. What do real people have, then, in their 'real lives'?" Sherlock asked.

"Friends; people they know; people they like; people they don't like ... Girlfriends, boyfriends ..." John said.

"Yes, well, as I was saying – dull."

"You don't have a girlfriend, then?"

"Girlfriend? No, not really my area." Sherlock said, still looking out of the window.

"Mm." John said, as a moment passes before he realises the possible significance of this statement. "Oh, right. D'you have a boyfriend?" Sherlock looks round at him sharply. "Which is fine, by the way."

"I know it's fine." Sherlock said.

John smiles to indicate that he wasn't signifying anything negative by what he said, "So you've got a boyfriend then?"

"No."

"Right." John said, still smiling, though his smile is becoming a little fixed and awkward. "Okay. You're unattached. Like me." He looks down at his plate, apparently rapidly running out of things to say. "Fine." The blonde clears his throat. "Good."

"Shirai is on it. So you don't have to call Angelo to do you know what." I said, while John and I continued eating. "You know how Shirai is."

"Professional when she needs to be." Sherlock said, as he looks at John suspiciously for a moment but then turns his attention out of the window again. "I can see why you like her."

"She's a good person." I said, and Sherlock appears to replay John's statement in his head and looks a little startled. "That's why I like her, Mikoto, Uiharu, and Saten."

Turning his head towards John again, Sherlock starts speaking rather awkwardly but rapidly speeds up and is almost babbling by the time John interrupts him, "John, um ... I think you should know that I consider myself married to my work, and while I'm flattered by your interest, I'm really not looking for any ..."

"No." John said, interrupting Sherlock before he turns his head briefly to clear his throat. "No, I'm not asking. No." He fixes his gaze onto Sherlock's, apparently trying to convey his sincerity. "I'm just saying, it's all fine."

Sherlock looks at John for a moment, then nods, "Good. Thank you."

"Ooo, Sherlock is admitting he likes John." I said, while Sherlock turns his attention back to the street. "How romantic."

John looks away with an bemused expression on his face as if asking himself, 'What the heck was all that about?!'. Just then, Sherlock nods out of the window.

"Look across the street. Taxi." Sherlock said, as John twists in his seat to look out of the window where a taxi has parked at the side of the road with its back end towards the restaurant. "Stopped. Nobody getting in, and nobody getting out."

In the rear seat of the taxi, the male passenger is looking through the side windows as if trying to see somebody particular.

"Why a taxi? Oh, that's clever. Is it clever? Why is it clever?" Sherlock asked, talking to himself.

"That's him?" John asked.

"Don't stare." I said, looking at the driver of the taxi.

"You're staring." John said, looking at me.

"The three of us can't stare." Sherlock said, getting to his feet, he grabs his coat and scarf and heads for the door with me behind him.

John picks up his own jacket and follows Sherlock and I ... completely forgetting to take his walking cane with him. Outside the door, Sherlock shrugs himself into his coat while he and I are keeping our eyes fixed on the taxi.

"I don't know if I want to do this chase." I said, as the passenger continues to look around him, then turns and looks out the back window. "I'd rather be at Baker Street now."

"Then you can meet us there." Sherlock said, and the passenger's gaze falls on the restaurant and he looks at it for a few moments while the consulting detective stares back at him, then the man turns towards the front of the vehicle and the taxi begins to pull away from the kerb. "You know the time space coordinates, don't you?"

"Yeah." I said, while Sherlock and I immediately heads towards the taxi without bothering to check the road that we're running into and was almost run over by a car coming from our left. "Crap."

The driver slams on the brakes and stops the car but Sherlock, always keen to take the quickest route, allows his forward impetus to carry him onto the top of the bonnet. He rolls over the bonnet, lands on his feet on the other side and then runs after the taxi. As the driver of the car angrily sounds his horn, John puts one hand on the bonnet and vaults over the front of the car, apologising to the driver as he goes with me behind him.

"Sorry." John said, as he and I chases after Sherlock, who runs a few yards up the road before realising that he's not going to catch the taxi and slows to a halt. "Why are you copying Sherlock?"

"Was I not supposed to?" I asked, looking at John.

"No. Because that was reckless." John said, while he catches up with me behind him and we stop beside Sherlock. "I've got the cab number."

"Good for you." Sherlock said, bringing his hands up to either side of his head and concentrates, calling up a mental map of the local area and overlaying it with images of the streets along the route which he calculates that the taxi must take while talking in a quick fire pace. "Right turn, one way, roadworks, traffic lights, bus lane, pedestrian crossing, left turn only, traffic lights."

I typed in coordinates into my vortex manipulator before disappearing in a flash of light, knowing that catching up to the serial killer would make the night feel longer than it actually is.

221B Baker Street...

