This one might be a bit graphic. I'm sorry.

(Still Third Person View: )

John returned to the hotel they had stayed at the previous night, pretending to have left something there. As he entered the room, he was knocked on the head unconscious.

Sherlock walked with Alice to a different café, apparently arguing. The café was suddenly cleared out and the two sociopaths were bound and led out of the building with blindfolds.

The three awoke (Sherlock first) and were practically blinded by the bright fluorescent light. They were handcuffed behind their backs to hard, metal chairs in front of a plain fold-out table. The room was a standard grey interrogation type. John dramatically tugged on his restraints.

"No, just... no." Alice whispered to him, shaking her head. Sherlock sat there, seemingly as content as he would be at 221b. There was a mirror on the wall facing them, which they knew was a two-way. Alice and Sherlock acted excellently, not over-selling their scowls or rigidness. John sat like he usually would, not sure how to act like his companions. After a few minutes of assumed observation from their captors, a rather fat, greasy, Italian man came in, flowed by two large men with large weapons. Alice scowled appropriately and leaned forward a bit. The fat man sat across from her (she was in the middle with John to her left and Sherlock on her right) and leaned forward on his elbows. His poor suit coat strained at the seams. Alice smiled smugly.

"Alison White... I've waited long time for this moment." Esposito said with his Italian accent weighing heavily on his English.

"I didn't think I'd see you again, old friend." She replied, not taking her eyes off him.

"Indeed. I assume you have destroyed case?" He asked again, leaning back, this time letting his shirt buttons suffer.

"Molto bene." She said, winking at John. Esposito glanced at the doctor.

"These are your friends?" He asked, the two men that had followed him in coming behind Sherlock and John. Alice raised an eyebrow cautiously and nodded. The crime lord nodded at his men, who unlocked Sherlock and John and forced them to their feet. Alice was sincerely worried, but didn't avert her eyes from her captor. "As you destroy case, I destroy your friends." He said. Alice's eyes widened, as did Johns. She pushed her eyebrows together and sat forward.

"No. Please. I didn't destroy the case. How could you believe that?" She said honestly. Esposito raised an eyebrow and nodded slightly to his men, who had begun to lead her friends out.

"That was much simpler than I thought. You have lost your edge, Alison." He said, smiling. She, with some difficulty, hid a smirk. She feigned a scowl and looked down in fake shame. John and Sherlock still stood behind her. "So where is case?" He asked.

"Pssh. Like you could find it!" She mocked. Esposito's smiled turned into a triple-chinned scowl. Alice winced at the sight. He raised his hand and waved it, and noise came from behind the mirror. "The hotel..." She mumbled. His smile turned into a smirk.

"Again, you may have not. You know what I did." He complimented.

"Of course. That isn't part of 'my edge'." Alice said, wondering how people could be so blind and stupid. He looked confused. "On the other hand, you have grown old and fat and lost your power." She continued. He was very offended, but knew it was true. "So, Dominic Esposito... how much longer will you last...?" Alice asked ominously. He looked startled.

"Out! Get them all out! I don't care where they go or how they get there! Get them out and torture them till they give us the information!!" He shouted, slamming his palms on the table. Alice was forced up by a third man and the three were dragged out roughly. Sherlock and Alice were smiling quite contentedly, while John was panicked; he knew how this felt, and he didn't want to go through it again. He didn't want to see it either. Alice gave him a reassuring look as they were shoved down a corridor that was made from large stones; much like the Tower of London. John cried out when Sherlock was led into a separate room, which amused the henchmen. They spoke to each other in a variation of Italian that neither Sherlock nor Alice could understand, so they began to feel less confident. All three of them were pushed into the room Sherlock was going to go into after some discussion between the men. John seemed relieved, but not much. Sherlock was forced into the chair in the middle of the room and Alice and John were locked onto bars on the wall across from Sherlock. They all knew what was next. The men put down their weapons and circled around Sherlock, who was trying hard to smile. John was pulling relentlessly at his restraints and not for dramatic effect this time. The men punched Sherlock across the face, shouting demands at him in Italian. John could do nothing but stare in horror as they hurt his friend. They began cutting him next.

