Later at Bart's lab, Molly was finishing her test on Sherlock's urine sample. He was standing nearby, leaning back against the central bench, looking about sulkily. On the other side of the lab, the man was sitting on a side bench while Mary wrapped a badge around his arm, Isaac sitting nearby. John had called Anita about 15 times; every single one was going to voicemail. At this point, he must have texted her over thirty times. Oh, he was definitely going to kill her. He shoved his phone into his pocket before walking over to everyone else.
"Well? Is he clean?" John questioned as Molly took off her gloves.
"Clean?" Molly asked as she threw down her gloves. She turned and walked over to Sherlock and slapped him hard on the face with her right hand, she slapped him again and then with her left hand. Mary, Isaac, and the man looked over at her in shock as Sherlock blinked and grimaced.
"How dare you throw away the beautiful gifts you were born with? And how dare you betray the love of your friends? Say you're sorry," Molly said, angrily, to him.
"Sorry your engagement's over- thought I'm fairly grateful for the lack of a ring," Sherlock replied as he held his face.
"Stop it. Just stop it," Molly ordered, angrily. John walked over to Sherlock and gave him a stern look.
"Where's Anita? Does she know, Sherlock?" he asked, clearly upset. Sherlock looked away from John before sighing and turning back to him, a hint of what John thought was sadness in his eyes.
"Anita and I broke up," Sherlock told him.
"What?!" John, Mary, and Molly all exclaimed.
"When?" John pushed. This wasn't real; there was no way this was real.
"A few days after the wedding...got in a big fight... we decided it would be best if we ended things," Sherlock explained, sadly. John had so many questions, but there was one pressing question.
"Is that the real reason why you are taking this stuff?" John asked.
"No, I told you this is all for a case," replied Sherlock.
"A ca...What kind of case would need you doing this?" John questioned.
Before Sherlock could respond, the door to the lab was pushed open. In walked Anita O'Malley. She was looking down at her phone, scrolling quite a lot. Most likely through all of John's texts and calls. Anita looked up and promptly stopped in her tracks, staring at the people in the room who were staring at her. Anita gulped looking over at Sherlock before narrowing her eyes slightly.
"Actually, Molly, I'll come back later. You're clearly busy. Er, bye," Anita said, before trying to make a dash for the door.
"Oh, no you don't. Anita O'Malley, get back here!" John shouted after her and she stopped, turning and giving John a sheepish smile.
John grabbed her arm and dragged her until she was standing within the group. He turned Anita so she was facing him and gave her a stern look. As he looked into her eyes, he noticed that they were a little puffy and red. She had clearly been crying, probably cried herself to sleep the night before.
"What the hell is wrong with you? You and Sherlock broke up? Where are you even staying?" John questioned rapidly. Anita's face scrunched up at him, shaking his hands off her.
"What the hell is wrong with me? He's the one who wanted a break, kicking me out of our flat," Anita argued, pointing over at Sherlock, who rolled his eyes at her.
"It was a mutual agreement!"
"No, you wanted it to be a mutual agreement, you di-"
"Okay, you two, knock it off!" John cut in. He glanced between the two as they glared at each other. Sure the couple had their fights, but never like this. The two of them continued their glaring contest until Sherlock's phone sounded off a text.
"Ah! Finally!" Sherlock exclaimed.
"Finally what?" Molly asked.
"Good news?" the man asked Sherlock. Anita turned to look at him before turning to John with a questioning look. John was still staring at her, trying to see the lie. Anita O'Malley and Sherlock Holmes were made for each other, they were meant to get married and live out their lives together and then they were going to die and decompose together. What the hell was going on?
"Oh excellent news- the best. There's every chance that my drug habit might hit the newspapers. The game is on," Sherlock said as he walked towards the door. He had to walk past Anita though. He paused next to her and gave her a small, sad look. Anita turned her head away, biting her lip. Sherlock sighed softly at this before carrying on to the door.
"Excuse me for a second," Sherlock said and he left the room. Anita rocked on her feet, shoving her hands in her back pockets. Mary, John, and Molly were still staring at Anita. She huffed before looking up at them.
"Look, it's all very shocking but can we move on? The staring is getting a bit uncomfortable," Anita said, glancing around at them.
"Why? Why did you two do that, Anita? You were perfect together," Mary insisted. Anita sighed, shrugging her shoulders.