I reappeared in a flash of light and I am pretty satisfied with how this day is going so far. I then texted Shirai Kuroko to pick up my spaghetti bolognese and John's cane from the Italian restaurant. The boys have arrived back and walk along the hallway, breathing heavily. John hangs his jacket on a hook on the wall while Sherlock drapes his coat over the bottom of the bannisters.

"Okay, that was ridiculous." John said, while they lean side by side against the wall, still trying to catch their breath. "That was the most ridiculous thing I've ever done."

"And you invaded Afghanistan." Sherlock said.

John giggles adorably and after a moment Sherlock and I also begin to laugh, "That wasn't just me."

"We know." I said, while Sherlock chuckles. "You were a soldier, so you didn't have only a troop."

"Why aren't we back at the restaurant?" John asked.

"Oh, they can keep an eye out. It was a long shot anyway." Sherlock said, becoming more serious and waving his hands dismissively.

"So what were we doing there?" John asked.

Sherlock clears his throat.

"Oh, just passing the time." Sherlock said, looking at John. "And proving a point."

"What point?"

"You." Sherlock said, turning and calls loudly towards the door to Mrs Hudson's ground floor flat. "Mrs Hudson! Doctor Watson will take the room upstairs."

"Says who?"

"Says the upper class middle school girl at the door." I said, looking towards the front door.

John turns his head towards the door just as someone knocks on it three times. He turns back to look at me in surprise. I smile. John stares at me for a moment, then walks along the hall to answer the door. Sherlock leans his head against the wall and blows out a breath. John opens the door and finds Shirai Kuroko standing outside.

"Jared texted me. I'm a friend of his. Shirai Kuroko." Shirai said, smiling and holding up John's walking cane. "He said you forgot this."

John stares at the cane in surprise, then takes it.

"Ah." John said, turning and looking down the hall to me, who grins at him. "How did you get here so quickly?"

"My ability is teleportation." Shirai said, happily. "Comes in handy for my work with Judgement."

"Er, thank you. Thank you." John said, turning back to Shirai.

"You're welcome." Shirai said, looking at me. "Can't let sissy destroy Academy City. Call me if you need me."

"I will." I said, while John comes back in and closes the door. "See ya, Shirai."

Mrs Hudson comes out of her flat and hurries over to the boys and I.

Mrs Hudson sounds upset and tearful as she speaks, "Sherlock, what have you done?"

"Mrs Hudson?" Sherlock asked.

"Upstairs." Mrs Hudson said, while Sherlock turns and hurries up the stairs, John and I following him.

"Son of a..." I said, as Sherlock opens the living room door and goes inside, where he finds D.I. Lestrade sitting casually in the armchair facing the door. "I forgot about this, honestly. Sorry."

Other police officers are going through Sherlock's possessions.

Sherlock storms over to Lestrade, "What are you doing?"

"Well, I knew you'd find the case. I'm not stupid." Lestrade said.

"You can't just break into my flat." Sherlock said.

"And you can't withhold evidence. And I didn't break into your flat."

"Well, what do you call this then?"

"It's a drugs bust." Lestrade said, looking round at his officers before looking back to Sherlock innocently.

"Seriously?! This guy, Sherlock Holmes, a junkie?! Have you met him?!" John exclaimed.

Sherlock turns and walks closer to John and I, biting his lip nervously, "John ..."

"I'm pretty sure you could search this flat all day, you wouldn't find anything you could call recreational." John said, looking at Lestrade.

"John, you should shut up now. You're making this worse for Sherlock. Just look at him." I said, sadly.

"Jared's right. John, you probably want to shut up now." Sherlock said, frowning.

"Yeah, but come on ..." John said, as he looks into Sherlock's eyes.

Sherlock holds his gaze for a long moment and John falls deeply and instantly in love realises how serious he's looking.

"No." John said.

"What?" Sherlock asked.

"You?"

"Shut up!" Sherlock said, angrily, before turning back to Lestrade. "I'm not your sniffer dog."

"No, Anderson's my sniffer dog." Lestrade said, nodding towards the kitchen.

"What, An..." Sherlock said, and the closed doors to the kitchen slide open and reveal several more officers in there searching through the room.

Anderson turns towards the living room and raises his hand in sarcastic greeting.

"Anderson, what are you doing here on a drugs bust?" Sherlock asked, angrily.

"Oh, I volunteered." Anderson said, venomously.

Sherlock turns away, biting his lip angrily.

"They all did. They're not strictly speaking on the drugs squad, but they're very keen." Lestrade said.

Donovan comes into view from the kitchen, holding a small glass jar with some white round objects in it, "Are these human eyes?"

"Put those back!" Sherlock said, angrily.

"They were in the microwave!" Donovan said.

"It's an experiment."

"Keep looking, guys." Lestrade said, standing up and turns to Sherlock. "Or you could help us properly and I'll stand them down."

"This is childish." Sherlock said, pacing angrily.

