I sauntered over to the windows with John, waiting to see the police car disappear. I wanted to chuck something at Donovan the moment I saw her climb into the car. Before he got in, Greg stole a temporary look up at us through the window. My brows came together in concentration as the car started up.

"They'll be deciding," Sherlock noted.

"Deciding?" John and I asked in unison.

"Whether to come back with a warrant and arrest me."

"You think?" John asked.

"Standard procedure."

"You should have gone with them," I said, yawning. "People will think..."

"I don't care what people think."

"You'd care if they thought you were stupid, or wrong," John sided with me.

"No, that would just make them stupid and wrong."

"Sherlock." John's voice contained a hint of anger. "I don't want the world believing you're..."

I pulled my gaze away from the window when John cut himself off. I looked from him to Sherlock. Both were staring at each other, I felt like I was in the middle of the crossfire.

"That I am what?" Sherlock pressed.

John was hesitant. "A fraud."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, sitting back in the seat. "You're worried they're right."

"What?"

"You're worried they're right about me."

"No."

"That's why you're so upset. You can't even entertain the possibility that they might be right. You're afraid that you've been taken in as well."

John turned his attention back out the window. "No, I'm not."

"Moriarty is playing with your mind, too." I cringed when Sherlock slammed his hand onto the table. "Can't you see what's going on?"

I could. I knew what Moriarty was doing. Unlike John, the idea of Sherlock kidnapping those children would never have an ounce of truth to me. There was no way he could have done it. Moriarty was manipulating others into believing Sherlock wasn't who he said he was.

"No, I know you're for real," John finally said. I let out a relieved breath.

"A hundred percent?" Sherlock asked.

"Well, nobody could fake being such an annoying dick all the time."

"That is true," I vouched.

"Rachel," Sherlock addressed me.

"Yes?"

"I know he came to visit you."

I swallowed. "I don't—"

"If you try to hide the fact the only thing you'll succeed at is embarrassing yourself."

"Moriarty visited you?" John gasped. "When?"

"Today, not long after we left for St. Aldate's," Sherlock told him.

I stood there, frozen. Someone's phone went off. I knew it wasn't mine, I'd turned mine off. When John took out his, he lumbered towards the middle of the living room.

I slunk over to Sherlock, glaring down at him. "How?" I demanded.

He rose, heading for his personal chair. "At Scotland Yard, you jumped when your phone went off. You were afraid it was him again. He probably told you that you weren't safe."

"He said I'm next," I reported stiffly. "I can't not get a little freaked out by that."

"You tried to murder him, yet now, months later, you're still afraid of him."

"I know what he's capable of." I tossed my head. "You know what he's capable of. Look at what he's doing to you now."

"So," John interrupted, "still got some friends on the Force. It's Lestrade. He says they're all coming over here right now, queuing up to slap the handcuffs: every single officer you ever made feel like a tit, which is a lot of people."

I moaned. "Lovely." I put my hands on my hips.

A quiet "Ooh-ooh!" and a tap on the closed door caught my attention. Mrs. Hudson slipped into the living room.

"Oh, sorry, am I interrupting?" It was obvious she could feel something was up.

"Is something wrong?" I asked her.

"Oh, not at all. Some chap delivered a parcel. I forgot. Marked 'Perishable'—I had to sign for it." She had an envelope in her hand, John took it from her.

"Is this what you were telling me back at Scotland Yard, those envelopes?" I asked John. He nodded once.

"Funny name," Mrs. Hudson mused. "German, like the fairytales."

Sherlock got out of the chair. John was prying open the package. Sirens cried out in the distance. It looked like the police weren't wasting any time in trying to bag Sherlock.

The content wasn't bread crumbs or a book this time. This time, it was a gingerbread man. I tilted my head. John tilted it so everyone could get a better angle. My lips parted in horror as I noticed the cookie was burnt. I thought back to that night at the pool and Moriarty's words.

"Burnt to a crisp," Sherlock whispered.

The sirens stopped wailing. They're here. Faint car door slams reached my ears.

"What does it mean?" John asked. Sherlock and I looked at each other. We knew.

The doorbell rang, followed by a loud pounding on the door.

