I had today off of school, so I went ahead and wrote a whole chapter! I can't wait for later on. I plan on doing some chapters away from the original storyline of Sherlock, but I'm not sure if I should do it after this episode or after the second episode. Anyway, I like this chapter I think. I at least know I enjoyed writing it. Please review!

We burst into 221B. Through our heavy breathing, John begins to speak,

"Okay, that was ridiculous." We leaned against the wall; John on one side and Sherlock on my other. "That was the most ridiculous thing I've ever done."

"And you invaded Afghanistan."

John and I began to laugh breathlessly, and even Sherlock joins in.

"That wasn't just me!" We all chuckled for a few more moments, begining to regain our breath.

"Well boys, I have to say, this has most certainly been the most interesting week in a very long time."
Sherlock chuckles.
"Why aren't we back at the restaurant?"

"Oh, they can keep an eye out. It was a long shot anyway." Sherlock waved his hand dismissively.

"So what were we doing there?"

Sherlock cleared his throat.
"Oh, just passing the time. And proving a point."

"What point?"

"You. Mrs Hudson! Doctor Watson will take the room upstairs."

"Yay!" I smiled and wrapped my arms around Johns neck in a brief hug. John smiled at me, then looked back to Sherlock with a peculiar look on his face,

"Says who?"

"Says the man at the door." Three knocks echoed into the hall. John looked at Sherlock with alarm, to which Sherlock just smiled. John slowly went to the door, leaving Sherlock and I to watch as Angelo delivered Johns forgotten cane. I looked at Sherlock with delighted surprise.

"You knew?" Sherlock only grinned. Suddenly, Mrs. Hudson came out of her flat in tears.

"Sherlock, what have you done?"

"Mrs Hudson?"

"Upstairs."

We all dashed up the stairs and entered the flat, revealing none other than Lestrade sitting ever so casually in one of the chairs.

"Lestrade?" I looked around at the other officers rummaging around the flat.

"What are you doing?!" Sherlock sounded quite angry.

"Well, I knew you'd find the case. I'm not stupid."

"You can't just break into my flat."

"And you can't withhold evidence. And I didn't break into your flat."

"Well, what do you call this then?" Lestrade looked at Sherlock innocently,

"It's a drugs bust."

"Seriously?! This guy, a junkie?! Have you met him?!"
"John..."
"I'm pretty sure you could search this flat all day, you wouldn't find anything you could call recreational."
"John, you probably want to shut up now."
"Yeah, but come on..." They made eye contact for a few moments and John realized the look on Sherlocks face was quite serious.

"No..." I covered my mouth with my hand in shock. Sherlock looked at me,

"What?"

"You?" John finally realized what Sherlock was saying.

"Shut up!" He spat before turning round to address Lestrade again, "I'm not your sniffer dog."

"No, Anderson's my sniffer dog."

"What, An... Anderson, what are you doing here on a drugs bust?" Lestrade looked at me with mild curiosity as Sherlock began to go off on Anderson.

"So, Lucy..." I smiled at him; tilting my head to the side as a gesture of response. "You runnin' around with these two now?"

"Yes," I smiled at the detective who was currently in a row with Anderson and Donovan, "It's quite a fun way to occupy the time, I highly recommend it." Lestrade chuckled; shaking his head in an almost disapproving manner.

"Of course you'd find it fun." He looked at me in a way that a parent would look at a child. His eyes became serious, and I felt the mood suddenly shift. "Lucy-"

"What? What is it? Did something happen? What-"

"Lucy, nothing happened, it's just..." He put his arm on my shoulder to calms me down. His eyes met mine and his thumb unconsciously began rubbing my shoulder gently. "Just...be careful."

"Is that all?" I did a sort of laugh in relief. Lestrade didn't seem very happy with my response. He removed his hand and looked at me with frustration.

"Lucy, I'm serious!"

"Yes, I know."

"You know how dangerous it can get!"

"Yes, I know."

"And your still just a kid!"

"Lestrade!" I yelled and the room became silent. I looked around at them awkwardly and lowered my voice to a reasonable level. I cleared my throat, "Lestrade, I'm 26 years old, I'm not a child. I can handle myself just as well as anyone else, probably even better."

"I know, but-" Lestrade began, but decided that argument was futile. "Just be careful. I know how you can sometimes be..."