"He wanted a break. I'm giving him what he wants," Anita replied, offering a small sad smile. John shook his head before grabbing Anita's arm again. Nope, he was not going to do this today.
"John? What are you doing?" Mary asked him.
"You take the boys home, Mary. I'm taking Anita with me to Baker Street to take Sherlock home and fix...this," John said, using his free hand to gesture vaguely at Anita before attempting to drag her out of the lab.
"Hey! This is borderline abduction," Anita argued, trying to dig her heels into the floor and tugging on her arm. John rolled his eyes before turning around to her.
"No, it's not. Come on, don't make me carry you," John scolded her and Anita mocked him behind his back but allowed him to drag her out of the lab.
Later in the cab, Anita, John, and Sherlock were sitting alone in the back. Anita would normally sit between the two men, but she threw a fit, demanding that John be in between them. John looked over at Anita, watching as she leaned her head against the window, scooted as far away from Sherlock as she could be. John glanced over at Sherlock and realized he was doing the same thing.
"You've heard of Charles Augustus Magnussen, of course," Sherlock said to John.
"Yeah. Owns some newspapers- ones I don't read," John replied. Sherlock frowned and looked out the back window then around the cab, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Anita on the other side of John.
"Hang on- weren't there other people? And why is she here?" Sherlock asked, bitterly.
"Mary's taking the boys home; I invited Anita along to take you home and maybe we can fix whatever the hell is wrong with you two," John said, sternly. Sherlock rolled his eyes and Anita huffed, slumping in her seat. The rest of the cab ride was silent until they finally pulled up to 221 Baker Street.
"What is my brother doing here?" Sherlock asked after he saw the door. John and Sherlock walked up to the door, leaving Anita to pay the cabbie before following.
"He straightened the knocker. He always corrects it. He's OCD. Doesn't even know he's doing it," Sherlock said as he pushed the knocker to one side then let himself in.
"Why'd you do that?" John asked him.
"Do what?" Sherlock replied.
"Nothing," John said as he opened the door for Anita, who stayed planted outside.
"Please, please, just let me go-"
"No, come on, Anita. Inside. Now," John ordered and Anita, reluctantly, walked in. John shut the door as the three of them entered and saw Mycroft sitting on the stairs.
"Well, then, Sherlock. Back on the sauce?" Mycroft asked.
"What are you doing here?" Sherlock questioned.
"I phoned him," John cut in.
"The siren call of old habits. How very like Uncle Rudy- though, in many ways, cross dressing would have been a wiser path for you. Anita, I thought you were watching him?" Mycroft asked her and Anita raised her head to look at him.
"Not my job anymore. Not after he broke up with me," Anita replied, crossing her arms.
"Really?" Mycroft asked, glaring over at her. Anita returned the look, tenfold.
"You phoned him," Sherlock cut in, folding his arms and not looking at John or Anita.
"Course I bloody phoned him," John said.
"Course he bloody did. Now, save me a little time. Where should we be looking?" Mycroft questioned, a hint of anger in his voice.
"We?" Sherlock asked.
"Mr. Holmes?" Anderson's voice called from upstairs.
"For God's sake!" Sherlock yelled, furiously, as he made his way upstairs. Anita, John, and Mycroft exchanged a look before following Sherlock into the flat as well.
"Anderson," Sherlock growled as he entered the flat.
"I'm sorry, Sherlock. It's for your own good," Anderson responded and Anita noticed that he had a female assistant with him. Sherlock dropped his keys onto the kitchen table as Anderson's assistant stared at him.
"Oh, that's him, isn't it? You said he's be taller," she said and Anita snickered as Sherlock stormed over to his armchair, flipping up his hood and climbing into it.
"Some of your little fan club, to be polite. They're entirely trustworthy, and even willing to search through the toxic waste dump that you pleased to call a flat," Mycroft said as Sherlock curled up sideways in his chair, laying his head on one of his arms, closing his eyes.
"Hey! Watch it, buddy, this is Mrs. Hudson's place you're talking about," Anita argued to Mycroft, who happened to glance over at Sherlock and saw a little smirk on his face. Mycroft carried on like he didn't hear Anita's comment.
"You're a celebrity these days, Sherlock. You can't afford a drug habit."
"I don't have a drug habit," Sherlock snarked back.
"Hey, what happened to my chair?" John asked, pointing at the empty space between Sherlock's chair and the kitchen.
"It was blocking my view of the kitchen," Sherlock replied and Anita snorted, turning away.
