Phoebe was in the kitchen of her bakery, humming as she pulled out two cakes, waiting for the tea to brew.

"You always have too much energy when you work," a male voice came from the door.

"Oh, Peter, is everything alright up front?" Phoebe asked as she turned towards her employee.

"Yeah, it's fine, but there is a man who is asking for you. He seems a little crazy and he was freaking out, I just wanted to warn you about him," Peter said and Phoebe raised a brow.

"What does he look like?" She asked curiously.

"Fairly tall, black hair in a ponytail, and-"

"Tell him to get back here," Phoebe cut him off with a smile.

Peter nodded quickly before going to get the man from the front.

Phoebe leaned against the counter and smiled as Sherlock burst into the kitchen.

"You won't believe what John did! He cleaned my stuff and screwed it all up! He touched my letters!" Sherlock shouted and Phoebe's smile turned to a frown.

"What's so wrong with that? I've touched them," Phoebe said as she watched him pace around.

"But you wrote them! What if he lost them? Or if they got ruined?" Sherlock stopped to look at her with his eyes wide.

"Calm down, Sherly. I'm sure he wasn't doing an harm. He was only trying to help," Phoebe said as she took a step towards her, holding his arms. "Just relax, alright?"

"Why are you so protective over those letters anyways?" Phoebe asked as she quirked her head to the side.

"Because you wrote them for me. I looked forward to reading your letters every Friday night. Though, I didn't like that you weren't around. Every time I tried to write something back, I hated it and threw it away. I figured you wouldn't care for my letters anyway."

"Well, you would've been wrong, but I'm glad you liked my writings. Thoug, you shouldn't get upset with John. I'm assuming you wanted me to make you pie to help you feel better?" Phoebe said as she turned to get the supplies before she was tugged back.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around her and she froze, startled by the sudden gesture. She melted into his hold and wrapped her arms around his back.

"Anything new and exciting yet today?" Phoebe asked as Sherlock rested his chin on her head.

"No. It's been really boring. No clients came in either. I've just been composing," Sherlock mumbled and Phoebe hummed. "I want you to come home."

Phoebe felt her heart pounding rapidly so she pushed away from him, telling herself to knock it off.

"Maybe you can play it for me later. But for now, I can make you that pie and you can wait here if you want," Phoebe said, turning to the counter.

"Sure, why not." He shrugged and leaned against the back wall, watch as Phoebe got to work.

-

Another week passed and Sherlock was sat at the table with Phoebe and John. He was reading a letter that he had received that day while the other two ate breakfast.

"Come, Sherlock. You should eat. Phoebe put in all this work for us," John said as he looked at the detective.

"Oh, I'm fine. I ate too much last night," Sherlock said as he looked at the envelope of the letter he had received. "You've put on some weight. About half a stone, I'd say."

John stiffened and Phoebe sighed before there was a knock at the door.

"Sherlock, you've a visitor," Miss Hudson said as she opened the door.

Sherlock remained uninterested as he studied the letter.

"I'll come down," John said as he stood up. Phoebe was about to join him, but John held out a hand. "Don't worry. Stay here with Sherlock."

Phoebe looked over at the detective and sighed. "You know, you could be nicer."

"I only speak truths, Phoebe. Doesn't matter if it's nice or not. This letter though. It makes me wonder," Sherlock muttered as he held it up into the light of the window.

"I'm not sure but-" Phoebe started.

"Shh!" Sherlock paused when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the door.

Phoebe was confused and about to ask when the door was kicked open. She shrieked as the man at the door drew his gun.

Sherlock ran towards the sofa, launching himself over it with ease, throwing a kick which the man easily dodged. He threw a few punches before getting frustrated and dropping to the ground and throwing his leck up in a swing kick.

The man merely smirked and blocked his face from the kick. He pushed Sherlock off of him before firing, straight at his forehead.

Phoebe watched at Sherlock fell backwards. She almost had to hold back a giggle as she began to stand up.

John walked in and gasped in absolute horror. "Sherlock!" He ran over to the man's side, only for him to sit up with a groan.

He felt his forehead, paint transferring to his fingers. The man stood there laughing at the sight before him.

"Todays test makes it six hundred seventy-three to nothing. Sherly, I am left to wonder, how much longer until you make me taste defeat?" The man asked and Phoebe held up a hand to her lips as she giggled.

"Soon enough, brother!" Sherlock spat.