"Reckless?" Lestrade sighed. "I'll be fine. No promises on the careful thing though." I smirked. The room was still quiet, watching us. Sherlock studied me with those blue green eyes that could tell anyone's life story, and I wondered what he could tell about me.

"Keep looking, guys!" The room begrudgingly began to search the flat again, but Sherlock was still staring at me curiously. "Or you could help us properly and I'll stand them down." Sherlock snapped back into anger.

"This is childish."

"Well, I'm dealing with a child. Sherlock, this is our case. I'm letting you in, but you do not go off on your own. Clear?"

"Oh, what, so-so-so you set up a pretend drugs bust to bully me?"

"It stops being pretend if they find anything."

"I am clean!"

"Is your flat? All of it?"

"I don't even smoke." Sherlock revealed the nicotine patch on his arm.

"Neither do I." Lestrade pulled up his sleeve; showing his own nicotine patch. "So let's work together. We've found Rachel."

"Oh good! Who is she?" I was happy that Lestrade was proving his usefulness to Sherlock. I would quite enjoy working with both of them.

"Jennifer Wilson's only daughter." Sherlock didn't seem happy with his response.

"Her daughter? Why would she write her daughter's name? Why?"

"Never mind that. We found the case." Anderson pointed to the suitcase in the living room, "According to someone, the murderer has the case, and we found it in the hands of our favorite psychopath."

"I'm not a psychopath, Anderson. I'm a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research." Sherlock turned back to Lestrade, "You need to bring Rachel in. You need to question her. I need to question her."

"She's dead."

"Excellent! How, when and why? Is there a connection? There has to be."

"Well, I doubt it, since she's been dead for fourteen years. Technically she was never alive. Rachel was Jennifer Wilson's stillborn daughter, fourteen years ago." I felt my heart drop. I couldn't imagine what sort of pain the poor woman must of gone through. Is that why her marriage didn't work? I inquired silently to myself. John, too, looked sad. Sherlock on the other hand just looked confused as he tried to understand the workings of sentiment.

"No, that's...that's not right. How... Why would she do that? Why?"

"Why would she think of her daughter in her last moments? Yup – sociopath; I'm seeing it now." Sherlock turned to Anderson with a fed up look.

"She didn't think about her daughter. She scratched her name on the floor with her fingernails. She was dying. It took effort. It would have hurt."

"Well, let's all think for a moment. The victims took the poison by their own will, right? Or maybe wrong... Perhaps they were forced to take the poison? Or we're coerced into taking the poison?" John seemed to follow my thinking,

"Well, maybe he ... I don't know, talks to them? Maybe he used the death of her daughter somehow." Sherlock stopped pacing and looked at John.

"Yeah, but that was ages ago. Why would she still be upset?" The room fell silent. Sherlock glanced around briefly before looking back to John. "Not good?"

"Bit not good, yeah." Sherlock decided not to care and continued to delve deeper into the process of how ordinary people think.

"Yeah, but if you were dying ... if you'd been murdered: in your very last few seconds what would you say?"

"'Please, God, let me live.'"

"Oh, use your imagination!"

"I don't have to." Johns face expressed pain that even Sherlock couldn't misread. Sherlock shifted a bit, obviously uncomfortable with the way Johns face made him feel.

"Yeah, but if you were clever, really clever; Jennifer Wilson running all those lovers: she was clever. She's trying to tell us something."

"Isn't the doorbell working? Your taxi's here, Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson said from the door, but Sherlock was not in the mood.

"I didn't order a taxi. Go away." He continued his pacing. Mrs. Hudson looked warily about the flat.

"Oh, dear. They're making such a mess. What are they looking for?"

"It's a drugs bust, Mrs Hudson." John explained. I watched as Sherlock became deep in thought, attempting to block out all the noise.

"But they're just for my hip. They're herbal soothers."

"Shut up, everybody, shut up! Don't move, don't speak, don't breathe. I'm trying to think. Anderson, face the other way. You're putting me off." Even in a blind rage, he can find a clever way to insult Anderson. I giggled quietly.

"What? My face is?!"

"Everybody quiet and still. Anderson, turn your back."

"Oh, for God's sake!"

"Your back, now, please!"

"Come on, think. Quick!"

"What about your taxi?"