"Well, I'm dealing with a child. Sherlock, this is our case. I'm letting you in, but you do not go off on your own. At least Jared is smart enough to come back here to not get as involved as you, so he's in the clear. Clear?"

"Oh, what, so-so-so you set up a pretend drugs bust to bully me yet Jared is an exception?" Sherlock asked, stopping and glaring at Lestrade.

"It stops being pretend if they find anything."

"I am clean!" Sherlock said, loudly.

"Is your flat? All of it?"

"I don't even smoke." Sherlock said, unbuttoning the cuff of his left shirt and pulls it up to show a nicotine patch on his lower arm.

"Of course you don't smoke, Sherlock." I said, as I know Sherlock removed the other two earlier. "What about you, Greg?"

"Neither do I." Lestrade said, pulling up the right sleeves of his own jacket and shirt to show a similar patch on his arm. Sherlock rolls his eyes and turns away and they both pull their sleeves back down again. "So let's work together. We've found Rachel."

"Who is she?" Sherlock asked, turning back to Lestrade.

"Rachel is Jennifer Wilson's only daughter." I said, letting out a sigh.

"Her daughter? Why would she write her daughter's name? Why?" Sherlock asked, frowning.

"Never mind that. We found the case." Anderson said, pointing to the pink suitcase in the living room. "According to someone, the murderer has the case, and we found it in the hands of our favorite psychopath."

"I'm not a psychopath, Anderson." Sherlock said, looking at Anderson disparagingly. "I'm a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research." He turns back to Lestrade. "You need to bring Rachel in. You need to question her. I need to question her."

"Greg can't question Rachel because she's dead." I said, looking down at the ground.

"Excellent!" Sherlock said, as John looks startled and the consulting detective looks at Lestrade. "How, when and why? Is there a connection? There has to be. We can't ask Jared for the answer in fear of making things worse."

"Well, I doubt it, if there is a connection, since she's been dead for fourteen years. Technically she was never alive. Rachel was Jennifer Wilson's stillborn daughter, fourteen years ago." Lestrade said, and John and I grimaced sadly and the two of us turned away.

Sherlock, on the other hand, just looks confused, "No, that's ... that's not right. How ... Why would she do that? Why?"

"Why would she think of her daughter in her last moments?! Yup – sociopath; I'm seeing it now." Anderson said.

"She didn't think about her daughter." Sherlock said, turning to Anderson with an exasperated look on his face. "She scratched her name on the floor with her fingernails. She was dying. It took effort. It would have hurt."

"Yeah. It would have." I said, as Sherlock began to pace back and forth across the room again. "She was giving us a message about the serial killer."

"Sherlock, you said that the victims all took the poison themselves, that he makes them take it. Well, maybe he ... I don't know, talks to them? Maybe he used the death of her daughter somehow." John said.

"Yeah, but that was ages ago. Why would she still be upset?" Sherlock asked, stopping and turning to John.

"That's because she's no longer grieving over her late daughter." I said, and John and I stare at Sherlock. "That deduction was um..."

Sherlock hesitates when he realises that everyone in the flat, including me has stopped what they're doing and has fallen silent.

Sherlock glances around the room and then looks awkwardly at John and I, "Not good?"

"Bit not good, yeah." John said, also glancing around at the others and I before turning back to Sherlock.

"It wasn't the best deduction yet." I said, while Sherlock shakes it off and steps closer to John, looking at him intently.

"Yeah, but if you were dying ... if you'd been murdered: in your very last few seconds what would you say?" Sherlock asked, looking at John.

"'Please, God, let me live.'" John said.

"Oh, use your imagination!" Sherlock said, exasperated.

"I don't have to." John said, as Sherlock seems to recognise the look of pain in the blonde's face.

Sherlock pauses momentarily and blinks a couple of times, shifting his feet apologetically before continuing.

"Yeah, but if you were clever, really clever ... Jennifer Wilson running all those lovers: she was clever." Sherlock said, as he starts to pace again. "She's trying to tell us something."

Mrs Hudson comes to the door of the living room, "Isn't the doorbell working? Your taxi's here, Sherlock."

"I didn't order a taxi. Go away." Sherlock said, continuing pacing as Mrs Hudson looks around the room.

"Oh, dear. They're making such a mess. What are they looking for?" Mrs Hudson asked.

"It's a drugs bust, Mrs Hudson." John said.

"But they're just for my hip. They're herbal soothers." Mrs Hudson said, anxiously.

With his back to the door, Sherlock stops and shouts out.

"Shut up, everybody, shut up! Don't move, don't speak, don't breathe. I'm trying to think. Anderson, face the other way. You're putting me off." Sherlock said.

"What? My face is?!" Anderson exclaimed.

"Everybody quiet and still. Anderson, turn your back." Lestrade said.

"Oh, for God's sake!"