"Police!" someone shouted.

"I'll go," Mrs. Hudson volunteered, leaving to go downstairs. I hoped she didn't keep them waiting, they sounded pretty impatient. They'd probably break the door down before she'd get there.

"Sherlock." I bristled. Donovan was coming. Great, now I'd get the chance to give her a good slap across the face for starting this. She fell for Moriarty's mind game.

"Evening, Mrs. Hudson," I heard Greg say from downstairs.

"We need to talk to you!" Donovan shouted. I looked pointedly towards the open way into the apartment.

I quickly watched as John shoved the burnt cookie back into the package and headed downstairs. Goodness, why not have Sherlock and me join the party downstairs next?

"Don't barge in like that!" Mrs. Hudson barked. It was strange to actually hear her angry.

I stiffened as thundering feet bustled up the stairs. I backed up, for some reason petrified.

"Have you got a warrant?" I heard John ask. I threw a look at Sherlock. He was dressing to go out. I closed my eyes, wishing this wasn't happening. "Have you?"

"Leave it, John," Greg told him.

"Really! Manners!" Mrs. Hudson voiced.

"Rachel, come over here with me," John said, tugging me with him.

"Why?"

"Just do it. I don't want you doing anything you'll regret."

Greg came into the apartment, followed by Donovan, who was followed by two armed officers. I watched in horror as Greg told Sherlock his rights. One of the armed officers attached handcuffs to Sherlock's left wrist.

"Sherlock Holmes, I'm arresting you on suspicion of abduction and kidnapping," Greg announced.

I let out a gasp as one of the officers wrenched Sherlock's left hand behind his back so his other wrist could be cuffed.

"He's not resisting," John said.

"It's all right, John," Sherlock told him quietly.

"He's not resisting," I repeated. "No, it's not all right. This is ridiculous."

"Get him downstairs now," Greg told the officer who'd just handcuffed Sherlock.

"Stop this!" I tried to intervene but John held me back. "You can't seriously believe it! Sherlock is innocent!" I quivered as I watched Sherlock disappear with the officer. I stole a look to see Mrs. Hudson in near tears.

"You know," John addressed Greg, "you don't have to do—"

"Don't try to interfere, or I shall arrest you too." Greg wasn't kidding around. "The same applies to you, Rachel."

"Please," I pleaded. "You can't—"

"Don't interfere." My eyes became slits as Greg and I had a momentary staring contest.

Greg left the room, leaving John alone with me. I'd almost forgotten Donovan's presence as she lurked near the door.

"You done?" John snapped at her.

"Oh, I said it," she said smugly. If John wasn't holding me back right now, I would have lunged for Donovan. Her victorious attitude made me want to sock her in the mouth. "First time we met."

"Don't bother."

"'Solving crimes won't be enough. One day he'll cross the line.' Now, ask yourself: what sort of man would kidnap those kids just so he can impress us all by finding them?"

Mrs. Hudson gasped, my mouth hit the floor.

"That's it," I growled. I lunged for Donovan, but John held me back. I struggled a little bit, all while my hatred ebbed off me like body odor.

"Rachel, it's not worth it," John whispered to me. "You don't need to be taken away, too."

Just then, a new person walked into the room. He looked to be a portly guy, and quite honestly, I despised him just by looking at him. I had a feeling he was on Donovan's side, the I-believe-Sherlock-kidnaps-children side. It was also possible he was higher up in rank than her was as well.

Since I didn't know what title he went by, I gave him one of my own. I figured Pig Boss worked just fine.

"Donovan," Pig Boss said. I even hated the sound of his voice.

"Sir," she greeted him.

"Got our man?"

"Er, yes, sir."

"Looked a bit of a weirdo, if you ask me." Pig's eyes roamed the apartment.

I looked at John in befuddlement as he suddenly let me go. He gently pushed me aside, I watched him carefully.

"Often are, these vigilante types." Pig's eyes finally caught onto John staring at him. "What are you looking at?"

If I had known what was about to happen next, I probably wouldn't have intervened, because what did happen next was something I would have done.

John throttled Pig Boss, giving him a nice bloody nose.