Author's Note: Most of the first chapter is dialogue that belongs to the creators of Sherlock. It is the scene at the end of A Scandal in Belgravia.

Chapter 1

Sherlock was seated at the kitchen table at 221B staring through his microscope. He heard the door downstairs open and close, a pair of footsteps could be heard. Sherlock instantly recognized the footsteps belonging to John who treaded up the stairs with a slow light walk in his step.

"Clearly you have news?" Sherlock asked without looking away from the microscope as he changed slides. John had just walked in the kitchen and was holding the file for the Irene Adler case he had just received from Mycroft.

John cleared his throat as he contemplated how best to approach the subject.

Sherlock continued, "If it's about the Leeds triple murder, it was the gardener. Nobody noticed the earring." He continued looking through his microscope, not glancing as John walked into the kitchen.

"Hi. Err, no, it's, um…It's about Irene Adler." John shuffled nervously, unsure of how Sherlock would react to the topic. When it concerned The Woman, as Sherlock called her, there was no predicting how the conversation would result. Sometimes, John believed Sherlock hated Adler. Other times, John believed Sherlock admired her. It was utterly confusing for John, but then again, Sherlock Holmes was a confusing man to figure out.

Sherlock finally looked up from his microscope at the mention of the Woman. His face was unreadable but John detected a hint of interest if it made Sherlock look away from his science equipment. "Oh? Something happened?"

"No, she's err…I just bumped into Mycroft downstairs. He had to take a call."

Sherlock stood up from his position at the table and walked towards John. "Is she back in London?"

"No. She's err…" John gazed at the floor for a long moment trying to decide what to say to Sherlock. He had to say something quickly or else Sherlock would suspect that John was hiding something. John raised his eyes to Sherlock's. Sherlock slightly frowned back at him. "She's in America."

"America?" Sherlock exclaimed waiting for an explanation.

"Mmm-hmm. Got herself on a witness protection scheme, apparently. Don't know how she swung it, but, err, well, you know."

"I know what?" Sherlock inquired.

"Well, you won't be able to see her again."

Sherlock turned away from facing John and back to his microscope, "Why would I want to see her again?"

John smiled at Sherlock's behavior. Of course he would reply with another question. "Didn't say you did."

Sherlock took a second to glance at the bag in John's hands, "Is that her file?"

"Yes. I was just going to take it back to Mycroft." John extended the file towards Sherlock, "Do you want to…?"

"No," Sherlock replied curtly as he changed a slide.

"Hmm…Listen, actually-"

"Oh, but I will have the camera phone, though." Sherlock interrupted, holding out his arm to receive it without lifting his gaze from his work."

"There's nothing on it any more. It's been stripped" Why would he want Irene's empty camera phone for? John thought.

"I know, but I…" Sherlock paused for a long moment, "…I'll still have it."

John could see Sherlock desired the object, but for what purpose, he knew not. Could it be sentiment? But no, this was Sherlock. Sherlock did not care about sentiment. "I've gotta give this back to Mycroft. You can't keep it."

Sherlock chose not to reply but he kept his hand extended and his eyes on the microscope.

"Sherlock, I have to give this to Mycroft. It's the government's now. I couldn't even give-"

"Please."

John looks at Sherlock wondering what to do. It was the first time he heard Sherlock plead for an object that held obvious sentimental value, John knew it now. Sherlock wanted the camera phone because it was the Woman's. A momentum of the Woman to remember her by?

John reached into the plastic bag, took out the camera phone, and gently placed it in Sherlock's hand. Sherlock slowly closed his long fingers around it and put the phone in his trouser pocket. His hand shot back up to the microscope. "Thank you."

John nodded; he raised the bag containing the file, "Well, I'd better take this back."

"Yes." Sherlock agreed without looking from the microscope.

John turns to walk out onto the landing, but he paused before he went downstairs. He wondered whether he should ask Sherlock the question that has come to his mind.

The answer could confirm if what Mycroft had said was true. John turned around and walked back into the kitchen; Sherlock still did not lift his eyes from the microscope.

"Did she ever text you again, after…all that?"

Sherlock paused for a moment, switching slides before he answered, "Once…a few months ago."

Feeling eager for the answer, John asked, "What did she say?"

"Goodbye, Mr. Holmes."

"Huh…" John nodded thoughtfully. That confirmed it then. Mycroft had told John the truth. Irene Adler really was beheaded by a terrorist cell in Karachi. He felt again a slight pang of sadness, knowing that the only woman his friend had ever "seemed" to have taken an interest in was now dead. He shrugged it off and continued back down the stairs to meet with Mycroft.

As soon as John was out of sight, Sherlock raised his head from the microscope and looked across the room. He reached for his own phone that was placed on the table beside the microscope. He picked it up and walked into the living room as he scrolled through the messages he saved sent by The Woman, all of which he has kept. He has re-read them many times during these past months. Imagining her seductive voice speak as he read them.

I'm not hungry, let's have dinner.

Bored in a hotel. Join me. Let's have dinner.

John's blog is HILARIOUS. I think he likes you more than I do. Let's have dinner.

I can see tower bridge and the moon from my room. Work out where I am and join me.

I saw you in the street today. You didn't see me.

You do know that hat actually suits you, don't you?

Oh for God's sake. Let's have dinner.

I like your funny hat.

I'm in Egypt talking to an idiot. Get on a plane, let's have dinner.

You look sexy on Crimewatch.

Even you have to eat. Let's have dinner.

BBC1 right now. You'll laugh.

I'm thinking of sending you a Christmas present.

Mantelpiece

I'm not dead. Let's have dinner.

Then there was the one he sent to her, Happy New Year

At the bottom of the list was the very last text he received from The Woman. It said:

Goodbye Mr. Holmes

Reaching the living room window, he looked down at that final message for a long time before lifting his minty green eyes and gazing out at the pouring rain which washed down Baker Street…and he smiled to himself as he thought back to the events that took place three months ago in a city named Karachi.