"Anderson, shut up, and turn your back. Please!" I said, sternly.

"Come on, think. Quick!" Sherlock said, talking to himself.

"What about your taxi?" Mrs Hudson asked.

"MRS HUDSON!" Sherlock said, turning to Mrs Hudson and shouting furiously.

Mrs Hudson turns and hurries away down the stairs. Sherlock stops and looks around as he finally realises something.

"Oh." Sherlock said, smiling in delight. "Ah! She was clever, clever, yes!" He walks across the room and then turns back to the others and I. "She's cleverer than you lot and she's dead. Do you see, do you get it? She didn't lose her phone, she never lost it. She planted it on him." Sherlock starts pacing again. "When she got out of the car, she knew that she was going to her death. She left the phone in order to lead us to her killer."

"But how?" Lestrade asked.

"Wha...? What do you mean, how?" Sherlock asked, stopping and staring at Lestrade who shrugs. "Rachel!" He looks at everyone, including me, triumphantly. They all look back at him blankly as I looked at Sherlock with a smile on my face. "Don't you see? Rachel!"

"Yup. It's Rachel." I said, while everyone looks blank still. "Took you long enough, Sherlock."

"I'm sorry it took me a while to figure it out." Sherlock said, laughing in disbelief. "Oh, look at you lot. You're all so vacant. Is it nice not being me? It must be so relaxing."

"Well, Rachel isn't a name." I said, more sternly. "I know what it meant. I knew the whole time. I didn't want to tell Sherlock because it would take the fun out of if for him."

"Then what is it? If Rachel isn't a name." John said, equally sternly.

"John, on the luggage, there's a tag. With an e-mail address." I said, frowning. "Read it aloud to us."

John looks at the label on the suitcase and reads out the address, "Er, jennie dot pink at mephone dot org dot uk."

Sherlock has sat down at the dining table and is looking at his computer notebook, "Oh, I've been too slow. She didn't have a laptop, which means she did her business on her phone, so it's a smartphone, it's e-mail enabled."

Sherlock has pulled up Mephone's website and types the email address into the 'User name' box.

"So there was a website for her account. The username is her e-mail address ..." Sherlock said, while he begins to type into the 'Password' box. " ... and all together now, the password is?"

"Rachel." John said, walking over to stand behind Sherlock.

"So we can read her e-mails. So what?" Anderson asked.

"Anderson, don't talk out loud. You lower the I.Q. of the whole street. We can do much more than just read her e-mails. It's a smartphone, it's got GPS, which means if you lose it you can locate it online. She's leading us directly to the man who killed her." Sherlock said.

"Unless he got rid of it." Lestrade said.

"We know he didn't." John said.

"Because this is the equivalent of a Tile or an Apple AirTag years before either of them came out." I said as Sherlock looked at the screen impatiently. "He doesn't know he is being tracked."

"Come on, come on. Quickly!" Sherlock said, annoyed.

Mrs Hudson trots up the stairs and comes to the door again, "Sherlock, dear. This taxi driver ..."

Sherlock gets to his feet and walks over towards Mrs Hudson, "Mrs Hudson, isn't it time for your evening soother?"

John sits down on the chair which Sherlock vacated and watches a clock spinning round on the website as it claims that the phone will be located in under three minutes.

"God, if only Find My existed back then." I said, and I turned to look at Lestrade. "I forgot that this is 2010. Not 2023. Greg, we need to get police cars over there. As soon as possible. If you need to, get a helicopter." Mrs Hudson looks around anxiously as a man walks slowly up the stairs behind her. "We need to move fast. Jennifer Wilson's phone battery won't last forever."

"We'll just have a map reference, not a name." Lestrade said, looking at me.

"Well, it's better than nothing. And having a location is a start, Greg. Let's not give up now!"

On the computer, a map has appeared and is now zooming in on the location of the phone.

"Sherlock ..." John said.

"Jared's right. It narrows it down from just anyone in London. It's the first proper lead that we've had." Sherlock said, looking at Lestrade.

"Sherlock ..."

"What is it? Quickly, where?" Sherlock asked, hurrying across the room to look over John's shoulder.

The map is now indicating the precise location of the phone.

"It's here. It's in two two one Baker Street." John said.

"How can it be here? How?" Sherlock asked, straightening up.

"Well, maybe it was in the case when you brought it back and it fell out somewhere." Lestrade said.

"What, and I didn't notice it? Me? I didn't notice?"

"Well, we texted the serial killer and he called us back on Jennifer Wilson's phone." I said, looking at Lestrade.

Lestrade turns to call out to his colleagues, "Guys, we're also looking for a mobile somewhere here, belonged to the victim ..."

"So, what do you think of Shirai Kuroko?" I asked, looking at John. "Who does she remind you of?"

