"No, I need you to put me through to Detective Inspector Lestrade," Addison's eyes flickered over to the laptop screen on John's lap, "tell him Detective Inspector Hart phoned and the search result came up. Yes, he'll know what I mean!" hanging up, she shook her head, "some people, I honestly don't know."

"-left here, please. Left here," John interrupted her, giving the driver directions as the location of the phone came up again on the screen, "take it you didn't get through?" he asked, glancing at her quickly.

Addison sighed as she handed John back his phone, "Greg's went home for the night and they can't get a hold of him. Donovan's ignoring my calls, not that she'd come out anyway, unless something happens. And with Sherlock in the mix, something is bound to happen."

"Yes, he does give the impression he doesn't live a normal life doesn't he?" John muttered and then stiffened as they pulled into a parking lot between two buildings, "Why the hell would they come here?" he asked, as he went into his wallet for some money.

Glancing at the buildings, Addison shook her head "I have no idea… I just wish that Sherlock had left a clue as to which one he went in."

"Well, that would make it too easy," he muttered darkly, accepting his change from the driver and opening the door.

Getting out of the cab after John, Addison felt a wave of unease as she seen the other cab parked in front of them and went over to put her hand on the engine. It was lukewarm and she just hoped that they weren't too late, "Okay, I'll take this building," she said pointing to her right, "and you take that one."

"If something happens, make a lot of noise," John called out as Addison ran towards the door, "I'll keep trying Lestrade and let him know we're here!"

Entering the quiet building, Addison stopped and tried to ignore the beating of her heart and listened out for any sign of Sherlock or anyone else in the silence. "Sherlock?" she called out and ran along the corridor, glancing into every room that she passed and wishing that she had gone with flats rather than heels today as they echoed loudly through the corridor, "Sherlock! Can you hear me?"

My feet are going to be in a hell of a state tomorrow she thought to herself, wincing when her heels pinched her toes slightly. She should have learned by now that a good pair of trainers were more appropriate for police work, no matter how pretty a pair of heels were.

Every room was dimly lit which didn't help much as Addison was sure on several occasions she could see someone in the room. But when she took a closer look, it was then that she realized that it was empty and would berate herself as she began her search again, running up the stairs at the end of the corridor two at a time to the next floor.

Sherlock was running out of time… and Addison hated that feeling of helplessness that was beginning to creep up on her. The murderer could be anywhere.

Stopping to catch her breath, Addison leant over and tried to catch her breath, she was just about to call out again when she froze at the sound of muffled voices from the end of the corridor and slowly stood up. "They would be in the building I'm in," she muttered and got out her gun, holding it out in front of her as she walked forward, glancing around for any sign of the murderer while being on her guard in case he jumped out at her. Wondering what the hell they could be talking about, Addison walked forward and tried to listen.

Just as she glanced into a room, a gunshot echoed loudly through the building and the fear choked her as she ran towards the source of the noise without thinking. "Sherlock!" Addison shouted, hoping with everything in her that he would reply as she pushed the double door open, "Sherlock!"

"I'm here… I'm fine," Sherlock said quickly, backing away from the cracked window with the bullet hole in it, "Same can't be said for him, though."

Looking down, Addison seen the cab driver from before and warily kicked away the gun that he was reaching for. "Any idea where the shooter is?" she asked, watching as Sherlock rushed over, "Get the gun."

"There's no point it isn't real," Sherlock muttered "and no, there's no sign of a shooter but I'll find him."

The cab driver coughed weakly and twitched a little as the blood poured out from the wound, "So this is the murderer?" Addison asked but frowned when Sherlock ignored her and picked up a pill bottle.

"Was I right?" Sherlock demanded, looming over the dying man and narrowed his eyes at him, "I was, wasn't I? Did I get it right?"

Addison looked at him incredulously as she lowered her gun, "What are you on about?"

