(This is part 2 of "Date at a Crime Scene!)

Sherlock smirked at his phone as he read your reply. "I'll meet you there." You'd very quickly learned that Sherlock preferred texting over all other means of communication and that he hated not being responded to when it involved a case, like now. Sherlock grabbed his own taxi and headed toward the crime scene.

Once there, he glanced around. When he didn't see you, he shrugged a bit. Your taxi was probably caught in traffic so he decided to get started without you. It didn't take him long to figure out a multitude of things, as usual, but you still hadn't shown up. You never texted him either. That was unlike you. You never just left him like that. Still, Sherlock was finished the crime scene and needed a quiet place to drift into his Mind Palace to think. With that in mind, Sherlock headed back to 221B Baker Street.

However, when you hadn't texted or come to see him after another twenty-four hours, Sherlock's mind began to betray him. Even as he sat in his Mind Palace, all he could think of was you. Where were you? Why hadn't you texted or even called? He opened his eyes just as the door was opening, revealing John.

"G-Have you even left the flat today?" John asked, reaching up to grab a piece of paper taped to the door. "How very primitive," Sherlock noted in his head. John scanned the paper quickly and his face turned even more pale. "Sherlock...you might want to read this." Something about the tone of John's voice had Sherlock rising gracefully from the floor and hurrying over to his friend. His eyes quickly scanned the paper as a frown made its way to his lips.

It's time to play a game. Can the great Sherlock Holmes follow instructions and find out who I am and what I want before it's too late? Call Lestrade. He has something for you. You can, of course, chose not to play. However, if you don't, I start sending the girl back to you in pieces. She really is quite pretty. It would be a shame to mar her face.

Sherlock's phone was in his hand before he even realized it and he was dialing Lestrade's number. The moment the DI answered, Sherlock demanded whatever it was the kidnapper had left for him. A burner phone. The game was on and it was a race to see if Sherlock could save you.

*time skip*

Another clue. Sherlock felt his anger rising. Every clue lead to another and then another with no hint as to whether he was closer to finding you or not. One giant circle. The normally emotionless Sherlock, was beginning to lose his grip. Rage threatened to spew from him like magma from a volcano if he didn't find you soon. To make matters worse, he couldn't understand why!

"Because you like her, you prat!" John shouted at him. It was then Sherlock realized that he'd been thinking out loud yet again. "Really, Watson, name-calling is rather childish, don't you think?" John didn't look impressed or even remotely chastised. "Sherlock, it's obvious you have feelings for Y/N. Why don't you just admit it? Instead of treating this like any other case, admit to yourself that it isn't. Maybe then you'll realize that you've been going circles and figure out where she is!"

Sherlock froze. Circles. A smirk made its way to Sherlock's face. "Watson, once again you have proven that even the most common of men can have a stroke of genius once in a while." Without another word, Sherlock grabbed his scarf and ran from the flat leaving behind a very insulted and confused John Watson.

On the way, Sherlock texted Lestrade. A part of him knew he would need an ambulance nearby once he found you. Now, thanks to John, he knew where to look. No sooner did the taxi pull up was Sherlock out of it. He pushed his way in and up to where he knew you would be and sure enough, the door to the room was slightly ajar.

"Look here, he figured it out!" a taunting voice greeted upon Sherlock entering the room. You glanced at Sherlock and he could see you were trying not to cry. Whether they would have been tears of joy or pain, Sherlock was unsure for once in his life. He couldn't stand to see you looking at him like that, so he focused his attention on your captor.

"It was rather simple, really. A circle. That's what you wanted. You wanted me to think in circles. All your clues kept leading me that way until we came to right here, the very place Y/N and I solved our first mystery together. Full circle." The captor clapped their hands and laughed. "Very good, Mr. Holmes! Very, very good! But you forgot something...why did I do it?" Sherlock smirked.

"I haven't forgotten anything. You can come in now," he called out to someone outside the room. The door opened once more to reveal the final member of the party. "Hello, brother mine," Sherlock greeted, barely looking over his shoulder at Mycroft.

"Brother?! I was held hostage for days by your brother?!" you shouted and Sherlock could see just how angry you were. The ferocity behind your gaze was enough to make most people scamper away like rats. "I'm afraid so, Y/N." You swung your glare over to Mycroft. "Let. Me. Go. Now!" you ordered and Mycroft nodded to his lackey.

As soon as you were free, you marched straight over to Mycroft and slapped him across the face. "I don't know what sort of sick game you're playing at, but if you EVER involve me or try to hurt Sherlock again I swear not a single person in the entire country will be able to find your body!" you threatened. Mycroft kept his composure, but Sherlock couldn't fight the smile on his face.

"I apologize, Miss Y/L/N. I assure you that you were never in any danger nor did I do this to hurt Sherlock. He needed a case and I needed to know exactly how much the two of you meant to one another. Sentiment, Brother?" he finished, looking at Sherlock. Sherlock merely glanced out of the window. "Well I hope you're happy, Mr. Holmes. I confess. I love your brother and I don't give a damn whether or not you approve."

Mycroft clearly decided that he'd had enough of your berating because he quickly bid Sherlock farewell and turned to leave. He did not leave before glancing at you and saying, "Though my approval is not necessary, you have it. You are...good for him." Then, he was gone along with his idiotic little goon. Only when they were gone did you round on Sherlock.

"You could have warned me about him or something! Anything to prevent a pretend kidnapping! You're lucky I love you or I swear I'd be slapping you as well!" Sherlock wanted to laugh, but couldn't. That was the second time you'd said you loved him in less than five minutes. Not to mention the fact that you appeared even more attractive with that fire burning in your eyes.

"Are you going to say anything?" you asked. Sherlock took a step closer to you and gently grabbed your face in his hands. You froze and your eyes widened in surprise. Sherlock was not a very physical person most of time and you knew this. "Now you shut up," he commented with a chuckle, earning a glare from you. Your eyes stared into his blue ones for a moment as you waited to see what he would do. He began leaning in, but before he could go further, the door burst open once more.

"Sherlock, did you find- Oh! You did. Am I-Am I interrupting?" Lestrade asked. Sherlock rolled his eyes and pulled back. "Clearly." He grabbed your hand and pulled you from the room to have you checked out by the medics. As you followed him out, you kept wondering what it would have felt like if he had kissed you the way you'd hoped.