"Since when do you want to go anywhere?" I asked Sherlock a few days later. I sat on the arm of his chair, watching as he gathered his attire to go out. "You've been in here for almost a week now. Am I driving you insane?" I pouted.

"Far from it." He flashed a smile. "Just need to air out for a bit. If I'm not back within twenty-four hours, call someone."

I laughed. "Funny. Are you taking this with you?" I waved his famous hat in front of his face. I'd found it lying around. I'd never seen him wear it except in the pictures in the newspapers.

Sherlock frowned. "That can stay in here."

"Aw, come on." I flitted to him, plopping the hat on his head. "You look incomplete without it."

"It's for media use only."

I sighed. "Fine, leave it here with me." I smiled as he slapped the hat on my head. "Can I pull it off?"

"If you were me you could." He pulled me closer to him.

I shook my head. "Don't make me have to come get you from jail again, the time before wasn't fun. I don't want to do it again."

"I can't promise anything."

I kissed him lightly. "Just be careful, okay?"

"Like I said, no promises."

I rolled my eyes as Sherlock escorted himself out of 221B. My heart was still flying in my chest. There were no problems, unless you counted the guilt that picked at me every now and again. There was a nagging voice in my head saying, Karma will come back to bite you, hard. Hope you're ready for it. Don't complain when it hits.

I sought out my phone, seeing that I'd left Darien hanging. Ever since Mrs. Hudson suggested I talked the pregnancy out with Dad and Mary, I figured I could take a small step towards that by talking to Darien. She was a married woman now, and I hadn't talked to her for quite some time. She'd spurred the journal writing when I'd talked to her after The Fall. When it came to this kind of stuff, she was the girl to talk to. Amanda was my ultimate listener. Kendal and Madison weren't as supportive. If I tried to get a hold of them, they would focus on Sherlock more than my life.

I started off my day with the usual routine: breakfast, shower, and an episode or two of The Following on my iPod. Though the show wasn't expecting a new season until early next year, 2014, I wanted to watch so I was good to go.

Just as I finished a second episode, my phone went off. Smiling solemnly, I answered.

"You haven't started a search-and-rescue for me, have you?" I teased.

"I might if you stay down there longer," Bay replied. He seemed a little less tense, but I could tell my attempt at joking wasn't working with him.

"I'm guessing you didn't get called in today?"

"Nope. Having you in London makes being here really lonely."

"That's when you invest in a pet, or you go out."

"If I had enough motivation to do either, I would. Are you trying to hint you want a dog for your birthday?"

"No, I was just saying." Having an animal had never crossed my mind.

"So things have been going okay?" Bay asked me.

I shook my head, sensing his worry over the phone. A pang hit my heart as I realized he was oblivious as to why I was still in London. "Yeah."

"When are you coming back?"

"Soon," I assured him. "Hopefully Sherlock won't need me for much longer."

"Why not leave now?"

"He'd find a way to keep me here until I'm not useful to him anymore."

"Is he there with you now?"

"No."

"Then pack your things and leave. He can't track you if he's gone."

"Bay, this is Sherlock we're talking about. He probably chipped my phone or me," I half-joked. It sounded like something he'd do. "I'll be back regardless. It's not like I'm down here permanently." As much as this little thing with Sherlock was fun, I didn't live here. If I stayed much longer, Bayley would surely suspect something was up.

"If you were, I'd be right there with you."

I blinked back tears. "I know you would be. You know, we remind me of my dad and Sherlock, before he was married, I mean."

"How do you figure?"

I involuntarily drifted into the kitchen. "Well, you want to go wherever I do. Only, you can't follow me." Dull footsteps caught my attention. "Listen, I've got to go. I think Sherlock's back. I hate to hang up, but if I don't, he will."

"Call when you get the chance to, Rach."

I forced a smile, not that Bayley could see it. "I will."

"I love you."

"I love you too." Somehow, those words didn't seem so genuine anymore.

I tucked the phone away, hoping it was Sherlock and not someone else. Who would just walk in here like they own the place, though? I shuddered, remembering someone who had done that once.

"You're back already?" I called. "You must've gotten bored pretty quickly." I sauntered out of the kitchen only to jump a foot in the air.

