Alrighty! It's been a long time since I've written the first Chapter, and I apologize. Thank you for the reviews, and your creative ideas for what really happened to our favorite detective. I've considered some of them, but I think you'll enjoy what I have planned. Yes, this chapter is shorter, but I've been writing this for my English class.

This Chapter is more of Sherlock's "Friends" finding out of what just happened, and their reactions. So, I hope you'll like it, and please review! Your feedback is most helpful!

Lestrade sat behind his mahogany desk in his office, reading. Papers littered his desk, some finished, some needed to be read and signed. But he's been at it all day, and he needed a break. The room was silent. Every now and then there was the sound of the Inspector flipping a page, or the creak of his chair when he leaned back. He liked the silence, really. It was comforting to him. It was nicer than having someone always breathing down your neck as you look at some body, or a shattered window of a break-in. It's always been 'Murder Here!' or, 'Robery there!' The Inspector was quite annoyed with it now, and was finally getting used to the quiet today.

Knock Knock Knock Knock!

Lestrade flinched at the sudden noise. He looked at the door, when he heard another set of knocks, and a muffled "Sir!"

He sighed. Here we go again.

The door burst open, revealing a panting Constable Clarky. The tall man held his cap in his left hand, using the other to lean against the doorframe.

"What now?" Lestrage asked, with an annoyed tone.

"Sir... it's..." The taller man breathed.

Lestrade rolled his eyes. "What?"

"You're.. not going to.. believe it..."

The Inspector was getting impatient. He stood up, setting his book on his desk. "For God's Sake, spit it out!"

"…It's...221b Baker Street."

~?~¿~?~

A young woman walked down the street. Her dark blue dress shined in the dull gray light as she walked up the steps into the Grand Hotel, winking at the doorman. He was young, a little handsome, but she knew better. There was only one man she loved, and it defiantly wasn't anyone like him. He was different than any other man she's ever met.

She stepped through the door, walking towards the front desk. Her heels clicked against the smooth surface of the marble floor, polished enough to see one's own reflection. The warm golden light of the chandelier was welcoming, and its glow complimented the woman's complexion perfectly. But she wasn't here to be beautiful- well, she was, in a way. She walked up to the desk, clutching a deep blue handbag that matched her dress. The man at the desk looked up at her, obviously liking what he was seeing.

"Well, hello madam. May I have your name, please?" He asked. The man was flirting, like any other. But he was a lot older that the young man she saw.

The woman only smirked, and that's when the man recognized her. He looked a tad surprised, and a bit embarrassed.

"My apologies, madam. He's in room 394." He grabbed a key from under the desk, and handed it to her. There was a small number attached to it, reading R.394. "He's on the 4th floor."

"Thank you." She turned, and walked towards one end of the double staircase, and walked up and up. When the woman came to the fourth floor, she walked down the hallway. She came to the large double-doors at the end of the corridor. It was pretty quiet down this particular hallway, not a single sound could be heard, with the exception of the woman's heels clicking against the floor.

The woman inserted the key into the lock of one of the doors, turning it with a click! She slowly opened the door, walking into the large suite. The main room was very large, with a large fireplace ablaze opposite of the door. Furniture was placed perfectly, giving it the luxury that gave the Grand Hotel its name.

But there was something incorrect. The place, how lovely it looked, gave off an eerie feeling. The woman looked over, and there she saw him. He was sitting in a large chair, near the fireplace, with his back to the door. The top of his head was barely visible over the top of the tall chair, but his gloved hand was clearly visible on the arm of it. He spoke with a voice like true intelligent evil.

He nodded as well. The man paused, giving the room a chilling silence. "Good. I heard there was a little, hiccup, in the plans. Isn't that correct, Miss Adler?"

She looked at the man, confused. She tried to keep professional as she asked, "What do you mean?"

"I suggest you take a trip to Baker Street. I believe our Doctor has lost his touch…"

~?~¿~?~

Mycroft Holmes walked down the hallway of his country home, signing papers as he went. For the record, he was completely nude, but no one else in the house seemed to take any notice. Well, Stanely, the Holmes family butler, might have, but he was too slow or too old to say anything.

The Goverment worker walked into the man room, dodging past an unexpected Stanely carrying a tray of tea.

"Ah, Stanely! Tea time already?" Mycroft said with a smile. He snatched his pocketwatch that happened to be sitting beside a lamp.

"Sir." A voice said by the door.

Mycroft turned to his colleague, James. He was silent most of the time, and was the only one who would listen to Mycroft's constant talking. "Ah, James. What is it?"

"An emergency telegram, sir." The thin man held out a small piece of paper.

Mycroft walked over, and took it. He opened the telegram, reading the ink black words. His usual smirk faded as his eyes scanned the paper.

He looked up at his colleague, and said, "Get a cab over here. We're going to London."

Well, there it is. It will be only a bit before chapter 3 is up. Do you think "News" Is a good name for this chapter? Post a review about it!

Thanks,

Fox~