"Shut up!" Sherlock snapped heatedly, throwing the bottle at the man in anger while Addison felt annoyed at how he had spoken to her, "Okay, tell me this. Your sponsor. Who was it? The one who told you about me, my fan. I want a name."

The man was silent before he manage to rasp out an answer, "No…"

"You're dying," Sherlock said darkly, his hands clenching into fists "but there's still time to hurt you. Give me a name."

"Sherlock, don't-"

But before Addison could say another word, Sherlock pressed his foot down hard on the cab driver's wound and glared down at him while he cried out in pain. Addison turned away and pressed her lips together, trying to block it out as Sherlock demanded for a name.

"MORIARTY!" the man twitched once more in pain before he fell still and his head slumped to the side.

Stepping back, Sherlock looked confused for a moment as Addison came by to stand next to him, "Moriarty…" he whispered, "so that's your name."

"Come on," Addison muttered, pushing her hair back from her face and feeling the exhaustion creep up on her as the adrenaline faded away, "John will want to know you're alright," she heard police sirens in the distance and sighed, "looks like Lestrade finally got my message."

Out of the corner of her eye, Addison seen Sherlock look at the other pill bottle on the table and she frowned remembering his words from before, "Why did you ask him if you were right?" she asked slowly, noticing how he tensed a little, "You weren't really going to take the pill were you?"

"This is how he managed to make them look like suicides at first," Sherlock said curtly, leading Addison out of the room, "they would take one pill and he would take the other. No way of knowing which the right pill was. It was a game of chance."

"And yet you never answered my question," Addison gave him a firm look, "Were you going to take that pill?"

"Addison-"

"Is life getting that boring again, Sherlock?"

He stopped and looked at her, "Of course I wouldn't' have taken it," he snapped and then tried to calm down, "I just wanted to know if I had…"

"Outsmarted him," Addison finished his sentence and rolled her eyes, "of course, why am I not surprised."

As they headed into the corridor, Addison put her gun away back in the holster and noticed Sherlock watching her, "Would you have really used it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"If it stopped you from dying, yes… it wouldn't have been the first time I've used it," Addison replied, trying to stop herself from yawning, "protect and serve, remember?"

"You need to sleep. You look awful."

"Piss off."

Outside there was an ambulance and a few squad cars. Addison spotted Donovan and Lestrade and waved them over, "Sherlock found the killer," she said, pointing to the building that the two of them had just vacated, "he's on the second floor."

"What, you just left him?" Lestrade asked "What if he escapes?"

"He's dead," Sherlock said flatly, rolling his eyes, "so there's no fear in him escaping."

"And how exactly did he die?" Donovan asked suspiciously as she looked at Sherlock, "Did you have something to do with this?"

Addison shook her head, "A shooter from the other building that…" she stopped and wondered why John wasn't here, surely he would have seen or at least heard the shooter unless… "that I never got to check. I just ran in here on a whim," she finished saying and then looked at Sherlock, "c'mon, we should get you looked over."

"What? Why?" Sherlock frowned, "I'm fine. I wasn't the one who was shot."

"Just do as your told," Addison scowled and gave him a push, "I'll talk to you in a minute, Greg."

She watched as they headed into the building and sitting on the back of the ambulance with Sherlock, Addison let out a shaky breath and glanced to the small group of people watching with interest at the goings on except for one, who stood there patiently with his eyes on Sherlock and herself.

They both sat there in silence while Sherlock kept pushing off the blanket that the ambulance men gave him, much to Addison's amusement, until Lestrade came back out alone and Addison gave him a tired smile, "Looks like we've lost that giant headache, doesn't it?" she joked.

"Definitely," he said, running a hand through his short hair, "I'm glad that this is all over."

Sherlock sighed audibly as another blanket was placed on his shoulders, "Why have I got this blanket?" he asked irritably, "They keep putting this blanket on me."

"Yeah, it's for shock," Lestrade explained, putting his hands into his coat pockets.

"I'm not in shock."

Lestrade snorted as he stood beside Addison, "Yeah, but some of the guys want to take photographs."