"Sherlock..." John mumbled, not having the mental capacity to yell. Alice could do nothing but look down, angry that their plan was going accordingly, but very slow. The bomb was supposed to go off by now... Sherlock was getting interrogated for information that wasn't relevant at all; it was nonexistent. When Sherlock was near unconsciousness and bleeding, he was released and locked up next to John. Sherlock looked understandingly at Alice, who was about as guilty as she could get. She was taken next. They shouted profanity-laced demands at her, hurting her ears. They began the process they did with Sherlock, and as they were about to get the blades again, a large explosion rang throughout the walls. It shook the room we were in and the men fell to the floor. Alice got up and took a gun from the tray of tools and shot all three of the men dead. She limped to Sherlock and John and shot their locks. John helped Sherlock out of the room and Alice followed them out. The hallway was covered in dust and fallen rocks from the shock. They picked their way out of the headquarters and found their way outside. It had become cloudy and fog was rising off the water. The smoke from the bomb wasn't helping. Alice pulled out her mobile and called the authorities. The three limped to the edge of the canal closest to the HQ and sat down, Sherlock had let himself pass out on Johns shoulder. Alice leaned on Johns other shoulder and held her right arm with her left. John inspected them for any broken bones and such as they waited for the police.

The plane ride back was more silent than the last. They all sat up silently, thinking. John was thinking about Sherlock and Alice, and having to watch... well, he didn't like to think about it. Alice was thinking about breaking her connection to the detective and his doctor. Sherlock was thinking about somehow getting Alice to stay; she wasn't boring.

As they got off, the rain hit them in the face, and they welcomed it, glad to be back in England. Sherlock had to argue with Alice to get her to ride in the cab with them. She finally submitted and went along.

(John's POV: )

Alice stood uncomfortably in the doorway, with her wet coat on, and refused to come in or at least take her coat off. Sherlock had changed into his pyjamas and housecoat and was sitting by a fire in his chair. His bandages and bruises made him look very irregular.

"Can I go now?" She demanded.

"No." Sherlock commanded. She sighed angrily and shifted her weight onto her left leg.

"Alright, then!" I exclaimed, getting up from my chair. Sherlock looked at me without interest. Alice did as well. "C'mon, Alice. We're going to a pub!" I said, grabbing my coat. She gave a look like I was mad. "What? Why can't we? I haven't been in ages thanks to Mister High-Functioning Sociopath over there." I continued, pointing toward Sherlock as I swung my coat on. "I fancy a pint, and I intend to get one!" I concluded, grabbing Alice's arm and starting to go out the door. She mouthed, "Help me." To Sherlock but he just chuckled.

I hailed a cab and Alice was scowling behind me. We climbed in.

"Nearest pub that isn't complete rubbish!" I said excitedly. She rolled her eyes.

"John, I don't want to go to a pub for you to get plastered!" She complained.

"It's not for me and it's not to get plastered." I argued. She gave me a very sarcastic look. I laughed. "It's for you. I have a feeling you haven't been in longer than me." Her face softened a bit.

"Your right..." She sighed. "Six years. It's been six years. I'm sure that's longer than you."

"Ha! No... It's been nine for me." I smiled. Her eyes widened and she began to laugh.

"I hope we can handle our alcohol!" She laughed. I laughed with her and agreed. We calmed down.

"Why has it been so long for you? I haven't been cos of my service and then recovery." I asked, hoping I wasn't prying. She seemed conflicted, and then shook her head slightly, not looking at me.

"Sherlock already knows..." She mumbled. "Me too. Exact same reason." She said. I was very surprised. She chuckled. "Figured if Sherlock knew, you might as well." She concluded.

"But... if you're 24... Then that's only 5 years since you were 18... What happened?" I asked again.

