Phoebe sat in the cab with Sherlock and John as they rode to Irene's residence. She was still in shock, though she honestly couldn't put it past the woman.

Even though she had been incredibly sweet, Phoebe knew that there was more to Irene. She just hadn't expected this to be what more was.

"What's this?" John asked as Sherlock handed him something which caught Phoebe's attention so she looked at the spherical object.

"A smoke bomb, Watson. We're going to make her think the house is on fire," Sherlock explained as he grinned.

"We're doing what?" Phoebe questioned in shock.

"See here, you two, when ann unforseen incident such as a house fire occurs, people instinctively become concerned about what they find important. Don't worry. I've had great success with this trick before!" Sherlock assured them.

"So what's your plan to get inside?" John looked at the detective expectantly.

"I was thinking we could stop a block or two away. I would need you to rough me up a bit. I could act as though I was just assualted with my wife and friend, that being you two. We are just seeking shelter for the night. Phoebe already knows Irene so she would have no trouble letting us in!" Sherlock said and Phoebe quickly shook her head. "I even dressed the part!"

"Uh, no, absolutely nobody is gonna believe that," Phoebe said as she gave him a lopsided frown. "And I'm not posing as your wife."

"Sure she'd believe it! And you'd make a very convincing wife. Trust me," Sherlock replied to which John shook his head. The detective frowned at his idea being shot down. "Well, do you have any better ideas?"

"Actually, I might," Phoebe said as an idea popped in her head. "You have your handcuffs on you, right?"

"Always, why?" Sherlock said, pulling out his cuffs, swinging them around his finger.

"And what do you plan to do with those?" John asked, not liking where this was all going.

"You are going to be our criminal. Since Irene already knows me, it can't be me, and Sherlock need to search the house. You're a criminal who hid the evidence to his crime in her house on a plumbing job and Sherlock is coming to investigate with his trusty partner. How about it?"

John shrugged. "I guess it works. Better than Sherlock's idea."

Sherlock huffed as he looked away, not wanting to admit that he was impressed with her idea. "Alright, we'll do that."

"Great! Then it's settled!" Phoebe placed her hands in her lap with a smile.

-

"I apologize for calling so late," Sherlock spoke as he banded the knocker against the front door of the manor. "This is a rather urgent matter. Please help. I shant take very long."

"You can be more convincing than that," Phoebe said as she nudged him lightly.

The door began to open and Phoebe saw the familiar face of her friend.

"Phoebe? Is that you?" Irene spoke as she laid eyes on the brunette.

"In the flesh, though I fear I'm not here on personal matters," Phoebe said as she gave a smile.

"She's my assistant. My name is Sherlock Holmes and we are currently on a case. May we come inside?" Sherlock asked as he looked at the blonde in front of him.

"Of course! Come in, please!" Irene said as she let them in with a bright smile.

They began walking through the house and Irene had clung onto Sherlock's arm, seeming absolutely infatuated with the detective.

"I thought it might be someone playing a prank on me," Irene said as Sherlock made his way down the halls. "I can scarecly believe the real Sherlock Holmes is in my house."

Sherlock glanced at Phoebe who was on his opposite, giving her slight grimace. She returned a sheepish smile and mouthed 'sorry' to him, seeing that he wasn't too fond of the lady hanging off his arm.

''I am a great fan of yours I'll have you know," Irene continued. "My name is Miss Irene Adler, though Phoebe and I have already met."

"Yes, I was told you two are friends," Sherlock said as he looked down at her, his eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"We are! She's a wonderful woman! I had no idea you two worked together," Irene beamed with a light laugh. "To think my friend knows the famous detective!"

Sherlock nodded and continued onward, confused by her demeanor. He knew what Phoebe had said about her, but the way the king and other sources had made her seem, this was not her natural behavior.

Sherlock searched threw a few rooms before getting to a family room where he began searching through a fireplace with Irene hovering over him.

"You haven't found anything, have you?" Irene asked as Phoebe checked under the cushions of the furniture. "Are you sure that miscrient hid it somewhere in this house?"

"I am. No question," Sherlock said as he turned to look back, momentarily making eye contact with John. "Any moment now. I assure you, I will locate it."

"You give me your word you'll find it? And you're sure you're up to the task?" Irene spoke and Phoebe stood up straight as John set off the smoke bomb.