"MRS HUDSON!" Sherlocks rage echoed through the room. Mrs. Hudson scurried down the stairs, leaving the room in silence as we watched the detective.

"Oh." He smiled in realization. "Ah! She was clever, clever, yes! She's cleverer than you lot and she's dead. Do you see, do you get it? She didn't lose her phone, she never lost it. She planted it on him. When she got out of the car, she knew that she was going to her death. She left the phone in order to lead us to her killer."

"Okay, but how?" Sherlock looked at me in confusion.

"Wha...? What do you mean, how?"

"I mean how does that help us find him." Sherlock looked disappointed.

"Rachel!" The room stared. "Don't you see? Rachel!" I raised my eyebrows in question, still not following his complex brainwork. Sherlock laughed in disbelief.

"Oh, look at you lot. You're all so vacant. And I thought you were starting to catch on." He looked at me when he said this. My face began to flood with heat as it turned red. I just gave a small shrug, unsure of what to say. He continued, "Is it nice not being me? It must be so relaxing. Rachel is not a name."

"It isn't? Then what is it?" I crossed my arms.

"John, on the luggage, there's a label. E-mail address." John immediately read it aloud,

"Er, jennie dot pink at mephone dot org dot uk." Sherlock sat down at the computer and began typing in the address furiously.

"Oh, I've been too slow. She didn't have a laptop, which means she did her business on her phone, so it's a smartphone, it's e-mail enabled. So there was a website for her account. The username is her e-mail address and all together now, the password is?"

"Rachel!" I finally got it.

"So we can read her e-mails. So what?" Sherlock was clearly done with Anderson's idiocy today.

"Anderson, don't talk out loud. You lower the I.Q. of the whole street. We can do much more than just read her e-mails. It's a smartphone, it's got GPS, which means if you lose it you can locate it online. She's leading us directly to the man who killed her."

"Unless he got rid of it."

"We know he didn't."

"Come on, come on. Quickly!" Sherlock yelled at the computer, but it did nothing. Mrs. Hudson came up the stairs again,

"Sherlock, dear. This taxi driver-"
"Mrs Hudson, isn't it time for your evening soother?" John and I watched the screen like hawks. Please please please please- I urged the computer to hurry up.

"We need to get vehicles, get a helicopter. We're gonna have to move fast. This phone battery won't last for ever."

"We'll just have a map reference, not a name."

"It's a start!" The screen suddenly changed to a map and began to zoom into the location of the phone. Then, it stopped.

"Sherlock..." John saw it too.

"It narrows it down from just anyone in London. It's the first proper lead that we've had."

"Sherlock!" I said with a bit more urgency. He hurried next to me to see the screen for himself.

"What is it? Quickly, where?"

"It's here. It's in two two one Baker Street." Sherlock straightened up,

"How can it be here? How?"

"Well, maybe it was in the case when you brought it back and it fell out somewhere." Lestrade attempted to help, but was quickly shot down.

"What, and I didn't notice it? Me? I didn't notice?"

"Plus, the murderer called us with the phone." I explained.

"Guys, we're also looking for a mobile somewhere here, belonged to the victim." Lestrade continued the search. I decided to help out and began searching through the topography of books and notes.

"Sherlock, you okay?" I turned to see Sherlock with a strange look on his face.

"What? Yeah, yeah, I-I'm fine." His voice was vague. It was like he wasn't even there, and i didn't like it.

"So, how can the phone be here?" John tried to get answers, but Sherlock was still lost somewhere in the giant brain of his.

"Dunno..."

"I'll try it again."

"Good idea." Sherlock began to head for the door. I definitely do not like this.

"Where are you going?" He didn't even look at me.

"Fresh air. Just popping outside for a moment. Won't be long." John and I looked at one another. John frowned and called,

"You sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine." Sherlock called back, and I watched his figure disappear down the stairs. My eyes lingered there for a moment before giving John a confused look. He just shrugged. I went to the window and watched as Sherlock talked to the fore-mentioned cabbie. I watched as Sherlock got in, and I immediately felt a sense of panic run over me.

"John!" I waved him over. We both watched as the taxi drove away.

"What is it?" Lestrade looked at us with a frown.

"It's Sherlock. He just drove off in a cab."

