Sherlock had come back before the sun set, so I was lucky to not get a call from Greg or have to file a missing person's report. When he returned, my mind went to Mycroft. He knew about us. He knew that this was only between us. But did he know that I was cheating on Bayley? He might, knowing that it's Mycroft. I'd only met the elder Holmes brother twice in my life, and it felt like he knew everything about me.

Dinner was quiet, like it was since I'd been staying in 221B. I was trying to keep Sherlock in the dark about his brother's visit by keeping normal. But knowing him, he'd find something unusual and go from there, eventually coming to the conclusion that Mycroft had threatened me, threatened us.

I'd gotten out of dinner deduction-free. When night settled in, the gnawing thought of Mycroft's visit nipped at me. My stomach churned uneasily. I'm warning you now, Rachel, stop this. I can see no good coming out of it.

Hoping to make myself feel better, I fetched a blanket, wrapping myself in it. Sherlock was up playing his violin, so I stole his chair after I got the fireplace going. It took some time before I got comfortable, but eventually I managed to find a sweet spot. I curled in the corner closest to the warm fire. Even though it wasn't the greatest season to have a fire going, I felt like I needed one, like it would help calm my nerves.

I was caught between a rock and a hard place. This secret was at risk of being exposed to the people who I wanted to keep it from. If I didn't end this, Mycroft would.

I wondered how long it would take before Sherlock noticed I was curled up in his chair. He probably had his back turned to me.

This seemed almost natural, this different chemistry. To think, Sherlock and I had butted heads the first time I'd spent time with him. To think, from the first time he'd seen me, he'd known about my true identity. And now, here we were, getting along.

Did the thought of dating his best friend's daughter bother him? Did Sherlock even see me as John Watson's daughter right now? Did he just not care?

This was something I couldn't explain, because I would never understand what went on in Sherlock's mind. He was the last person I'd expect to have a serious relationship with. He didn't exactly come off as relationship material.

He seemed to be settling in to this new thing easily, though. I didn't know whether to be overjoyed or worried.

I was tempted to pull out my dad's blog on my iPod to see if I'd read all the posts on the site. I felt like I'd read a good amount before Sherlock had come back to the world. I knew there were still many more cases I had yet to read, though.

"Don't get too comfortable there."

I peered up to see Sherlock standing over me. "You're not going to move me."

"You really want me to try?"

I shrugged. "I've been bored all day. Unlike you, I handle my boredom by not shooting walls and giving people heart attacks."

"So the alternative is moping around?"

"Pretty much," I muttered. "I was thinking about reading more of my dad's blog."

"Haven't you gone through it already?"

"Not all of it."

"Why not just ask me about the cases?"

"I would rather hear it from his side, not yours. You'd make everything sound simple and obvious when really it isn't."

Sherlock squeezed his way into the chair, practically smashing me between an arm and him. I sighed, adjusting to the tight space I had left. Timidly, I laid my head on his shoulder, staring at the fireplace.

"You didn't have to stop playing," I murmured. "It must be nice to be talented."

"Oh, don't make it sound like you don't have your strong points, Rachel."

"Name one."

"You have a knack for going out with the wrong people."

I winced. Some strong point. "You're saying you're wrong for me?"

"Am I not?"

I shrugged. "You seem to be okay to me. Besides, if you think I'm wrong for you, why is this still going on?"

"You also go out with those who keep dark secrets from you."

Well, way to avoid my question, Sherlock. "Are you saying that about you and Bayley? He hasn't kept anything from me."

"Do you know that for sure?"

I nodded. "We don't hide things from each other."

"I wouldn't go saying that."

"Don't tell me you were making deductions of him at the wedding," I groaned.

"I wanted to make sure you knew what you were getting yourself into."

"I knew when we started dating," I snapped. "Speaking of secrets, are you ever going to tell me how you did it?"

Sherlock exhaled noisily. "You won't give up on that, will you?"

"You know I won't. And don't tell me something I want to hear. I want the truth."

"You'll never get it."

"People were in on it. Can you at least tell me who knew about it?"

"Why? So you can pester them?"

"Why would I do that?"

"You're desperate."

"Why not ask the source, then?" I stole a side glance at him.

"The source won't be of much help."

"Well, the source needs to stop being a pain in the ass. Was any of the ways discussed on the Internet spot-on or even close to what you did?"