"This man is your brother?!" John questioned, still in shock over the whole ordeal.

"Lamentably so. My elder brother, Mycroft," Sherlock replied with a grimace.

"Delightful, isn't it? A new revolver developed by my unit that shoots paint," Mycroft spoke as he looked at his gun.

"Who cares?! Get out!" Sherlock shouted, his glare hardening.

"Be nice, Sherlock, really," Phoebe spoke and Mycroft turned his head.

"Phoeboletta?" Mycroft questioned and she smiled.

"The one and only," Phoebe spoke with a bright smile. "It has been quite some time, hasn't it?"

"I wasn't aware that you were here. I didn't see your family carriage," Mycroft said as he put his gun away while she stood before him.

"I live here. Well, in the flat downstairs. I've been here for four months now," Phoebe replied as she moved to sit back down at the table.

"And what's it like to live with our dear, Sherly? Hellish, I imagine," Mycroft joked as he grinned at his brother.

"Well, we're never bored," Phoebe answered and Sherlock huffed as he sat away from the table at his desk.

Miss Hudson came in and poured tea for the three sitting at the table, smiling at she put down the teapot.

"Pardon me. Are you truly Sherlock's brother?" John questioned, still in disbelief.

"Indeed," Mycroft confirmed. "My brother and I have taken very different paths in life."

"What do you want? Did you come here solely to make snide remarks." Sherlock turned towards his brother with an annoyed look in his eyes.

"I'm actually here to give a warning, Sherlock." Mycroft stood, making his way towards his brother. He stuck his finger to his little brother's forehead before saying, "beware of women, desr brother."

Sherlock was taken aback, looking at his brother with what Phoebe could only describe as disgust.

"Seeing through the deciets of the fairer sex is even more difficult than tracing the threads of a crime. Not all women are as virtous and honest as Phoeboletta." He moved away from Sherlock and walked towards the door, taking his cane from Miss Hudson.

Phoebe stifled a laugh from the look of utter confusion on Sherlock's face.

"Well, I shall be taking my leave, now. Reflect upon my advice, Sherly. And Phoeboletta, perhaps we could go for dinner sometime. I'd like to see how you've improved in the years since we last met," Mycroft said as he turned to leave.

"Goodbye, Mycroft," Phoebe said with a wave.

John looked over at Sherlock who suddenly looked ill.

"You're looking rather pale. Are you feeling poorly?" John asked as he walked towards the window.

"Mycroft has that effect on me," Sherlock admitted as he pulled out a cigarette.

"That carriage he's travelling in," John started as he looked back towards Sherlock. "Is he employed in some government office?"

"Some office? It's not nearly so simple," Sherlock said, taking a puff of his cigarette. "No, he is the government in the flesh."

"He sounds important," John said and Phoebe hummed.

"He's certainly the type to hold such a position," Phoebe remarked and Sherlock groaned.

"Let's stop talking about my brother, 'kay? Instead, look at this," Sherlock said as he diverted John's attention to the letter he had been looking at earlier which he pulled out of his jacket pocket. "Read it."

"It appears undated without signature or address," John noted as Phoebe sat back down at the table. He opened the letter and began to read it out loud. "There will upon oyu tonight, at a quarter to eighto'clock, a gentleman who desires to consult you upon a matter of the very deepest moment. In your chamber then at that hour, and do not be a miss if your visitor wear a mask."

"Your thoughts, John?" Sherlock asked.

"First, this handwriting is that of a man. Further, I believe him to be a well educated man of means. This particularly find paper cannot be had for less than half a crown, I'd say," John replied, looking up at Sherlock whose usually impish grin had returned.

"See, you can do it if you try," Sherlock said, holding his cigarette as he watched the doctor. "Now then about the paper. Hold it up to the light."

"Are these the initials to the paper mill?" John asked as he held up the letter to the light streaming through the window, seeing some faint ink that was only now visible.

"The PGt is German for Papiergesellschaft, it means 'paper company'. Eg most likely stands for Egria. A city in Bohemia's German region." Sherlock took another puff from his cigarette and looked towards the door.

"So the man who sent you this letter is a merth German. From the kingdom of Bohemia, is that right?"

"It would seem so. But I wonder what someone from Bohemia could want from you,'. And coming in a mask as well. Obviously it's someone who would be recognizable and he doesn't want the public to know that he is here," Phoebe spoke which made Sherlock nod.