"I told you, he does that." Donovan turned to Lestrade, "He bloody left again. We're wasting our time!" I didn't really pay attention to her complaints. I was too busy watching Johns face as he called the pink lady's phone.

"I'm calling the phone. It's ringing out."

"If it's ringing, it's not here." I ran over to the computer and immediately began searching again.

"Does it matter? Does any of it? You know, he's just a lunatic, and he'll always let you down, and you're wasting your time. All our time." Donovan began her bitching again (pardon my French) and stared down Lestrade for a response.

"Okay, everybody. Done 'ere." He sighed. The officers began putting things back and retrieving their things. I looked at Lestrade with a pout.

"Not even going to stay for tea?" Lestrade gave a half-hearted smile.

"Nah, I've got some work back at the station." He began to put on his coat, "Why did he do that? Why did he have to leave?"

"I don't know..." I looked at the continually searching computer.

"You know him better than I do." John said. Lestrade scoffed.

"I've known him for five years and no, I don't."

"So why do you put up with him?"

"Because I'm desperate, that's why." I giggled at Lestrades exasperated expression. "And because Sherlock Holmes is a great man. And I think one day, if we're very, very lucky, he might even be a good one." He turned and left. I wasn't really sure what that last bit meant, but I could tell Lestrade liked Sherlock in his own way. With everyone else gone, it left just me and John.

"So Lucy..." I looked up at him and smiled.

"So, John."

"I was wondering if you'd like to get dinner." His voice wavered a bit. I knew he liked me. I smiled at my successful deduction. John apparently took this as a good sign because he too began smiling. Well, I'm pretty hungry... I consulted my stomach. A free meal would be nice, but...

"I need to call my mum first." I remembered that poor mother was waiting for me at home.

"You're mum?"

"Yes. I forgot to tell you, I live with my mother and my uncle next door. I'm afraid they're completely relying on me when it comes to cooking and cleaning, so i need to tell them where the foods located. Mind if I use your phone? I don't have one. I had to borrow Mrs. Hudson's last time." I remembered taking it when we were waiting for Sherlock and John to arrive. Of course I set it back when we... Wait a second... I felt around in my pocket. "Oh, never mind. I forgot, I still have it. Should probably give that back soon..." John gave me a odd look before dismissing it and leaving to retrieve his coat. The phone rang a couple of times before she answered,

"Hello? It's Lucy. Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just spent the day with the new neighbors. Turns out one of them is a detective! Isn't that great?! Anyway, I've been helping them solve a murder all day. Remember those suicides? Well they're actually murders! And I'm helping solve it! Oh, also I'm going to dinner with one of them, so I may be a bit late coming home, there's leftovers in the fridge. What? No, of course not! One second. John, you're not going to rape me cause I'm a young attractive stranger, right?" I asked him from the couch. He furrowed his brows, probably unsure of how to even respond. "He says no." John put on his jacket and flexed his hand open and shut as if he was just now realising that he didn't have his cane. He picked it up from a nearby box of papers and faced me again. Suddenly a beep emitted from the computer, causing John and I to immediately look at it.

"Mum, I'm gonna need to call you back..." I closed the phone and watched as the map zoomed in to the phones location. "John?" He set his cane against the table before picking up th screen and looking at it.

"C'mon." He took the computer with him as he made his way to the door. I grabbed my coat and hurried after him, feeling fear begin to well up in my chest.

We got in a cab and directed him using the computer. I knew something wasn't right. I should've stopped him... I mentally scolded myself as the cab sped down the streets of London. It still wasn't as fast as I would've liked it. I pulled out Mrs. Hudson's phone again and began typing in Lestrades number as fast as I could.

"Hello?"

"Lestrade! Thank god you picked up. I need you to send some officers down to Roland-Kerr College, it's an emergency!"

"Lucy? What's 'appened?"

"I think Sherlock may be in trouble. I've gotta go. Just send some people, and be quick about it!" I hung up.

"Er, left here, please. Left here." John directed. Eventually we made it, but we still needed to find Sherlock. In front of us, there were two identical buildings. I looked at John, unsure of which building to choose.

"Maybe we should split up?" I offered.

"No, what if you find him? There's no way you can protect yourself."

"What about you?" He lifted his jacket a bit and revealed that he had a gun tucked away. I nodded, looking back to the two buildings.