"I guess that will be someone's new screensaver," Addison laughed a little as Lestrade chuckled at Sherlock's face.

Ignoring them both, Sherlock glanced at the other building "So, the shooter. No sign?"

"Cleared off before we got here," Lestrade said, growing serious again, "did you see anything, Addie?"

She shook her head "I just heard the shot… by the time I got in the room he was long gone."

"A guy like this would have enemies, I suppose," Lestrade said thoughtfully, "one of them could have been following him, but… we've got nothing to go on. Again."

Giving the other man a small smirk, Sherlock squared his eyes, "Oh, I wouldn't say that…" he murmured.

"Oh for god's sake, just show off already," Addison said, rolling her eyes.

"The bullet they just dug out of the wall's from a handgun," Sherlock spoke fast as he explained, in his opinion, the obvious points that no one else could ever see, "A kill shot over that distance, that kind of weapon. That's a crack shot we're looking for. But not just a marksman, a fighter. His hands couldn't have shaken at all, so clearly he's acclimatized to violence," Addison couldn't help but glance at John again and felt it in her gut that he was the shooter, especially when Sherlock spoke again, "He didn't fire until I was in immediate danger, though, so strong moral principle. You're looking for a man probably with a history of military service… and nerves of steel…"

He stopped talking and Addison looked up at him and noticed that his eyes had settled on John: he had finally connected the dots. "Are you sure about that Sherlock?" Addison asked pointedly, "Surely this was just a hit?"

"Actually, do you know what? Ignore me, Detective Inspector Hart is probably right," Sherlock said quickly much to Lestrade's surprise.

"Sorry?"

"Ignore all of that. It's just the er… the shock talking," Addison tried not to smile as Sherlock wandered off and Lestrade grabbed his arm.

"Where are you going?"

"I just need to talk about the rent."

"I've still got questions though," Lestrade replied, frowning at him and then Addison, "We both do."

Addison shrugged and pulled the blanket more over her shoulders, "To be honest, Greg, mine can wait."

"Well, mine can't!"

Sherlock sighed and held up the blanket, "I'm in shock, look, I've got a blanket!"

"Sherlock!"

"Leave him be Greg," Addison stood up and walked inbetween the two men, "He did just catch us a serial killer."

Sherlock nodded, "More or less."

Glancing between the both of them, Lestrade gave them a suspicious look, "Okay…" he finally said, folding his arms, "we'll pull you in tomorrow, off you go."

"I believe you left a bag at my flat, Detective Inspector Hart?" Sherlock gave her a look that meant he needed to talk to her, "Care to share a taxi?"

Addison nodded, "I'll be in bright and early, Greg," she said as Lestrade opened his mouth to object, "after a good night's sleep."

As they headed over to John, Sherlock glanced at her "Anything that you hear next is between us, agreed?"

"Sherlock, I knew it was John before you did," Addison whispered, glancing around to make sure no one could hear them, "only I knew he was in that building and that's how it's going to stay."

"Really?" Sherlock smiled a little and Addison raised her eyebrow at the admiration in his tone, "I think you're slowly becoming my favorite Detective Inspector at New Scotland Yard."

"That's because I'm the only one who puts up with you."

Holding up the police tape, Addison slipped under and gave John a smile, "Erm, Sergeant Donovan has just been explaining everything," John said calmly as he stood with his hands clasped behind his back, "The two pills. Dreadful business, isn't it? Dreadful."

"Hmm… genius though," Addison said, folding her arms, "it certainly stumped us on how he was killing all those people."

"Good shot," Sherlock said, his tone as calm as John's was and a small smile on his face as he looked intently at the other man.

Nodding, John gave no reaction to Sherlock's comment, "Yes. Yes, it must have been. Through that window."

"Well, you'd know," Addison murmured, tilting her head at John, "I mean, you were in the same building as the shooter."

Sherlock chuckled, "Need to get the powder burns out of your fingers. Addison isn't going to say anything, not that I suppose you'd serve time for this," he added as an afterthought "but let's all avoid the court case."

