Later that morning, the three were sat around the table in the living room. John was finishing his breakfast, Elizabeth was drinking her coffee and Sherlock read the newspaper. Mycroft stood by the fireplace, facing them all, a frown on his face after having been caught up with the situation regarding the laptop.

"How couldn't you have known?" Mycroft aimed this question at Sherlock, "Having explained it to me, it sounds too obvious to have missed."

Sherlock scowled at the slim man but said nothing. As if it wasn't enough that he had been blaming himself but now his brother was blaming him for the mishap too. Elizabeth couldn't stand it but still didn't speak, just glared at Mycroft as Sherlock had been doing. John couldn't have this conversation again though.

"Look, Mycroft, we've already discussed it. Emotions were running high at the time and we were all distracted with one thing or another. It was an easy mistake to make." He tried to argue for his friends.

"In that case I understand it was an emotional error on Sherlock's part," He paused, staring at his brother with fire in his eyes, "Which rarely happens with you, Brother Mine."

Sherlock said nothing but his jaw notably clenched when Mycroft accused him of being too emotionally unfit to have noticed an obvious thing.

Mycroft then looked to Elizabeth, "So rarely, in fact, that I think someone intended him to miss it."

Elizabeth retaliated, a stormy look in her eyes, "I didn't lie about it. I didn't even know about it until I found it last night."

"And what caused you to think of such a thing only last night?"

Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak but decided against it. Internally, she panicked, knowing that lack of speech would seem suspicious. Thinking back to the dream she had in which Mycroft also had a part in accusing her, she felt the tears prick her eyes. She faced away from Mycroft.

At seeing this, John answered for her, "Think about it, Mycroft. Why would she purposefully endanger her contact - her friend - like that?"

"Do you ever think that perhaps she lied to you, John? Perhaps, somehow Moriarty contacted her and also tasked her with infiltrating us. Perhaps on the night of the masquerade, it was her job to rat out traitors to Mr Moriarty's cause."

Sherlock stood suddenly, shouting, "That's enough, Mycroft! Clearly, Brother, your deductive skills are failing because Elizabeth hasn't been lying to us. And here I thought you had the higher IQ out the both of us!"

Mrs Hudson could be heard at the door, concerned for everyone's wellbeing in the room, "Is everything alright? I heard shouting. You're not all fighting are you?"

She gingerly made her way into the room, looking around at the state of the apartment. While she wasn't a housekeeper, she did a lot of housekeeper-like things. Elizabeth found it quite sweet of her really.

"Everything is fine, thank you, Mrs Hudson." Sherlock answered in an attempt to calm his rage.

The elderly woman nodded and made her way to the kitchen. Of course, she was curious as to what was going on, so why wouldn't she find a way to listen?

Everyone in the room remained still. John was stunned by Sherlock's outburst. Elizabeth felt the guilt twist her stomach for having lied about the phone call, Irene and her meeting with Jim. And here Sherlock was, defending her, and yet clearly it was his own deductive skills that were failing. Mycroft stood his ground, albeit a little surprised that his brother had yelled at him like he did, but also because of how he had defended her.

He spoke clearly and calmly, "I do have the higher IQ, Sherlock." Mycroft said with such a glare that Sherlock slowly sat back down in his seat, "And that gives me the right to play devil's advocate seeing as she has successfully pulled the wool over both of your eyes."

"What can I possibly do to make you trust me?" Elizabeth croaked, still not looking at Mycroft.

"Don't worry, Miss Parrish, you'll get your comeuppance soon enough but until then," He took a breath, "Onto the matter of the photographs."

Sherlock picked up his paper again, "The photographs are perfectly safe."

"In the hands of a fugitive sex worker?"

"She's not interested in blackmail. She wants...protection, for some reason." Sherlock paused, "I take it you stood down the police investigation into the shooting at her house?"

"How can we do anything while she has the photographs? Our hands are tied."

Trying to lighten the atmosphere, Sherlock wittily responded with, "She'd applaud your choice of words."

Although small, the three shared a smile with each other.

"You see how this works? The camera-phone is her get-out-of-jail-free card. You have to leave her alone. Treat her like royalty, Mycroft."

"Though not the way she treats royalty." Came John's snide remark.

Elizabeth almost choked on the sip of coffee she had taken when the sound of a woman's erotic moan broke the tension of the atmosphere even more. Her cheeks went bright red even though she had not made said sound.

She gingerly questioned, "Uhm, what was that?"

"Text." Sherlock said with a profound sense of calmness in his tone.

He put the paper down and grabbed his phone on the table. He kept a steely gaze the entire time, not daring to let on what the message could be. And without responding, he set it down again.

John asked, "But what was that noise"

Of course, Sherlock wasn't going to let himself be questioned about the matter so he promptly changed the subject, "Did you know there were other people after her too, Mycroft, before you sent us in there? CIA trained killers, I think."

"Yeah. Thanks for that Mycroft." John said, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

"John and I almost had our heads blown off because of you." She dared to look at Mycroft with a scowl, "I wonder how helpful I would have been with my brains splattered on the floor."

Mycroft glared back at her, until she faced away from him again.

Mrs Hudson overheard this though and brought out a fresh cup of tea for John and coffee for Elizabeth (who both thanked her), "It's a disgrace, sending your little brother into danger like that. Family is all we have in the end, Mycroft Holmes."