"My thoughts exactly. But for now we can only wait and see. Finally something interesting might happen," Sherlock said with a smile. "I just can't wait."

-

There was a knock on the door that night and Phoebe was the one to retreive their guest.

"Please, come in," Phoebe said and the man's eyes seemed to widen slightly from under his mask. "They'll be waiting for us upstairs. Follow me."

The man nodded and followed Phoebe up to the living room of 221B where John and Sherlock were already sat in two of the three chairs opposite the sofa.

Phoebe let the man sit on the sofa before moving to sit in her own chair beside Sherlock that had been pulled from the table.

"I apologize and hope you will forgive me for arriving in this mask," the man spoke, his accent very heavy, though to Phoebe it sounded almost Swiss. He removed his mask and put a hand to his chest. "I am the king of Bohemia, Wilhelm Gottstreich Sigismond von Ormstein and I seek your help."

"You're a king?" John's voice cracked as sweat dripped from his temple.

"Well that was obvious the moment you walked in," Sherlock said as he ran a hand over his hair.

"Sorry. Under these circumstances, I could not very well send another in my place," the king said which captured Sherlock's interest more.

"I see. Go on," Sherlock said as he leaned forwards while holding his chin between two fingers.

"The whole affair began five years ago. It was then I was staying in Warsaw. I fell in love with a beautiful woman. Her name was Irene Adler," the king said and Phoebe straightened.

"Irene?" Phoebe spoke quietly.

"Yeah, it's all becoming clear now," Sherlock said, leaning back as he waved it off.

"Sherlock, do you know this woman?" John asked curiously.

"I've never actually met her, but she's famous in the underworld," Sherlock said with a bored face.

"Really? But Irene is so sweet. She's one of my good friends. I write to her often," Phoebe said as she looked at Sherlock.

"You've actually met her?" Sherlock questioned.

"Well, yes. I went to one of her shows where I met her. We met a few times after that and then went to dinner together. She was the friend I told you was normally busy," Phoebe explained to which Sherlock nodded.

"Well, regardless, what does this woman have over you?" The detective asked as he looked back to the king.

"She has a photograph. If anyone were to see they might naturally assume we were to be wed," the king explained with a hard look in his eyes.

Sherlock let a laugh bubble from his throat, startling John and Phoebe. "You don't say! I admire this woman's pluck! So she's making you pay for dumping her, is that it?"

"No! Sherlock, don't do that!" John scolded as Phoebe swatted his shoulder.

"Stop being so boarish!" Phoebe glared at him which made him look at her with a frown.

"It just so happens, that I am committed to marry another woman in the very near future. But Adler has threatened to give my dear betrothed the photograph before our nuptial," the king continued, seemingly unfazed by Sherlock's behaviour.

"Brilliant! Miss Adler sounds riveting!" Sherlock grinned from ear to ear.

There was a sudden thump on the table which made the three look down. There now sat a bag of coins on the coffee table placed by the king.

"Three hundred pounds in gold and a note for another seven hundred," the king said which made Sherlock and John's eyes widen.

"Why... that's a thousand pounds!" JOhn squeaked out. "That would pay for our rent for the next decade and then some."

"Here is the woman's address," the king said as he slipped a piece of paper onto the table as well. "I ask you to please retrieve the photograph."

"This'll be fun! We'll get you your photograph back, your majesty!" Sherlock said as he stood up.

"I appreciate the help. I must be going now," the royal spoke as he stood up.

"Right this way," Phoebe said as she led the king out of the flat, Sherlock and John following close behind.

At the door, the king turned to look back at Sherlock. "I am glad to have met you. Goodnight, Mister Sherlock Holmes."

With that, the man was back in his carriage, driving off into the night.

"So, are we getting started?" Phoebe asked as she turned to look up at Sherlock.

Sherlock had a look of pure excitement on his face as he grabbed her arms. "Oh, my dear, I would never pass up this opportunity! A photo hunt with such a clever sounding woman! It may not be a murder or our criminal mastermind, but this is gonna be fun!"

Sherlock pressed a kiss to her forehead before bounding up the stairs to get ready to leave.

Phoebe felt her cheeks heating up and she hugged herself around the waist, smiling as she watched him go.

John looked over at her, seeing the look in her eyes, a light chuckle leaving his lips. "Come on. Let's see what he's got planned."