Behind Mrs Hudson, the man has reached the top of the stairs. Wearing a cardigan and with a cap on his head obscuring his face, he has a badge in a leather holder on a cord around his neck. The badge is for a licenced London cab driver.

"She does not remind you of me. What is she truly like?" John asked, walking over to me. "Shirai. I mean."

Sherlock stands lost in thought in the flat.

"She knows when to be kind or serious. But she's perverted towards her roommate." I said, smiling. "But she truly does care about Mikoto Misaka. Academy City Level 5's Railgun."

In the flat, Sherlock turns, his mind racing as he puts all the clues together.

"Shirai is the roommate of Mikoto Misaka." I said, smiling. "And Shirai wanted to be the roommate of her. Because Mikoto is similar to Sherlock without the tsundere traits.."

Sherlock turns his head, still putting it all together. On the landing, the taxi driver takes a pink smartphone from his pocket and presses the screen to send a text. A moment later, Sherlock's own phone chimes a text alert. Taking his phone from his jacket pocket he looks at the message which simply reads: COME WITH ME. As he turns his head towards the door, the taxi driver turns around and calmly heads off down the stairs.

"Sherlock, you okay?" John asked.

"What? Yeah, yeah, I-I'm fine." Sherlock said, vaguely, watching the man go.

"So, how can the phone be here?"

"Dunno." Sherlock said, still watching the taxi driver.

"I'll try it again." John said, getting up to get his own phone out of his jeans pocket.

"Good idea." Sherlock said, heading towards the door.

"Where are you going?" John asked.

"Fresh air. Just popping outside for a moment. Won't be long." Sherlock said.

"Sherlock, let me give you a hug." I said, walking over to Sherlock to give him a hug while placing an Apple AirTag inside his pocket. "You're good to go."

"AirTag?" Sherlock asked, letting go of me as John frowns. "So in case the phone dies..."

"We'll still be able to find you. Yeah." I said, as Sherlock leaves the room with John calling after him. "Good luck, Sherlock. If things go wrong, Shirai is on standby for us. I recapped this entire case to her."

"Thank you."

"You sure you're all right?" John asked, looking at Sherlock.

"I'm fine." Sherlock said, hurrying down the stairs.

"What did you tell Sherlock?" John asked, looking at me.

"That Shirai is on standby." I said, smiling.

"Is that your backup plan? Putting a girl I barely know on standby?"

"Shirai is trustworthy. Like Greg Lestrade."

"I'm trustworthy." Lestrade said, laughing a little. "Blimey! I never expected that."

"How much faith do you have in him anyway?" Donovan asked.

"A lot to last me a decade." I said, while John walked towards the window.

"A whole decade? Do you trust him that much?"

"I do. He reminds me so much of the Doctor. My Doctor."

"Doctor Who?"

"Is the phone here or not?" Lestrade asked.

"It's here. For now." I said, sadly. "We have a backup plan just in case."

"A backup plan? What backup plan?"

"Placing an Apple AirTag on Sherlock."

"An Apple AirTag? What's that?"

"It's a tracking device. Very small and hidden. Doesn't come out for 11 years."

"So we're relying on a device that won't come out for 11 years and a phone that came out a couple years ago." Lestrade said, annoyed. "That's beyond useless. We still don't know the killer's name."

"That is true. But we'll know it eventually."

Upstairs, John has his phone held to his ear and is looking out of the window. The cab can be heard as it pulls away.

"He just got in a cab." John said, as he turns to Lestrade. "It's Sherlock. He just drove off in a cab."

Donovan, standing beside Lestrade, tuts in irritation.

"I told you, he does that." Donovan said, turning to Lestrade. "He bloody left again." She walks back into the kitchen, talking loudly. "We're wasting our time!"

"I'm calling the phone. It's ringing out." John said, looking at Lestrade.

"I'm doing the same for the AirTag." I said, tapping the Play Sound button for the Apple AirTag on the Find My application. "I know that Sherlock is safe for now. An AirTag's battery lasts for a year."

In the cab, a phone and the Apple AirTag are ringing. Sherlock watches Jeff as the pink phone – which Jeff has put in the well beside his seat – while the Apple AirTag inside Sherlock's pocket - with both devices continuing to ring.

"A year is a long time for a tracker. A lot longer than a mobile phone." John said, looking at me.

Back in the flat, Lestrade watches John as he continues to hold his phone to his ear.

"If the phone is ringing, it's not here. We know that AirTag is with Sherlock." Lestrade said.

John lowers his phone and reaches for the computer notebook, "I'll try the search again."

Donovan comes back to confront Lestrade.

"Does it matter? Does any of it? You know, he's just a lunatic, and he'll always let you down, and you're wasting your time. All our time." Donovan said.

Lestrade stares at Donovan for a long moment as she holds his gaze, then he sighs.

"Okay, everybody. Done 'ere." Lestrade said, loudly. "So, how does this Apple AirTag work?"