I'd heard him coming, sure, but he was the last person I expected to see in 221B.

"Normally people knock or at least give a heads-up as to when they're visiting," I stated as I stared him down. "Shouldn't you be spying on everybody else since you're involved in the government?"

"There's all the time in the world for that."

"If you're looking for him, he's not here. But I'm sure you knew that already. So why are you here? You can't be here for Sherlock; you would have tried to call him before resorting to visiting." I pursed my lips. "You can't be here for me, because I can't see why you'd want to see me."

"He's rubbing off on you." His eyes narrowed. "I hope he's not turning you into a clone of him. One is enough for the world."

"What do you mean by that?" I snapped.

"You going on the small tangent you just did. He has a bad habit of doing it, only he goes on for much, much longer. And by the way, you presume wrong." He cleared his throat. "I did come here to talk to you."

"I have a phone." I patted my pants pocket to prove my point.

"I figured a face-to-face was more appropriate."

I heaved a sigh. "What do you want, Mycroft?"

"I need to address something."

"Let me ask you something first. Were you apart of his fake suicide?" Mycroft just stared at me. "Okay, clearly I'm not going to get an answer."

"I've noticed your increased involvement with my brother."

I blinked. It shouldn't have shocked me that Mycroft would keep up on his little brother's life. But I was a little paranoid now about how he found out. That's what he was talking about, right? Or he could just mean that we're on a "case" together, but he might think it's a real one. Surely Sherlock wouldn't have just flat-out told Mycroft about us. They didn't seem very close.

"I get the feeling that what you just said has a deeper meaning that you won't tell me about." I cocked my head to the side.

"I can't help but wonder if you're the new Watson."

"Temporarily. I'm heading back home once this case is through."

"But there is no case, is there?" Mycroft raised an inquiring eyebrow at me. I tried to hide my surprise, but it was too late. "You can lie to others, Ms. Watson, but you can only fool so many people."

"Oh God, you're like him too." I pinched the bridge of my nose. "It must run in the Holmes bloodline."

"How did it happen?"

"Sorry?"

"Stop playing dumb. It wastes time."

I sighed. Oh yeah, Mycroft and Sherlock shared traits. "I don't know, honestly. It just...happened. That's all I can give you. Did he tell you about it?"

"Of course not, I found out my own way."

"Of course you did," I huffed. I backed up until I felt the arm of Sherlock's chair. I plopped a seat on it, not taking my eyes off the elder Holmes. "You don't look like a happy brother with that news."

"We may not be close, but I still worry about him." Mycroft stepped into the apartment. "I worry about what consequences can come from this."

"So you're calling this a bad thing."

Mycroft bobbed his head. "I am."

"So you're jealous of him."

"Hardly. I'm warning you now, Rachel, stop this. I can see no good coming out of it."

"You just can't stand to see your brother happy is all this is." I sniffed.

"You'll see what I mean in time. Relationships cause trouble and pain. Haven't you both had enough for a lifetime?"

I stiffened. "I think it's time you left."

Mycroft smiled grimly. "You're so much like your father. At least he wouldn't keep things from you like you're doing to him right now."

Oh, that's where you're wrong, Mycroft. He hasn't told me about the baby. One of my hands became a tense fist. There was no point in asking how Mycroft knew my real dad. I was sure he'd found out the first time I'd met him. If he was anything like Sherlock, he would have deduced that John Watson and I were blood related.

"You won't rat me out."

"Don't give me reason to, and I won't. Good day, Ms. Watson."

As Mycroft left 221B, my body erupted in a slight tremor. I hadn't felt this frightened since Moriarty had threatened to come after me. I winced as I thought the deceased's name. Some things couldn't be forgotten.

Right now, I could admit I was frightened of Mycroft Holmes. He wanted me to stop being involved with Sherlock. How could I when I was already more than feet deep in? Was that what Mycroft would have told Sherlock had he caught his brother instead of me? Would he warn Sherlock to end this before things got messy? But aren't things already messy?

Mycroft is just irritable because his baby brother has someone and he doesn't. Yeah, I could try and convince myself of that, but it was proving difficult.

I couldn't pull out of this. It wasn't that simple.

Nothing ever was.

**Well when brother dearest sniff you out...best listen to what he tells you.**