"It depends on what you think happened, not what others believe."

"Oh come on, Sherlock," I whimpered, shifting. "You won't even give me a hint?"

"Why should I? You know my methods."

"No, I don't." I frowned. "I haven't been around you like my dad has."

"You can figure it out."

"What if it's very complicated and something that nobody will ever guess?"

"Then you'll live never knowing." Sherlock shrugged.

I buried my head into his neck. "Why must you be stubborn?"

"Why do you have to be so nosy?"

"My father's best friend had the world convinced he was dead for two years, and then he suddenly came back. Don't you think I have every right to know how you faked it? I mean, I was on the rooftop when you did it." I winced as I remembered Sherlock simply falling forward off the ledge.

I saw a crack of a smile emerge on his lips. This sparked my interest.

"What?"

"All you had to do was look down, and you would have known," he whispered.

"I guess I can take that, for now anyways. Hey, totally random change of subject, but I need to know this so I can make sure I wasn't crazy. On the day I visited your grave, the first time, I—I saw a figure around in the cemetery."

"It was me."

My eyes popped. "You were around while we were saying goodbye to you?"

"When you saw me, I was sure all of it was going to unravel quickly."

"But it didn't. You got away before I could catch you. Were you in Baker Street after that?"

"No."

"Never mind that, then."

Sherlock didn't press about the topic dying so suddenly. I didn't want to have to explain to him that I saw Moriarty shoot himself in his bedroom or that I saw him and he disappeared when I tried to show my dad he was in the bedroom.

"I know about the visit, Rachel."

"Sorry?"

"The only time I've seen you afraid was when Moriarty was still around. Since he's not in the picture anymore, my brother is the most likely suspect to scare you."

A pounding ache settled in my head. "So then you must've figured out what he came to talk to me about."

"Whatever he's told you, I wouldn't worry too much about it."

"Really? So I shouldn't worry that he'd be willing to leak this out to people who shouldn't know about it if this doesn't end?" I retorted. "Your brother doesn't seem like the bluffing type, Sherlock."

"Like I said, don't worry too much."

"It makes me only worry more." A large hand enclosed one of mine. "What's going to happen when I go home?"

"That's your decision."

I bit my lower lip. "Something's got to give in the end. I can't be with both of you."

"You can."

"Not if I decide to get married. I can love more than one person, but I can only marry one." I swallowed, realizing that I'd have to give up either Bayley or Sherlock, leave them, break their heart.

My heart beat painfully in my chest at the revelation. Who would I be willing to give up? There was always the third option of dropping them both, but I knew that idea was scratched. I could never do that.

Sherlock seemed to be the safer bet, as I hadn't been with him for almost two years nor did I sleep with him. I had never told him "I love you," and honestly, I was treating this like a fling, no serious thing. As long as I kept him quiet, Bayley would never know.

Life would go on, but would the guilt go away? If Sherlock treats this like a fling too, I shouldn't feel bad about it.

With a heavy heart I realized I couldn't be with Sherlock for so many reasons. I had to factor in the primary thing: I was already in a stable, long-term relationship with a guy who treated me like a princess. I also had to factor in that I was currently together with my dad's best friend. That just didn't seem right, for Sherlock to date me behind my dad's back.

Maybe Bayley didn't deserve me for this. Maybe I would be better off alone. I was no killer psycho, but I was being unfaithful, all because I had been tempted by the dark side. I was a bad person. If I stick with Bayley, I'll have to tell him about this. If he loves me, he'll know that the regret killed a little piece of me every day. He'll know that I wish I could take it back but know that I never can.

"How long do you plan on staying?" Sherlock's question brought me out of my internal battle. I guess that fight could continue another time.

"When will you let me go?" I teased. My tone was very forced.

"I may never. I may just keep you here."

"I have to go back sometime." I sighed. "God, how did I get myself into this?"

"I convinced you."

I rolled my eyes. I shifted again so I could pull him in for a kiss. I have to soak all this up while I still can. I felt silent tears fall down my cheeks. Why did I think this was a good idea? This was perhaps the worst thing I'd done. You win, Mycroft. This will end before the secret comes out.

My heart ached as I realized how big of a secret this really was. Aside from Mycroft, nobody knew about this little affair. I was still very wary as to how the future would look now that I felt the urge to nip this issue in the bud.