He rolled his eyes, "Oh, shut up, Mrs Hudson."

In unison, the three scowled at him and yelled, "Mycroft!!!"

Feeling the heat of the spotlight on him, Mycroft said, "Apologies."

"Thank you." Mrs Hudson said, as she cleared up the plates on the table.

Yet, Sherlock ruined the protective moment with, "Though do in fact shut up."

"Sherlock!" Elizabeth respected the old woman and knew Sherlock did too, but still some of the things he said were out of line.

They shared a look and his gaze seemed to reflect an apology.

Again, the erotic moan was heard and very quickly, both thief and detective looked away from each other.

"Oh, it's a bit rude, that noise, isn't it?" Mrs Hudson called from the kitchen.

Again Sherlock ignored the question, "There's nothing you can do and nothing she will do, as far as I can see."

Mycroft replied, "I can put maximum surveillance on her."

"Why bother? You can follow her on Twitter. I believe her username is The Whip Hand."

"Yes. Most amusing." A sarcastic smile crossed his lips. Then his phone rang, drawing his attention out of the room, "Excuse me. Hello?"

Once Mycroft was stood outside the flat the detective's two friends looked between each other and Sherlock.

"Why does your phone make that noise?" She asked.

"What noise?"

"That noise, the one it just made." John elaborated.

"It's a text alert. Means I've got a text." Sherlock said, clearly not wanting to get into it.

"Well, yeah, obviously." Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

"Hm...your texts don't usually make that noise." John noted, knowingly.

"Well, somebody got a hold of the phone and apparently as a joke, personalised their text alert noise."

"I did notice your coat was back." Elizabeth nodded to the coat stand.

"Hm...so every time they text you - "

A well-timed suggestive text alert sounded once again.

"It would seem so."

"Could you turn that phone down a bit?" Mrs Hudson asked politely, "At my time of life it's..." But she didn't care to finish her sentence.

So, Irene truly hadn't lied about bringing his coat back. That made her happy to know she cared and yet she found the jealousy rising in her. Not because of the text alert noise, Gosh, no. But more so because Irene had seemed to have flirted with him a lot back at the house and was now sending him messages. Why did she care though?

"See, I'm wondering who could have got hold of your phone. It would've been in your coat."

Sherlock raised the newspaper to hide his face from the army doctor, "I'll leave you to your deductions."

John looked down at his plate, "I'm not stupid, you know."

"Where do you get that idea?"

"Well, John's definitely smarter than you are in some areas." Elizabeth commented, earning a peek from the detective over the top of the paper.

"Thank you, Elizabeth." John appreciated the recognition of his intelligence.

He couldn't argue with her. Elizabeth was right. John was definitely more of a people person than he and that took emotional intelligence. Something Sherlock knew he, himself, lacked in. He would compliment him for it but he didn't know how.

Mycroft strolled back into the room, a serious look on his face as he finished his call, "Bond Air is go, that's decided. Check with the Coventry lot. Talk later."

This line caught both Sherlock's and Elizabeth's attention. They couldn't help it being the nosey personalities that they were.

"What else does she have?" Sherlock asked, dropping his newspaper onto the table, "Irene Adler. The Americans wouldn't be interested in her for a couple of compromising photographs. There's more." The detective stood so he was level with his brother, "Much more. Something big's coming, isn't it?"

Unamused by his questions and speculations, Mycroft answered, "Irene Adler is no longer any concern of yours. From now on you will stay out of this."

"Oh, will I?" The line left his lips with an air of aggressiveness.

"Yes, Sherlock." Mycroft smiled briefly, sarcastically, "You will."

Without another word, Sherlock waltzed over to his pretty violin. So be it, if he was not to investigate further. But Sherlock would be lying if he were to say that he didn't want to.

"Miss Parrish, you'll be hearing from me soon."

"Oh, joy..." She muttered under her breath before she took the final sip of her coffee.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a long and arduous apology to make to a very old friend." Mycroft straightened up his suit as he said this.

"Do give her my love." Sherlock began playing his violin.

The tune he played was that of 'God Save The Queen' out of mockery. Mycroft sighed but held his tongue as he walked out of the apartment. Elizabeth gave a quiet chuckle and John smiled at the playful antics of the detective.

Once finished with the song, he placed the instrument back on its stand with care. How he loved his violin.

"What do you think he'll have me do?" She asked the boys.

"No doubt he'll want you to do something dangerous, life-threatenting even." Sherlock stated nonchalantly.

John glared at the detective and at realising how blunt that must have seemed. He tried to resurrect the situation quickly.

"But we wouldn't let anything bad happen to you. I gave you my word remember."

"Mm, you said you'd protect me from Moriarty. Which you are doing. But I don't know if you can protect me from your brother."

"I'll - talk to him. For you. I'll vouch for you." Sherlock said, a hint of emotion in his tone.

It was at this point that Elizabeth turned in her chair to look at him, "Really?"

"Of course." The detective blinked at her, "You're - one of us now."

John was stunned to hear Sherlock say that himself. Elizabeth's heart melted. Of course, it was silly for her to think of it like that but there was a twang of gratitude, albeit mixed with guilt, but she truly did appreciate it. She smiled softly at him.

"Thank you."