"It's a tracker. Phones, laptops, watches, headphones, and tablets all have trackers in the future." I said, happily. "I have one inside my backpack. Mostly because I need it."

"It's in case you lose it."

"Yeah. If this was 2023, the serial killer would notice the AirTag. But since it is 2010..."

"He won't notice it at all. Is this because the iPhones of the future are more powerful?"

"Yup. This is one of the cases where in case things go wrong, the AirTag will constantly update."

"I see. So the AirTag is our last resort. Can it track Sherlock?"

"It can. In real time. I don't want us to catch him yet."

"Why not? Do you want his blood on your hands?"

"He won't die. I promise." I said, looking down at my iPhone 12 Mini.

"You can't promise me that, Jared." Lestrade said, sadly.

As the other police officers leave, Lestrade picks up his coat and turns to John and I.

"Why did he do that? Why did he have to leave?" Lestrade asked.

"You know him better than I do." John said, shrugging.

"I've known him for five years and no, I don't."

"So why do you put up with him?"

"Because I'm desperate, that's why." Lestrade said, walking to the door, then turns back. "And because Sherlock Holmes is a great man. And I think one day, if we're very, very lucky, he might even be a good one. Jared, will he become a good man?"

"Spoilers. I'm sorry, but that day won't come for a couple years." I said, when Lestrade turns and leaves. "You'll have to take the long way around."

"What do you mean by the long way around?" John asked, looking at me. "Sherlock Holmes became a good man. When will that be?"

"On the most important day of your life." I said, sadly.

"And what day is that?"

"You know. A special day."

"My wedding day? Me getting married?"

"I'm not confirming or denying it. I just said that it is the most important day of your life."

"That's helpful. Very helpful."

John and I are alone in the flat.

"John, go home. I'll talk to you later." I said, walking up to John for a hug. "Remember to keep an eye on the tracker."

"Alright. I will." John said, walking out of the room.

I typed in the coordinates into my vortex manipulator for the Roland-Kerr College, knowing that Sherlock Holmes will end up there. Mostly because my Apple AirTag updated the location quicker than the 2010 smartphone.

I then teleported away in a flash of blue light away from 221B Baker Street to appear after the cab driver has been killed by John Watson with Sherlock Holmes saved too.

Roland-Kerr College...

I appeared outside of the college in a flash of blue light to see Sherlock sitting on the back steps of an ambulance.

"Why did you arrive later?" Sherlock asked, tossing me the Apple AirTag which I placed inside my pocket. "Is there any reason?"

"It's so I don't mess up the timeline too much." I said, while a paramedic puts an orange blanket around Sherlock's shoulders as Lestrade walks over. "I did that so the person that would save you, saved you."

"I see." Sherlock said, gesturing to the blanket. "Why have I got this blanket? They keep putting this blanket on me."

"Well, it's for the shock, Sherlock."

"I'm not in shock."

"Yeah, but some of the guys wanna take photographs." Lestrade said, grinning.

Sherlock rolls his eyes, "So, the shooter. No sign?"

"Cleared off before we got 'ere. But a guy like that would have had enemies, I suppose. One of them could have been following him but ..." Lestrade said, shrugging. "... got nothing to go on."

Sherlock looks at Lestrade pointedly, "Oh, I wouldn't say that."

Now it's Lestrade's turn to roll his eyes, "Okay, gimme."

"The bullet they just dug out of the wall's from a hand gun. Kill shot over that distance from that kind of a weapon – that's a crack shot you're looking for, but not just a marksman; a fighter. His hands couldn't have shaken at all, so clearly he's acclimatised to violence. He didn't fire until I was in immediate danger, though, so strong moral principle. You're looking for a man probably with a history of military service ..." Sherlock said, standing up and while he's talking, he turns his head to look around the area and sees John standing some distance away behind the police tape. "... and nerves of steel ..."

"Shut up..." I said, as Sherlock trails off as John looks back at him innocently and then turns his head away, the consulting detective clearly begins to realise the connection. "It's nothing."

"Yes. It's nothing." Sherlock said, and Lestrade turns to follow his gaze and the consulting detective turns back to him before he can start to ask questions. "Actually, do you know what? Ignore me."

"Sorry?" Lestrade asked.

"Ignore all of that. It's just the, er, the shock talking." Sherlock said, while him and I starts to walk towards John.

"Totally the shock!" I said, excitedly.

"Where're the two of you going?" Lestrade asked, looking at Sherlock and I.

"I just need to talk about the-the rent." Sherlock said.

"And I need to talk about anime." I said, smiling.

"But I've still got questions for you two." Lestrade said.

"Oh, what now? I'm in shock! Look, I've got a blanket!" Sherlock said, turning back to Lestrade in irritation.

"Sherlock is in the most shock he'll ever get!" I said, brandishing the sides of Sherlock's blanket as if to prove it:

"Sherlock! Jared!" Lestrade said, angrily.