"Well, it's good to be missed!" John exclaimed, turning to Mycroft.
"Well, you were gone. I saw an opportunity," Sherlock said.
"No, you saw the kitchen," John sassed as Mycroft turned to Anderson.
"What have you found so far? Clearly nothing," Mycroft said.
"There's nothing to find," Sherlock remarked.
"Your bedroom door is shut. You haven't been home all night. So, why would a man who has never knowingly closed the door without the first orders of his mother bother to do so on this occasion?" Mycroft questioned as he approached Sherlock's bedroom door. Sherlock raised his head, flipped back the hood and hurled himself into a sitting position.
"Okay, stop! Just stop! Point made," Sherlock shouted as Mycroft turned the knob but didn't open it.
"Jesus, Sherlock," John commented. Mycroft released the door knob and slowly walked back along the hall.
"Have to phone our parents, of course, in Oklahoma. Won't be the first time that your substance abuse has wreaked havoc with their line dancing," Mycroft said as Sherlock got up and walked closer to his older brother.
"This is not what you think. This is for a case," Sherlock insisted.
"What case could possibly justify this?" Mycroft questioned.
"Magnussen. Charles Augustus Magnussen," Sherlock replied and Mycroft's smile dropped. He turned to Anderson and his assistant.
"That name you think you may have just heard, you were mistaken. If you ever mention hearing that name in this room, in this context, I guarantee you- on behalf of the British security services- that material will be found on your computer hard drives resulting in your immediate incarceration. Don't reply- just look frightened and scuttle." Anderson herded his assistant out of the kitchen and followed her onto the landing, closing the door behind him. Mycroft then turned to John and Anita.
"I hope I won't have to threaten you two as well."
"Well, I think the three of us would find that embarrassing," Anita replied and Sherlock snorted with laughter, turning his head away.
"Magnussen is not your business," Mycroft said sternly to Sherlock, who turned back to him and pointed at Mycroft.
"Oh, you mean he's yours," he said.
"You may consider him under my protection," replied Mycroft.
"I consider you under this thumb," said Sherlock.
"If you go against Magnussen, then you will find yourself going against me," Mycroft said, ominously.
"Okay. I'll let you know if I notice," Sherlock responded, nonchalantly. He walked toward the kitchen door, still talking to his brother.
"Er, what was I going to say? Oh, yeah. Bye-bye." Sherlock opened the door for his brother. Mycroft walked around him, then turned to face him.
"Unwise, brother mine," he said.
Immediately, Sherlock grabbed Mycroft's left arm just below the elbow. Twisting his arm up behind his back, he slammed his brother's face into the wall beside the kitchen door. Mycroft cried out in pain and Anita took a few steps towards the brothers.
"Brother mine, don't appall me when I'm high," Sherlock said, venomously.
"Mycroft, don't say another word. Just go. He could snap you in two, and I'm starting to think he might. Sherlock, let him go," Anita ordered, but there was a gentleness to her voice. Sherlock let go of his brother and Mycroft held his left hand in pain while Sherlock turned and walked away. Mycroft turned towards him but Anita held her hand up.
"Don't speak. Just leave," she repeated, reaching down and grabbing his umbrella before holding it out for him. Mycroft took it with a scoff.
"Broken up, indeed," he muttered so only Anita could hear before leaving the flat. Anita stuck her tongue out at his back before turning back to John and Sherlock.
"Er, Magnussen?" John asked Sherlock.
"What time is it?" Sherlock questioned, ignoring John. Anita pulled back her sleeve, looking at her watch.
"About eight," she replied as Sherlock sniffed deeply and sighed out a disgusted breath.
"I'm meeting him in three hours. I need a bath," Sherlock said as he made his way through the kitchen. Sherlock brushed past Anita, rubbing his hand against hers for less than a second. Anita glanced over at him as he winked down at her. Anita rolled her eyes, pretending to be upset by his actions.
"It's got to do with a case, you said?" John questioned, not having the slightest clue as to what the duo was playing at.
"Yep," Sherlock replied.
"What sort of case?" John pushed.
"Too big and dangerous for any sane individual to get involved in," he said.
"You trying to put me off?" John asked as Sherlock walked towards the bathroom.
"God, no. I'm trying to recruit you...Anita, would you like to tag along as well?" Sherlock asked.
