Look out for the <>!

As soon as Sherlock and Lestrade were gone, I walked out of the room and into the kitchen. I was starving. I had high hopes when I went into the fridge. But I lost those hopes when all I saw was a tongue in a bowl of ice. "When was the last time you went shopping?" I asked with a frown as I closed the fridge. Without me doing the shopping for him, I wondered who did it because I was sure he didn't do it himself.

"I guess I'll get something out," I said out loud as I put on a scarf that was on the coat rack then walked out of door to get John.

Once again I walked the streets of London. It felt good to be back. The faint laughing from the surrounding pubs were calming. The night was busy and full of life but yet it was calming at the same time. This is what I missed. It felt like home.

I took the Tube with the remaining two pounds in my pocket and before I knew it found myself just down the road from John's place.

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I walked down the quiet street and hummed a little song that I hadn't heard in such a long time. For whatever reason, this town put me in a good mood and I didn't push it away like I normally would do. I welcomed it. I stopped at John's place and knocked on the door without even thinking about what to say to him.

I heard John's voice say, "I'll get it!" and panic filled me. What was I thinking getting him into this mess? He had a family, a life outside of Sherlock. I couldn't do this to him. Before I had time to run off, the door opened a crack, revealing John, looking tired.

"Hi John," I said and gave him a small smile, not really sure what else to say to him.

It didn't even take him a second to shut the door on my face. I frowned. I thought it would go better than this. But a second later I heard the deadlock undo and then the door opened all the way to give. Without waiting, John pulled me inside his small London flat and gave me a hug. "I thought you killed yourself." He said and closed the door behind us.

I frowned. Why would I have killed myself? That was an awfully dark thing to think. "Nope, I just went to Ireland. Sherlock told you, didn't he?"

"No. After that phone call you gave me, I asked him a couple times where you went, but he never gave me a response. I dropped it after a while, thinking the worse. Did you end up sorting out what you needed to?"

I frowned. "Yeah," I said flatly, giving the hint to drop it. I didn't want to talk about all of what I did back home. I felt guilty about how I acted and I never wanted to remember that month again.

"What brings you back? You know, you have a bounty on your head. Lestrade was so mad when Sherlock told him you were gone. You should have seen it. Lestrade does not know what happened to you. Not even Sherlock would tell him the correct answer."

"How much is on me?"

"50,000 pounds."

I raised my eyebrows at him and smiled. I think that is the most that had ever been on my head. "Wow, that's a lot. It's glad to know he cares enough about me to put that much on my head," I said sarcastically.

"So what do you need help with?"

Leave it to John to always know when he needed to help. Out of all the people here in London, he was one one that I could trust the most. He was a good man with a good heart. He made me feel like I was more than just a convicted criminal. "It's a long story and I prefer not to tell it twice, Sherlock said to get you and bring you back."

"Um oh ok, I'll hail a cab."

"I rather not." I shook my head, wanting to take the Tube instead. I missed it and it helped me clear my head. Now was this time I needed to think clearly. "I'll take the Tube, thank you."

"Then I'll go with you," John said as he got his coat on.

"Fine with me."

"Marry, I'm going out of a few! I won't be back till late, don't wait up!" John yelled down the hall before he walked out the door with me.

Before we knew it, we were in Sherlock's flat. I sat down on the couch as John made us tea because that was the only food like substance in this flat. For about an hour we just sat, talking.

"Why did you come back?" John poured himself a drink of coffee.

"I don't like Ireland. There was nothing there for me. This place feels more like home than Dublin ever did. That city brought out the worst in me," I said to him as I sat on a couch.

"I'm sure it didn't," John said, always looking on the bright side and seeing the best in people. He always thought of me as this perfect person, that was where he was wrong. However, as much as I tried to correct him, his view never changed about me.

I shook my head at him. He didn't understand the complete picture. "You didn't see me there," I said as I played with my hands.

The door opened and Sherlock barged into the flat, looking like he just went swimming in a marsh. He looked at me and then at John. "Ok tell us," Sherlock said as he took a seat on an empty chair.

I took a deep breath and smelt his stench, but thought it best not to say anything. Now was not the time for criticism. "Ok." This was what I was waiting for, but why did the words not want to come out of my mouth? "The group that had Kale wants me. I have about another week, maybe only a few days, until the leader kills people I care about. I don't know what to do, Sherlock. Being in Dublin made me feel like I lost my touch."

"I don't want to join her, I can't. If she leads me in by threatening, I don't want to know what she makes her people do. I need your help," I said to both of them.

I watched Sherlock lean forward in his chair and put his fingertips together as if in deep thought, he then asked, "Start at the beginning. How did the leader find you?"

This was what I was afraid of. I would have to retell every painful memory, every second I wish I could forget. But I knew it was important that he know all the details to understand the situation fully. "I- I was at the funeral and I was the only on there and she came up to me. She said she wanted to add me to her collection and I had about one month to decide. She gave me this card." I said as I handed him her calling call. "With this, I would need to find her. If not, she would start killing more people."

"More?" John asked with disgust in his voice.

I nodded at him, holding my emotions at bay. "Yes, she killed my Nan. I think that was her lure to get me away from Scotland Yard and you two. It was also used to get under my skin."

"That's a good guess. I think you might be right." Sherlock said as he looked at the card I gave him. He then sniffed it and cradled it in his hand as if he was weighing it. "This is top quality paper stock. And it smells like vanilla," he said, mainly to himself.

"That's nice." I said, not paying attention to his words. I laid my head down on a pillow on the couch, suddenly feeling exhausted.

"What did she look like?" John asked.

I closed my eyes. "She had short blonde hair and green eyes, she was thin too."

"Can you tell me anything else? Anything specific that you can remember from her," Sherlock asked, not catching the clue that I was about to pass out on the couch.

I looked up at him and frowned. "Sherlock, I- when I was there. One reason I left Ireland was because it changed me when I was there. I'm not the same person who left London a month ago. I didn't pick up on those little things when I saw her. I don't know want happened, but I lost my charm. John might be better help than I am," I yawned and closed my eyes again.

I heard John say, "hey" in defense and if I was more with it, I would smirk, but I was just too tired. It had been a long day, and I just wanted to call it a night.

"What did you say to her?" Sherlock asked, still pressing the questions that I was tired of answering.

"That I wasn't interested, but she had a way of saying things to get it under your skin. She had to be a white-collar criminal too. She was just too good and calm."

There was a minute of silence and then Sherlock said some words that I wasn't really paying attention to and then I drifted off to sleep.