"And I just caught you a serial killer ... more or less." Sherlock said.

"With my help, of course." I said, walking behind Sherlock. "He couldn't have done it without my guidance."

Lestrade looks at Sherlock and I thoughtfully for a moment, "Okay. We'll bring you both in tomorrow. Sherlock, Jared, Off you go."

"You like Lestrade, don't you?" Sherlock asked, as him and I walked away. "Do you want to tell me the reasons why?"

"He's a good person." I said, and Lestrade smiles as he watches Sherlock and I go. "As good as you."

"Thank you." Sherlock said, taking the blanket from around his shoulders, he bundles it up as he approaches John, who is standing at the side of a police car. "You're going to stay grounded in London then. For how long?"

"Until some point in 2011. With a brief pit stop to the city of Townsville." I said, while Sherlock tosses the blanket through the open window of the car and he and I ducked under the police tape. "This is the start of something beautiful, Sherlock."

"Um, Sergeant Donovan's just been explaining everything, the two pills. Been a dreadful business, hasn't it? Dreadful." John said, as Sherlock and I looked at him for a moment.

"Good shot." Sherlock said, quietly.

"Nice aim. Like how Mikoto would use her Railgun." I said, quietly. "I wish I had your aim. But I don't. So..."

"Yes. Yes, must have been, through that window." John said, trying and utterly failing to look innocent.

"Well, you'd know." Sherlock said, and John gazes up at him, still unsuccessfully trying not to let his expression give him away. "Need to get the powder burns out of your fingers. I don't suppose you'd serve time for this, but let's avoid the court case."

John clears his throat and looks around nervously.

"John, you okay?" I asked, looking down at the floor.

"Yes, of course I'm all right." John said.

"Well, you, um, you just killed a man."

"Yes, I ..." John said, while he trails off as Sherlock and I look at him closely. "That's true, innit?" He smiles as Sherlock and I continue to watch him carefully. "But he wasn't a very nice man."

Apparently reassured that John really is okay, Sherlock nods in agreement.

"No. No, he wasn't really, was he?" Sherlock asked.

"He wasn't if he kept offering people two pills. Along with being a manipulative ass." I said, laughing a lot.

"And frankly a bloody awful cabbie." John said.

Sherlock chuckles with me, then turns and starts to lead John and I away.

"That's true. He was a bad cabbie. Should have seen the route he took us to get here!" Sherlock said, as John and I giggled with the consulting detective smiling.

"That route was beyond terrible! I was watching it live! Jesus Christ!" I said, still laughing with Sherlock.

"Stop! Stop, we can't giggle, it's a crime scene! Stop it! Both of you!" John said, looking between Sherlock and I.

"You're the one who shot him. Don't blame me." Sherlock said.

"Keep your voice down!" John said, and we're walking past Sergeant Donovan before looking at her. "Sorry – it's just, um, nerves, I think."

"Sorry." Sherlock said, looking at Donovan.

"I'm sorry." I said, looking at Donovan. "I'm so sorry about our behavior."

John clears his throat as we walk away from Donovan, "Sherlock, you were gonna take that damned pill, weren't you?"

Sherlock stops and turns back to John, "Course I wasn't. Biding my time. Knew you'd turn up."

"No you didn't. It's how you get your kicks, isn't it? You risk your life to prove you're clever." John said.

"Why would I do that?" Sherlock asked.

"Because you're an idiot."

"Now you know why I love traveling with the Doctor." I said, looking at John.

"Is your Doctor like Sherlock? Is that why you hang out around him?" John asked, looking at me when Sherlock smiles, apparently delighted that he has finally found people who understand him and – more to the point – doesn't care about his behaviour. "Your time with your Doctor is ending, isn't it?"

"Yeah." I said, while after a moment, Sherlock forced the smile down. "Sherlock Holmes is the closest I can get to him now."

"Dinner?" Sherlock asked, looking between John and I.

"Starving." John said.

"Know anywhere good?" I asked, as Sherlock, John, and I turned and start to walk again.

"End of Baker Street, there's a good Chinese, stays open 'til two. Jared, I know how much you love Chinese. Your and your family loved getting Chinese food. You can always tell a good Chinese by examining the bottom third of the door handle." Sherlock said, and as he has been speaking, a few yards ahead of them a car has pulled up and the man who abducted John earlier gets out.

Not-Anthea is with him.

John stares, "Sherlock. Jared. That's him. That's the man I was talking to you about."

Sherlock looks across at the man.

"I know exactly who that is." Sherlock said, walking closer to the man and stopping, looking at him angrily.

I walked up to the man to stand behind Sherlock, as I grabbed his hand. John glances round to gauge where the police are in case he needs to summon their help. The man speaks pleasantly to Sherlock

"So, another case cracked. How very public spirited ... though that's never really your motivation, is it?" Mycroft asked.