"Are you alright?" Addison asked, as John cleared his throat and avoided their eyes.

"Yes, of course I'm all right."

"I think she means are you all right after killing a man-" Sherlock began to say but John interrupted him.

"Yes," he thought for a moment before smiling weakly at them both, "that's true, isn't it? But in my defense, he wasn't a very nice man."

Sherlock looked entertained, "No. No, he wasn't really, was he?"

"He was an evil son of a bitch in my book," Addison said, rolling her eyes, "you did us all a favor."

"And frankly, he was a bloody awful cabbie."

Addison couldn't help but laugh at John's comment, "That's true," Sherlock agreed after snorting in amusement "he was a bad cabbie. You should have seen the route he took us to get here."

Both John and Addison laughed as they walked away from the crime scene, "Stop it! We can't giggle, it's a crime scene. Stop it," John muttered under his breath but unable to stop smiling.

"Yes, it's especially bad if an officer of the law is seen laughing at a crime scene," Addison whispered, nudging Sherlock with her shoulder and he looked down at her grinning, "a man has just died, you know."

"John's the one who shot him, not me."

"Keep your voice down!"

They passed some other officers and Addison tried to look more serious as she nodded at them, "You were gonna take that damn pill, weren't you?" John asked seriously and Addison shared a look with Sherlock.

I wasn't the only one thinking that

Sherlock shook his head as he put his hands into his pockets, "You're as bad as Addison. Of course I wasn't," he said trying to sound convincing, but John like Addison wasn't buying it, "Biding my time. I knew one of you would turn up."

"No you didn't," John scoffed, looking at him with narrowed eyes, "That's how you get your kicks, isn't it? You risk your life to prove you're clever."

Addison couldn't help but smile a little: John hadn't known Sherlock for that long but he had sussed him out quicker than she had. "Why would I do that?" Sherlock frowned.

"Because you're an idiot."

Sherlock smiled and thought for a moment before he looked at both of them, "Dinner?"

"Starving, how about you Addison?"

Yawning, Addison nodded "I think food before I sleep would be a good idea. I'm in, could we go to that Chinese place?"

"Will it still be open?" John asked and Sherlock nodded.

"Stays open till 2am… did you know, you can tell a good Chinese by the bottom third of the door handle?"

"No, I didn't… why's that?"

Before Sherlock could answer Addison's question, John stopped suddenly and grabbed Sherlock by the arm, "Sherlock. That's him, that's the man I was talking to you about." Addison followed his eyeline and seen that it was Mycroft standing with his umbrella in hand as usual.

This would be fun.

"I know exactly who that is," Sherlock muttered, his eyes narrowing onto his brother.

Mycroft smiled politely at the three of them, "So… another case cracked," he said causally, "how very public-spirited. Though that's never really your motivation, is it?"

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock sounded irritated and Addison folded her arms and glanced at John, who looked ready for a fight should it arise and she bit the inside of her cheek, she couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he found out who Mycroft really was.

"As ever, I'm concerned about you. And Miss Hart of course," Mycroft said, nodding to her, "you shouldn't let him run you ragged, my dear Addison."

Addison smiled tiredly, "Don't remind me, I probably look as awful as I feel."

"You could never look awful."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Yes, I've been hearing about your so called 'concern'!"

Mycroft chuckled and leaned on his umbrella slightly, "Always so aggressive. Did it never occur to you that you and I belong on the same side?"

"Oddly enough… no," Sherlock answered sarcastically.

"Sherlock, play nice," Addison said, putting a hand on his arm, "it's been a good night, after all."

"I will if he will."

"We have more in common than you'd like to believe," Mycroft continued, a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he watched Addison and Sherlock interact, "This petty feud between us is simply childish. People will suffer…" Mycroft paused and Addison couldn't help but grin at the expression on John's worried face, "and you know how it always upset Mummy."