"Since I was 19, actually. But I was shot in my stomach by a shotgun... and, well... it wasn't pretty. I almost died. But I recovered eventually without any extra affects." Alice explained. "But I actually got a permanant discharge after my leg got shout, right in my knee joint. It got infected and they almost had to amputate it. In time it healed, but I couldn't walk or run properly. I was kicked out and I got pyhsical therapy as a citizen till I could walk almost normal again... That's where I got the limp..." We were quiet for a bit.

"Well! That's why we're here! Let's forget about that, shall we?" I offered in an upbeat voice as the cab stopped. She smiled lightly. I grinned back at her and got out of the cab, holding my hand out for her. She laughed and took it and we went in. It was fair-sized and had a friendly atmosphere to it. We had to walk down some stairs to get in because it was kind of an underground pub. When you entered there was the bar immediately to your left and it went down to almost the far wall. There were booths everywhere, as you would suspect, and the bar was fully stocked. I led her down to the far corner and we sat down on the stools.

"Two pints, thanks." I ordered. The bloke nodded and began. Alice spun around on the stool and leaned on the bar, looking out into the pub. She sighed happily and looked at the people, reading them like Sherlock would if he was bored. The bloke gave us our pints and Alice grabbed hers, not turning back around. "Are you like Sherlock?" I asked, taking a large drink. She smiled at me, still not turning her head.

"In some ways I suppose you could say that." She replied, beginning to drink.

"Well, what are those ways?" I asked again.

"Anything else, sir?" The bartender asked.

"Burger and chips, please." Alice said. I shook my head and the man nodded, heading back into the kitchen. Some light music was playing in the background and it gave the room a very relaxed air. She laughed lightly and quietly, thinking about my question.

"I can read people like he can. And that's about it..." She said, clearly not saying everything she could.

"Okay, prove it." I challenged. She looked at the few people and pointed to a pretty blonde woman and a blonde bloke sitting next to her, looking very confident.

"Tell me what you can about her." She commanded. I looked at them closely.

"That bloke looks like he's trying to woo her, and she looks like an average..." I cleared my throat, not wanting to say it in front of Alice.

"Well, you aren't wrong. But you just pick out the obvious things. You can tell by the quality of his suit he is far above the usual pay of the people here. You can tell by his drink that he's been here a while; it's mainly ice and he looks tipsy. I'd say a couple hours. You can tell by the way he's sitting he is intending on taking that girl home with him tonight; leaned back in his chair, left hand on his thigh, and his legs... like that. Moving on. You can tell by the girl's clothes she is trying to hook up with someone. You can tell by the fact that they don't look fresh that she's been here a while to, also by the various margarita glasses on her table. She is or was engaged, you can tell by the way she unconsciously puts her fingers on her ring finger, as if something is meant to be there or she misses something. You can tell by the way her eyes are red that she has been crying recently. My thinking is that she was dumped by, or left, her fiancée or boyfriend and came here to forget... at least for the night. That man saw an emotionally unstable female and went in... And there you go." She said the last bit as they got up and got their coats, leaving. I was smiling stupidly as she turned back around and began to eat her meal.

"You are exactly like Sherlock!" I exclaimed. The bartender came back over before she could argue.

"You know Sherlock Holmes?" He asked eagerly. I laughed a little.

"I live with him!" I nearly shouted. I had drunken most of my pint and it was taking affect on me a little faster than I expected... it really had been a while.

"You're John Watson?" He asked again, amazed. I saluted him awkwardly and Alice laughed. The bloke was amazed and embarrassingly, (for him, of course) asked for my autograph. Alice laughed as I signed his hat, shirt and piece of paper.

"You two get free pints for the rest of the night!" He said happily.

"Fan boy..." Alice muttered.

"In that case I'll have another if you don't mind." I said, raising my mug cheesily.

You can guess what happens next xD But if anyone is reading this I would very much like some comments/feedback please :) Thank uuz