"You gonna kick me out again?" Anita snarked. Sherlock gave the two a small smile before going into the bathroom.
"And stay out of my bedroom," Sherlock shouted and the door closed. Anita was walking into the living room as John walked past her.
"And where are you going?" Anita asked as John reached the hallway. The bedroom door opened and out came Janine wearing one of Sherlock's shirts. Anita bit the inside of her cheek, rolling her eyes and looking away.
"Oh, John, hi. How are you?" Janine asked John, who stared at her in disbelief.
"Janine?" he asked.
"Sorry. Not dressed," she said and she made her way to the kitchen.
"Has everyone go- what is she doing here?" Janine asked, angrily, as she finally saw Anita. Anita offered her a fake smile, narrowing her eyes slightly.
"I invited her," John defended instantly.
"You do know she broke Sherl's heart and that's why he came to me," Janine replied with a smug smile. Anita let out a deep breath, raising an eyebrow.
"If anyone actually cares, he kicked me out and broke up with me," Anita insisted, scoffing. Janine rolled her eyes at Anita before turning to John.
"Speaking of Sherl, where is he?"
"Um, he's having a bath. I'm sure he'll be out in a minute," John said, looking between Anita and Janine. If he had to bet money, he'd bet his next month's rent on Anita. She could kill Janine in the blink of an eye. Janine couldn't hurt a fly if she tried.
"Oh, like he ever is!" Janine cheered as she walked towards the bathroom. Before she opened the door, she turned and sent Anita a challenging look. Anita kept her face neutral, raising an eyebrow expectantly. Janine rolled her eyes before opening the door.
"Morning! Room for a little one?" she asked and Anita heard them giggle along with a splashing sound. Anita brought a finger up and stuck it down her throat, pretending to gag.
"Morning," Sherlock replied as the door closed and John and Anita heard him chuckled as Janine let out an high pitched,
"Ooh!"
John turned away as Anita huffed. She shook her head as John stared at her.
"What?" Anita snapped at him.
"You're just going to let- let that happen?" John asked, gesturing at the bathroom vaguely. Anita's face scrunched up at him.
"What do you want me to do, barge in? Yeah, I would like to keep my breakfast in my stomach, thank you," Anita replied as she rolled her eyes and made her way towards the sofa, plopping down and grabbing the telly remote from nearby.
"Now, I'm going to blast the telly as to keep from vomiting. Care to join?" Anita offered, throwing a lazy look over at John. He nodded and sat down next to her, watching as she turned the TV on and pressed the volume up button until it was at 100.
Eventually, both Sherlock and Janine came out of the bathroom and got dressed. Anita turned off the TV, sharing a glance with John. Anita stood up and walked over to the doorway, leaning against it. Sherlock and Janine were making out on his chair. Anita, once again, fake gagged. This wasn't jealousy; no this was just Anita not enjoying the sight of Sherlock kissing another woman. She didn't count that as jealousy, right?
"Solve me a crime, Sherlock Holmes," Janine said and got up off his chair.
As she walked past Anita at the doorway, she purposely bumped her shoulder against Anita's. Anita sighed, spinning around behind Janine's back and holding her fingers like they were a gun, pretending to shoot her. Janine didn't see any of this as she continued down the stairs and out of the flat complex. Anita walked backwards into the flat, turning around and standing next to John, who gave her a shocked look. Sherlock getting one girlfriend was a miracle, but two was unbelievable. Sherlock slammed the door shut, once Anita was out of the way.
"You know Magnussen as a newspaper owner, but's so much more than that. He uses his power and wealth to gain information. The more he acquires, the greater his wealth and power. I'm not exaggerating when I say that he knows the critical pressure point of every person of note or influence in the whole of the Western world and probably beyond. He is the Napoleon of black mail and he has created an unassailable architecture of forbidden knowledge, It's name is Appledore," Sherlock said as he walked towards his laptop and showed the pair the picture of Magnussen's house.
"Dinner," John said.
"Sorry, what, dinner?" Anita asked, her face scrunching up.
"Me and Mary, coming for dinner...with...wine...and...sitting," John said, staring at Sherlock.
"Seriously? I've just told you that the Western world is run from this house and you want to talk about dinner?" Sherlock said looking over at John, who still looked surprised.