"You'll never find it now, Holmes! I'll burn it all!" John shouted as he raised his cuffed hands in the air.

Sherlock coughed as he waved smoke away from his face. He quickly looked around, scowling when he couldn't see Irene. He then heard a noise behind him so he turned, seeing Irene holding the photo beside her face, hiding the contents of the photo itself.

"Might this be what you're looking for, Master Detective?" She asked with a grin.

'She has it! That's the photo!' Phoebe thought to herself as she looked at Irene, coughing a bit as the smoke polluted her lungs.

"Sherlock! Have you found the photograph?" John asked as he walked back over before seeing the photo in the blonde woman's hand. "My show! The plan actually worked!"

"Uh, John," Sherlock started as Phoebe gasped.

"Your smoke bomb ruse was perfect!" John said, completely unaware. "A masterpiece."

"Yeah, but behind you!" Sherlock pointed which made John turn. "There's a real fire!"

John let out a yelp of fear as he looked at the blaze. "But how?! It was just a smoke bomb! I thought you said this worked before!"

"It did! But the woman seemingly pulled one over on us!" Sherlock shouted as he pointed in the direction of Irene.

"What a terrible turn of events. Now the photo you were searching for may have been lost in this blazing inferno. And either way, the world's greatest detective will have to answer for this," Irene said as she showed her empty hands to the three.

Phoebe coughed as she held a hand over her mouth. "We should get out of here before all our exits are blocked."

"She's right. Let's go," John agreed quickly and they began making their way through the blazing house.

Phoebe tripped over a fallen piece of wood from the ceiling that was smoldering and she grunted as she started to push herself up. Sherlock quickly turned to help her but Irene beat him to it.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm alright. We need to hurry. Thank you," Phoebe said with a small smile before the two women held each other through the crumbling house.

-

"I am deeply sorry for what happened to your house, Irene. It really was not our intention," Phoebe said as they walked into the living room of 221B.

"It's quite alright, Phoebe. Though I will be needing a place to stay and since you are the ones responsible," Irene said, turning to look at the boys as well.

"You can stay here as long as you need," Phoebe said quickly.

"Wonderful! Now, I shall be needing a place to rest," Irene said as she began to walk towards Sherlock's room. "I think this will suffice."

"Excuse me, but-" Sherlock started to complain.

"That will be perfectly fin," John cut off the detective with a nervous smile.

"I shall retire then. I will see you all in the morning," Irene said before closing the door.

Sherlock scowled as he turned towards Phoebe and John.

"This was not how I had planned it," Sherlock grumbled.

"Of course it wasn't, but it's what we're dealing with now so figure something out. We'll get the photograph. She would never let it burn if she had plans for it," Phoebe said as she looked at him, trying to get him to calm down.

"You're right. I just need to think," he huffed as he plopped down on the sofa.

"Try and get some rest first. We'll figure this out tomorrow. Goodnight, you two," Phoebe said before she turned to leave the flat.

"Goodnight, Phoebe," John said while Sherlock just waved her off.

Phoebe smiled a bit before going downstairs, getting changed out of her tarnished dress and into her nightgown.

Meanwhile, Sherlock made himself as comfortable as possible on the sofa, his legs sticking out over the edge. He had only removed his suite jacket since he didn't currently have access to any of his evening attire.

He groaned as he tried to curl up, facing the back of the sofa, only to flip around after a bit.

'The plan should've worked! She must've planned on us using a smoke bomb, which means she knew about my tactics beforehand. She's a clever one, I'll give her that.'

Sherlock stared at the table, trying to listen to what Phoebe said and get some rest. He knew he would need it if he was to deal with Irene in the morning.

He groaned and sat up, standing to pace around a bit, his mind racing. He set his sights on the mantel, looking at the letters he kept.

He had more in his desk drawer, but these were the ones he read most frequently.

He walked over to the fireplace and untied the stack of letters, grabbing one from the middle of the pile.

He opened it and leaned against the mantel as he began to read it.

Dear Sherly,

I hope you're having fun at university! I'm sure you're finding everything incredibly easy for you so you're probably bored, but I know you always find way to entertain yourself. I'm still working on studies myself. I may not be as clever as you, but I'll get there one day.

I do miss your company though. It's been a long six months and I do wish you could visit, even if only for a day. I wish to know about the experiences you've had since I last saw you. Perhaps we could solve a few more riddles together. I could make you a pie if you'd like or we could cause trouble for Mycroft. I miss the trouble that came with being around you. Every day was a new adventure.