"Right - this way." He chose for us and I followed. We ran through the corridors, shouting Sherlocks name but to no avail. We continued looking through the windows before finding some stairs. We ran up them quickly before continuing the search. Please be okay. I burst through one of the doors and John through another. I gave the room a brief search but found nothing.

"SHERLOCK!" I heard Johns voice echo through the halls.

"John? What have you found? John, what..." I stopped behind John. Sherlock. I felt my eyes widen in horror.

We chose the wrong building.

I found myself running to the window. I banged my fists into the glass, shouting his name over and over.

"Lucy it's no use!" John pulled me away. I felt my eyes begin to well up with tears. My body hurt all over and my stomach felt like it was tied in knots.

"John, what do we do?!" My panic stricken voice yelled. Don't do it. Please Sherlock, don't do it. I could feel my heart beat so fast that I thought i may be having a heart attack.

"I-I don't know." John said so quietly I could barely hear it. I looked back to Sherlock, who seemed worlds away, when I remembered something.

"John, you have a gun." I slowly turned to him. His face immediately turned to fright.

"No, no I can't-"

"John, I need you to-"

"No! I can't kill him!"

"John, please! You're the only one who can make that shot!" I looked back to Sherlock who was holding up a pill to the light. The pill.

John looked at me, then at Sherlock, then back to me.

"Please!" I begged him. Tears began to run down my face. When John didn't say anything, I felt that all hope was lost. I watched helplessly as Sherlock lowered the pill and began to slowly bring it to his mouth with trembling fingers.

"SHERLOCK! SHERLOCK STOP!" I tried yelling again. My throat burned, but I didn't stop screaming. The pill just came closer and closer and closer and-

BANG

A bullet ripped right through the cabbies chest. I turned to see John holding up a gun.

"John-"

"C'mon." He quickly grabbed my hand and put away the gun. We ran into the hall before Sherlock could see us. We didn't stop running until we were far away from the building. Police cars zoomed pass us. My hand was still clasped by Johns. It felt warm.

"Thank you." Johns pace was still quick and frantic despite our distance from the building.

"...No problem. I probably would've done it even if you hadn't asked me to."

"But I know it was hard for you." He stopped. "I know that was a lot to ask of you. It really does mean a lot to me. So thanks." He let go of my hand and turned around. His face looked solemn. He didn't say anything, so I gave him a peck on the cheek.

"Sorry about dinner." He said and I laughed. Another police car whizzed by us.

"I think we should go back and check on Sherlock. It'd look suspicious if we weren't there." John nodded and we headed back. When we got there, the police had managed to close off the area. We reached the edge of the police tape and stopped. I stood on my tippy-toes and looked around.

"He's over there." John nodded towards the ambulance. I smiled at the sight of the detective covered by a bright orange blanket. It looked kind of funny, but I kept my giggles inside. Sherlock began speaking with Lestrade but stopped when he noticed John and I standing there. I smiled and waved at him excitedly. He's okay! He said something else to Lestrade before walking over to us and tossing the blanket in a police car window.

"Um, Sergeant Donovan's just been explaining everything, the two pills. Been a dreadful business, hasn't it? Dreadful." I looked at John with confusion. No she hasn't. Sherlock didn't seem to accept the answer either.

"...Good shot."

"Yes. Yes, must have been, through that window."

"Well, you'd know. Need to get the powder burns out of your fingers. I don't suppose you'd serve time for this, but let's avoid the court case." I smiled. Yeah. He's okay. John cleared his throat and looked around to see if anyone heard.

"Are you all right?"

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

"Well, you have just killed a man."

"Yes, I..." He was caught. I wondered if he would give me away considering I was the one who told him to shoot. "That's true, innit? But he wasn't a very nice man."

"No. No, he wasn't really, was he?"

"And frankly a bloody awful cabbie." Sherlock and I laughed at this before Sherlock began to lead us away.

"That's true. He was a bad cabbie. Should have seen the route he took us to get here!" This time John and I giggled.

"Stop! Stop, we can't giggle, it's a crime scene! Stop it!"

"You're the one who shot him. Don't blame me."

"Oi, you two keep your voices down!" I said between my giggles.

"Sorry – it's just, um, nerves, I think." John said as we passed Donovan.

"Sorry."