"It is the greatest repository of sensitive and dangerous information anywhere in the world...the Alexandrian Library of secrets and scandals and none of it is on a computer. He's smart- computers can be hacked. It's all on a hard copy in vaults underneath that house; and as long as it is, the personal freedom of anyone you've ever met is a fantasy," Sherlock continued and Anita heard a knock on the door. The trio looked over and saw Mrs. Hudson standing there.
"Oh, that was the doorbell. Couldn't you hear it?" Mrs. Hudson questioned.
"It's in the fridge. It kept ringing," Sherlock replied.
"Oh that's not a fault, Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed.
"Who is it?" John asked.
A few minutes later, three security guards came into the living room. Sherlock, John, and Anita were standing by the fireplace.
"Oh, go ahead," Sherlock said to them in a mock-wearily voice. Sherlock spread his arms and allowed one of the guards to frisk him. One walked over to Anita, who held up a hand to stop him.
"Wait, let me just-" Anita reached behind her and grabbed her gun out of it's holster, holding it out to the guard. He narrowed his eyes at the gun before glancing up at Anita. She sighed and wiggled the gun in front of him. He took it hesitantly and Anita rolled her eyes.
"Would you have rather found it or have me give it to you?" Anita asked before spreading her arms and allowing the man to frisk her down the rest of the way. When the first guard finished frisking Sherlock, he walked over to John.
"Sir?" John glanced over at Sherlock and Anita then back to the guard.
"Can I have a moment?" John asked the man. Anita and Sherlock lowered their arms.
"Oh, he's fine," Anita said, waving the guard off. But the man frisked John anyway.
"Er, I, right. I should probably tell you..." John said, and the man pulled a knife out of John's jacket pocket.
"Okay, I...that," John stuttered as the man pulled John's jacket open and found the tire lever in his pants. Anita and Sherlock glanced at each other before looking over at John, startled.
"Doesn't mean I'm not pleased to see you," John joked.
"We can vouch for him. He's a doctor. If you know who we are then you know who he is...don't you, Mr. Magnussen?" Sherlock asked as Magnussen walked into the room.
"I understood we were meeting at your office," Sherlock said to him. Magnussen looked around the room before speaking up.
"This is my office." And he slowly walked towards the sofa, then he stopped and looked over at John. Then he moved his gaze to Anita, who kept her face neutral. On the inside though, she was cringing. The way he looked at her made her feel uncomfortable; like he was reading her whole life story based on what expression she made.
"Well, it is now. Simon is a lovely name, don't you think, Miss O'Malley?" Magnussen asked and Anita's breath hitched. Magnussen walked over to the table and picked up a newspaper before going over to the sofa and sitting down, like he didn't even say anything. Anita stared at him, her brow furrowing. How the hell-
"Mr. Magnussen, I have been asked to intercede with you by Lady Elizabeth Smallwood on the matter of her husband's letters. Sometime ago you...put pressure on her concerning those letters. She would like them back," Sherlock said and Magnussen looked at him sternly. Sherlock was mainly trying to get the conversation off Anita; her hitched breath gave her away. That, added to the fact that Sherlock knew her like the back of his hand.
"Obviously the letters no longer have any practical use to you, so with that in mind...something I said?" Sherlock asked as Magnussen gave a quiet snort.
"No, no. I- I was reading. There's rather a lot. Redbeard," Magnussen said and Anita watched as Sherlock blinked and his mouth opened slightly. Anita gave Sherlock a concerned look as Magnussen started talking again.
"Sorry. S-sorry. You were probably talking." Sherlock stood there and stammered a bit. Anita then turned to Magnussen and picked up where Sherlock left off.
"He was trying to explain that he's been asked to act on behalf of-"
"Bathroom?" Magnussen cut in, turning to one of his guards.
"Along from the kitchen, sir," the guard replied.
"Okay," Magnussen replied.
"I've been asked to negotiate the return of those letters. I'm aware you do not make copies of sensitive documents-" Sherlock said, firmly, but Magnussen interrupted him.
"Is it like the rest of the flat?" he asked, gesturing around the room.
"Sir?"
"The bathroom?" Magnussen asked.
"Er, yes, sir," the guard replied.
"Maybe not, then," muttered Magnussen.
"Am I acceptable to you as an intermediary?" Sherlock questioned.
"Lady Elizabeth Smallwood. I like her," Magnussen commented and he popped his mouth a couple of times.
"Mr. Magnussen, am I acceptable to you as an intermediary?" Sherlock repeated.
"She's English with a spine," Magnussen said as he stood up and walked over to the fireplace.