John frowned slowly and looked dumbfounded by what Mycroft just said and Addison let out a small giggle, "I upset her?" Sherlock frowned at his brother, "Me? It wasn't me that upset her, Mycroft."

"Well, you didn't help the situation either, Sherlock," Addison shook her head at the two men, "your both as bad as each other."

"Oh, that's it, take his side. Like you always do."

"I'm not taking anyone's side. And I do not always take Mycroft's side!"

"No…no, wait…" John held up his hands and looked at disbelief at Sherlock "Mummy? Who's Mummy?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Mother. Our mother."

"This is Sherlock's brother… Mycroft," Addison said, smiling as she introduced them, "Mycroft, this is John Watson, Sherlock's new roommate but you probably already knew that."

John was speechless as Sherlock turned to Mycroft, "Putting on weight again?" he taunted "What a shame."

"Losing it, in fact," Mycroft answered not rising to the bait, "and you're quite right Addison, I was already aware of this."

"He's your… brother," John repeated, still frowning at them all, "this… this is your brother?"

Sherlock's eyes never left Mycroft's "Of course he's my brother."

"So he's not…"

"Not what?"

Addison and the two Holmes brothers looked at John curiously while he tried to find the right words, "I don't know… criminal mastermind?"

"You're close enough there, John."

Mycroft rolled his eyes, "For goodness' sake," he muttered "I occupy a minor position in the British government."

"Correction. He is the British government," Sherlock said, curling his lip slightly at his brother, "when he's not too busy being the British secret service or the C.I.A on a freelance basis."

Addison bit her lip to stop her from smiling any wider, "He's just concerned Sherlock," she said, her voice shaking a little with laughter at the look she got in return, "it's quite sweet actually."

"That's your opinion, Addison and feel free to keep it to yourself," Sherlock gave Mycroft a mocking smile, "Good night brother, try not to start a war before I get home, you know what it does for the traffic."

He walked away and Addison smiled at Mycroft, "Nice to see you as always," she said jokingly as John still looked stunned by this revelation about his new roommate.

"And you my dear, keep safe now."

"So, when you say you're concerned about him…" John said slowly, squinting his eyes at Mycroft, "you actually are concerned?"

Mycroft frowned slightly, "Yes, of course."

"I mean… it actually is a childish feud?"

Addison rolled her eyes, "One that has been going on since they were children. It's driven me mad at times being stuck between them."

"He's always been so resentful," Mycroft sighed, watching as his brother impatiently waited for the other two "you can imagine the Christmas dinners."

John looked to Addison and she shook her head, "Trust me, you can't…" she whispered, remembering last year's fiasco.

"We'd better…Erm…" John glanced at Mycroft's assistant and cleared his throat, "Hello, again."

"Hello," she actually looked up from her phone and Addison shared a smile with Mycroft.

"We met earlier on this evening," John muttered, avoiding Addison and Mycroft's gaze and when the assistant merely arched an eyebrow, he shook his head, "Okay, goodnight."

Squeezing Mycroft's arm, Addison rolled her eyes as she laughed, "Goodnight Mycroft, I'll keep an eye on them both," she assured him as she walked away quickly to catch up with Sherlock and John. Linking her arm through Sherlock's she shook her head as he shot Mycroft one more annoyed look over his shoulder, "Don't be like that, Sherlock, at least he cares."

"I didn't ask him to care. Why does he care?" he muttered, not reacting to her holding onto his arm while they walked, although John did raise both of his eyebrows, "I hope one of you has cash?"

"I don't have any… I left my bag in the flat," Addison and Sherlock looked at him simultaneously.

John scoffed, "So I pay for all the taxis and the Chinese?"

"You just killed a man and we're covering for you," Sherlock pointed out, "the least you could do is buy us dinner."

"And pay for the cab home," Addison added, winking at him when he shook his head.

Despite the grumbling, John couldn't help but smile, "What the hell have I got myself into?" he asked warily as Sherlock and Addison shared a look and smiled at each other.