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock asked, looking at Mycroft.

"As ever, I'm concerned about you. That's why I asked Jared to have me be informed on you and your cases."

"Why did you let him know about my cases?" Sherlock asked, looking at me.

"I do the same with River Song for the Doctor." I said, sadly.

"Thank you for that. For keeping me updated."

"No problem. Sherlock, he's concerned about you. That's why he called me, knowing that the TARDIS would reroute the call to me in 2013. I was in the middle of saving Gallifrey when he called me."

"Jared's right. I did call him and it reached him in the future. Which is the past for him. I am concerned about you." Mycroft said, looking at Sherlock.

"Yes, I've been hearing about your 'concern.'" Sherlock said.

"Always so aggressive. Did it never occur to you that you and I belong on the same side?"

"Oddly enough, no!"

"We have more in common than you like to believe. This petty feud between us is simply childish. People will suffer ... and you know how it always upset Mummy."

John frowns as if unsure of what he just heard.

"I upset her? Me?" Sherlock asked, as Mycroft glowers at him. "It wasn't me that upset her, Mycroft."

"No, no, wait. Mummy? Who's Mummy?" John asked, looking between Sherlock and Mycroft.

"Mother – our mother. This is my brother, Mycroft." Sherlock said, and John stares Mycroft in amazement before he looked at his brother. "Putting on weight again?"

"Losing it, in fact." Mycroft said.

"He's your brother?!" John exclaimed, looking at Sherlock.

"Of course he's my brother." Sherlock said.

"So he's not ..." John said.

"Not what?" Sherlock asked.

The brothers look at John as he shrugs in embarrassment.

"I dunno – criminal mastermind?" John asked, while he grimaces at having even suggested it.

"Um..." I said, as Sherlock looks at Mycroft disparagingly.

"Close enough." Sherlock said.

"For goodness' sake. I occupy a minor position in the British government." Mycroft said.

"He is the British government, when he's not too busy being the British Secret Service or the CIA on a freelance basis." Sherlock said, and Mycroft sighs. "Good evening, Mycroft. Try not to start a war before I get home. You know what it does for the traffic."

Sherlock walks away when I let go of his hand.

"I hate it when I fight with my brother. Even though it was childish and immature." I said, sadly.

John and I start to follow Sherlock but then turn back to Mycroft, who has turned to watch his brother.

"So, when-when you say you're concerned about him, you actually are concerned?" John asked.

"Yes, of course." Mycroft said.

"I mean, it actually is a childish feud?"

"He's always been so resentful. You can imagine the Christmas dinners." Mycroft said, still watching his brother.

"Yeah ... no. God, no!" John said, while he and I half-turns to follow Sherlock. "We-we'd better, um ..."

John turns back to not-Anthea, who has been standing nearby throughout the conversation with her eyes fixed on her BlackBerry. Meanwhile, I chose to stay put to still talk to Mycroft.

"So, you really want to stay in London then." Mycroft said, looking at me. "You know what's coming, don't you?"

"I do. Trenzalore. I mean, we recently came out of World War Three. I'm not looking forward to meeting him."

"You could still back away from meeting him, you know."

"I could, but I won't. I promise. Your brother needs me."

"Thank you." Mycroft said, while John and I followed after Sherlock. "Good night, Jared Shay and Doctor Watson."

John and I catch up to Sherlock and the three of us walk away side by side.

"So: dim sum." John said, happily.

"Mmm! I can always predict the fortune cookies." Sherlock said.

"No you can't."

"Almost can. You did get shot, though."

"Sorry?"

"In Afghanistan. There was an actual wound."

"Oh, yeah. Shoulder."

"Shoulder! I thought so."

"No you didn't."

"The left one."

"Lucky guess."

"I never guess."

"Yes you do." John said, laughing.

"I mean, there was a 50/50 shot of you getting it right." I said, laughing a lot.

John looks across to Sherlock, who is smiling, "What are you so happy about?"

"Moriarty." Sherlock said.

"What's Moriarty?" John asked.

"I've absolutely no idea." Sherlock said, cheerfully.

Back at the car, not-Anthea turns to Mycroft who is watching the boys and I as we walk away.

"Sir, shall we go?" Not-Anthea asked.

"Interesting, that soldier fellow." Mycroft said, as Not-Anthea looks briefly at the departing boys, then turns her attention back to her BlackBerry. "He and Jared could be the making of my brother – or make him worse than ever. Either way, we'd better upgrade their surveillance status. Grade Three Active."

Not-Anthea looks up from her phone, "Sorry, sir. Whose status?"

Mycroft intensely watches the departing men and I, "Sherlock Holmes, Doctor Watson, and Jared Shay."

Sherlock, John, and I walk in slow motion towards the end of the street before turning and smiling at each other as we're heading home.