I would say you could introduce me to your new friends, but I know you wouldn't choose to befriend anyone there. You've never needed friends. I admire how indepent you are.

Anyways, my usual update, I finally memorized Beethoven's Sonata number fourteen on the piano which my instructor is proud of! I am taking a trip to France for a week so my next letter may be a bit late, but I am very excited. I've been taking Theo out riding whenever I can. He is a very spritely boy for his age, kind of like you. He reminds me of you in a lot of ways. It makes me wish to go riding with you even one more time.

I don't even know if you have actually read any of my letters, but I do hope that one day you may write me back. Mother asked how you were doing a few nights ago, but I didn't know what to tell her. I assume you are perfectly fine. I know you are capable of handling yourself, but I do worry. I've no way of knowing if you are in good health or not.

I'm out of space for this week, but just know that I wish you well. I hope to receive word back from you soon. Till I see you again, clever boy.

Sincerely,
Phoeboletta

Sherlock smiled to himself as he read the last line. Every letter ended with that line and it never failed to bring a smile to his face.

He looked at the sofa and then to the door before he made a decision.

He put the letter back where it belonged before making his way out of the flat and down the stairs. He opened the door to 221C and took himself to the door of Phoebe's bedroom, knocking on the wooden door.

He heard some shuffling after a moment before the door opened, revealing Phoebe with her long chocolate locks in a loose braid over her right shoulder while in her light blue nightgown.

"Sherlock? What are you doing?" Phoebe asked softly as she rubbed her eyes a bit.

"The sofa was really uncomfortable and I couldn't sleep. Can I lay with you?"

Phoebe stood up straight as she look at him, thinking he was joking but he looked tired. She sighed and looked at the ground. "Sure, come on."

She stepped aside and allowed Sherlock to walk in. She had a big enough bed so they would have enough room and she wasn't too worried about John or Irene caring since she was only being polite. She wanted him to get proper rest and that required a comfortable sleeping situation. The sofa may suffice for a short nap, but not a full night's sleep.

Sherlock got in under the covers and sighed, snuggling into the warmth.

Phoebe sighed and slipped in on the opposite side, facing the wall as she started to close her eyes.

"Phoebe," Sherlock spoke, making her eyes open once again.

"Yes?"

"Can you sing me that Italian lullaby you used to sing me?"

"Sure," Phoebe said after a moment before she sat up.

He turned towards her as she moved closer, allowing him to rest his head on her lap.

Close your eyes

I

know what you see

The darkness is high

And you're in ten feet deep

But we've survived more terrible monster than sleep

And you know I will be here, to tell you to breathe

Phoebe gently pulled his hair out of it's ponytail, combing her fingers through the soft waves of his hair.

Tu sei il mio soldatino

L

a ragione per cui vivo

Non ti scordar di me

Io veglierò su di te

Sherlock remebered the times she would help him fall asleep after he had stayed up all night for nights on end. He hadn't realized how much he missed her fingers in his hair. How much he missed her soothing voice.

Stumbling lost; the last choice of all that you meet

It's the cost of ruling those 'neath your feet

Paths you've crossed, and trust you're trying to keep

You're exhausted, listening for a voice that can't speak

Ma nico, mio caro

Sherlock finally began to doze off, fading into the realm of unconsciousness where he was free to dream to his heart's content.

Tu sei il mio soldatino

La ragione ho vissuto

Non ti scordar di me

Io veglierò su di te

Phoebe smiled as she leaned back, looking down at the man sleeping. She caressed his cheek gently as she admired his features.

She knew she couldn't deny her feelings for him and while it scared her to have these feelings once again, she knew they had never truly gone away. She couldn't imagine herself harbouring feelings for any other man.

So you run; through shadows you roam

Seams undone by the love you thought you could own

But he's just one of many that you might call home

And maybe someday, the bitter will fade from your bones

Eri il mio soldatino

Ora un principe oscuro

Ma anche per te, c'è una luce

Che ad un'altra vita ti conduce

Phoebe sighed softly as she watched Sherlock for a moment, hearing his light snores which told her that he was out cold.

"Goodnight, Sherly," she murmured as she moved out from under him.

She pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead before snuggling back under the covers on her side of the bed.

Her smile never faded as she drifted off to sleep.