"You were gonna take that damned pill, weren't you?" Sherlock turned to him. The question made my stomach drop.

"Course I wasn't. Biding my time. Knew you'd turn up."

"No you didn't. It's how you get your kicks, isn't it? You risk your life to prove you're clever."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you're an idiot." Sherlock smiled.

"Sherlock?" I finally found my voice.

"Hmm?" This time he turned to me.

"Don't do ever do that again." I said seriously. Sherlock stopped walking. He looked confused by my anger, but I didn't break our stare. I didn't smile. I wanted him to know how serious I was. Is this how Lestrade felt?

"I still don't understand where you come into play." He said after a few moments of silence. "Where were you during all of this?" I opened my mouth but no words came out. Should I tell him? I looked at John, who decided to answer for me.

"She was with me."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Actually, she was - uh, she..."

"I told him to do it." I looked down to my hands which had began fiddling together nervously. Sherlock looked at John who nodded. He didn't say anything for quite some time. He must think I'm crazy. I mean, most people do... Probably shouldn't of said anything...maybe by some lucky chance he misheard me?

"Dinner?" I looked up at him. Huh. I guess really did mishear me. But something told me that he heard me just fine considering the fact that we're right next to each other and I didn't mumble. Sherlock smiled at the confused expression on my face and sure enough I began smiling too. But then I remembered.

"Actually, John and I-"

"Are starving." John interrupted. I gave him a look that said 'are you sure?' He just smiled and began walking again.

"End of Baker Street, there's a good Chinese stays open 'til two. You can always tell a good Chinese by examining the bottom third of the door handle-"

"Sherlock. That's him. That's the man I was talking to you about." I did the little Dun Dun DUUUUNNNN in front of me to add dramatic affect.

"I know exactly who that is." Sherlock angrily walked to the man.

"So, another case cracked. How very public spirited ... though that's never really your motivation, is it?" The man seemed almost pleasant.

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock practically hissed.

"As ever, I'm concerned about you."

"Yes, I've been hearing about your 'concern'."

"Always so aggressive. Did it never occur to you that you and I belong on the same side?"

"Oddly enough, no!"

"We have more in common than you like to believe. This petty feud between us is simply childish. People will suffer ... and you know how it always upset Mummy."

"..." What?

"I upset her? Me? It wasn't me that upset her, Mycroft."

"No, no, wait. Mummy? Who's Mummy?"

"Mother – our mother. This is my brother, Mycroft." ...you can't be serious. "Putting on weight again?"

"Losing it, in fact."

"There's two of them?!" I looked between Sherlock and Mycroft rapidly.

"He's your brother?!"

"Of course he's my brother."

"So he's not..."

"Not what?" John shrugged.

"I dunno – criminal mastermind?"

"Close enough." Sherlock grimaced at his older brother.

"For goodness' sake. I occupy a minor position in the British government."

"He is the British government, when he's not too busy being the British Secret Service or the CIA on a freelance basis. Good evening, Mycroft. Try not to start a war before I get home. You know what it does for the traffic." Sherlock began to walk away.

"So, when-when you say you're concerned about him, you actually are concerned?" John asked.

"Yes, of course."

"That's sweet." I smiled, but Mycroft ignored my comment.

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

"He's always been so resentful. You can imagine the Christmas dinners."

"Yeah ... no. God, no! I-I'd better, um..."

"It was nice talking to you!" I dragged John along to catch up with Sherlock.

"Good night, Doctor Watson. Lucy."

"So: dim sum."

"Mmm, I can always predict the fortune cookies."

"No you can't!" I laughed. Can he?

"Almost can. You did get shot, though."

"Sorry?"

"Not you. John. In Afghanistan. There was an actual wound."

"Oh, yeah. Shoulder."
"Shoulder! I thought so."
"No you didn't."
"The left one."
"Lucky guess."
"I never guess."
"Yes you do." John laughed.

"What are you thinking about?" I noticed the smile on Sherlocks face.

"Moriarty."

"What's Moriarty?"

"I've absolutely no idea." Sherlock said it with a cheery tone. I smiled as we continued down the road. Sounds like another case to be solved. I smiled to myself. I was definitely going to stop by 221B more often.

So what do you think? :D I hope you enjoyed. I'm so glad I finished the first episode! Please review!