"Best thing about the English, you're so domesticated. All standing around, apologizing, keeping your little heads down. You can do what you like here, no one's ever going to stop you," Magnussen said as he unzipped his pants and urinated on the fireplace.
"A nation of herbivores. I've interest all over the world but everything starts in England. If it works here, I'll try it in a real country," Magnussen said as he finished urinating and jiggled up and down as he shook it off, then he zipped up his trousers. He looked at himself in the mirror before turning and strolling back in between Anita and the boys. One of the guards held out a packet of wet wipes to him and Magnussen took one and turned to face the trio.
"The United Kingdom, huh? Petri dish to the Western world. Tell Lady Elizabeth I might need those letters, so I'm keeping them. Goodbye," he said as he dropped the wipe on the floor and turned to leave. He pulled back and put his hand inside his pocket and pulled out the edge of a packet.
"Anyway, they're funny." Then he and his guards left the flat.
"Jesus!" John exclaimed, furiously. Anita let out a deep sigh; she was pretty sure that guard still had her gun. Ugh, she was going have to write a whole report and request a new one and-
"Did you notice the one extraordinary thing he did?" Sherlock asked.
"Wh...there was one moment that kind of stuck in my mind, yeah," Anita replied as she gestured towards the fireplace.
"Exactly when he showed us the letters," Sherlock said.
"Okay," John said.
"So he's brought the letters to London, so no matter what he says, he's ready to make a deal. Now, Magnussen only makes a deal once he's established a person's weakness; the pressure point, he calls it. He pointed out Anita's earlier. So, clearly he believes I'm a drug addict and no serious threat," Sherlock ranted as he grabbed his coat, "And, of course, because he's in town tonight the letter said I'll be in his safe in his London office while he's out to dinner with the Marketing Group of Great Britain from seven til ten."
"How- how do you know his schedule?" John asked. Anita sent him a pointed look.
"Did you forget who you're talking to?" she asked and John shook his head at her.
"I'll see you two tonight. I've got some shopping to do," Sherlock said.
"What's tonight?" John questioned.
"I'll text instructions," Sherlock shouted as he walked down the stairs.
"Yeah, I'll text you if I'm available," John shouted back.
"You are! I checked!" Sherlock replied as John and Anita walked down the stairs.
"Don't bring a gun, you two," Sherlock told them.
"Why would we bring a gun?" John questioned.
"Or a knife or a tire lever. Probably best not to do any arm spraining, but we'll see how the night goes," Sherlock said as the three of them walked outside.
"You're just assuming we are coming along?" Anita asked him.
"You are, yes. As for John...well time for him to get out of the house. You've put on seven pounds since you got married and cycling isn't doing it," Sherlock stated as he flagged down a cab and opened the door to get in.
"It's actually four pounds," John replied.
"Mary and I think seven. Anita, I need your help, come with me," Sherlock said and Anita rolled her eyes, but got into the cab.
"See you later," Sherlock said as Anita pulled the door shut behind her. Then he turned to the cabbie.
"Hatton Garden."
Anita looked out the back window and watched as John walked away. Sherlock reached over and grabbed her hand. Anita hummed and turned over to look at him, a small smile on her face. Sherlock smiled before pulling her into a kiss. Anita kissed back instantly; she missed him dearly.
"Anita, never let me do this again. If I have to deal with Janine for another day, I think I'm going to kill her," Sherlock muttered as he pulled back and Anita chuckled, leaning back but keeping her hand on his face.
"I'll help you," Anita replied and Sherlock smirked. He pulled her into him, holding her tightly. Janine was absolutely horrible, compared to Anita anyways. Anita hummed contently into his chest, before leaning back and looking into his eyes.
"Are you alright? With that whole thing about your dad?" Sherlock asked, genuinely concerned. Anita offered him a small smile.
"Yeah, I'm good," she replied, nodding her head gently. Sherlock hummed, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. He frowned slightly at how bare it was, but he knew it was part of the plan. People would question why she had the ring, which would unravel everything they set up. Anita noticed his frown and gave him a small smile before reaching into her pocket. She pulled out her ring and held it out to him.
"You want to put it on?" she asked. Sherlock smiled softly before taking the ring and slipping it on her finger, just like he hand when he first proposed.
"That's better," Sherlock told her as she laughed at him. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. Anita shook her head at him, tucking herself into his side as the taxi ride continued.
author's note !