A/N - Imma just be honest, y'all gonna hate me after this one 😅✌

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Dressed in their best, Sherlock and Elizabeth arrived at Odette's at one-minute-to-six. The detective opened her door and she thanked him, smiling sweetly. Just as their taxi left, another black car pulled up.

"Guess who." Mumbled Sherlock.

And out of the backseat of the car stepped out Mycroft. He, too, politely walked around to open his guest's door. Out stepped Rita, wearing a quaint, long-sleeved, knee length, cream-coloured dress. She smiled widely at Elizabeth. Mycroft gave a tight-lipped smile to his brother.

"Happy birthday, oh tattle-tale of mine."

"Mycroft." Sherlock greeted with a sly smile, "Neither of us were getting out of this."

"Yes, but it was no reason to divulge in little known...information."

"Is it official then?" Elizabeth queried with Rita.

"Not verbally." Dr Rahat shook her head, "But I think the two of us are quite happy to acknowledge a something rather than a nothing. How did your job interview go?"

"She said I could be on the rota by next week."

But at this Rita seemed to frown, "Wonderful."

"I suppose we should head in then before they send out a search party?" Mycroft suggested.

The four travelled into the restaurant, Mycroft explaining the reservation they were there for. Low-lighting created a comfy atmosphere while the candles on all the tables added a romantic element to the event. Dark oak tables and black sofa booths added to the fine dining aesthetic. They were swiftly led over to the booth that Siger and Violet were already seated at. The Holmes parents got up quickly to greet their sons and their respective partners.

"And I believe we haven't met, I'm Violet, dear, and this is Siger."

"Dr Rita Rahat. Lovely to meet you both."

"Oh, Mikey, she's lovely." Violet commented.

"I believe the name you gave me is Mycroft. If you could struggle all the way to the end, mother, it would be greatly appreciated."

"Myc, don't be rude - she's your mother!" Rita scolded him.

Begrudgingly, Mycroft mumbled a quiet, "Apologies."

"Oh, I like you even more now." Mrs Holmes chuckled at how domesticated her son appeared to be since getting a girlfriend, "Please, take a seat!"

And they did as they had been asked, the boys all sat on one side while the girls sat on the other, each facing their partners. Before discussing anything further they all decided what they were going to eat. Once the orders had been placed and the menus removed by their server the group finally conversed.

"So, we all know we are gathered here to celebrate Sherlock's birthday. Does anyone have anything they would like to say?"

"Yes." Mycroft answered, "Why are we here? We never do this. We are all capable of celebrating our birthdays at home - alone."

"Because you have all celebrated your birthdays alone for three years we are making the effort to once again spend time with each other." Violet scolded him.

"I personally think family meals like this are lovely." Rita said with a smile, "Mycroft's just boring."

The government official frowned at his partner, his gaze questioning whose side Dr Rahat was really on. Sensing this unasked questions, she thought her honesty might suffice.

"Both my parents passed away." She answered, "I don't get to have family gatherings like this anymore."

"Oh, I'm sorry, dear."

"It's perfectly alright, Violet. Been quite a few years now. I just thought it might be worth noting that your sons are luckier than most."

Elizabeth silently agreed with this, sharing a look either Sherlock with whom she had already had this conversation. But seeing as nobody else knew much about her, of course the question would be asked to her too.

Siger inquired, "Elizabeth, do you get to see your family much?"

"I think she'd rather not answer that." Sherlock jumped in at seeing her distressed reaction.

"No, no, it's alright - um - my family is - kind of complicated. I don't see them anymore. For lack of a better word to explain the situation, it was toxic."

Violet placed a hand over both of the women's hands and squeezed them reassuringly, "I'm sorry for the both of you. But you will always be welcome in this family especially seeing the significant change in both of our boys caused by the two of you, no doubt."

Each of the women thanked Mrs Holmes, grateful for her comment welcoming them into the family.

"So then, we know what our boys do, but we don't quite know what you both do." Siger moved the conversation along, looking at Rita first, "I understand you're a doctor?"

"Yes. Medical. I work in private health care."

"I owe Rita my life." Sherlock added, giving her a single, respectful nod of thanks, "Without her work I may very well have perished."

Violet looked at Rita as though she were a powerful goddess, "Then we owe you our thanks too!"

"I was just doing what I had been trained to do." She modestly replied.

"That said," Mycroft leaned forwards, resting his head on his clasped hands and looked across his father at Sherlock, "She wouldn't have needed to if Sherlock had just listened to me."

The detective rolled his eyes.

"For once, Mycroft and I agree on something." Elizabeth noted.

Mycroft drawled, "And how rare an occassion that is." Noticing the partment key around her neck, he inwardly grumbled. Why was getting rid of her so difficult? An mean idea popped into his mind and he looked at both of his parents in turn, a sly, snake-like smile crossed his thin lips, "Did you know that Elizabeth was a thief?"

Both of their parents frowned, somewhat disbelieving of their son. What a ridiculous notion when she was clearly such a lovely, well-bred girl. Elizabeth gulped at this statement, visibly uncomfortable and anxious about where Mycroft was steering the conversation.

Both Rita and Sherlock sensed this.

"Myc, don't." Rita spoke softly.

But he carried on, relentless in his intentions, "In fact, the night we met was at my mansion. Dr Watson found her trying to steal government secrets and she assaulted him."

"Mycroft, stop." Sherlock pleaded too.

The thief's chest rose and fell a little faster, her throat drying at the prospect of having to explain this to the parents that had just welcomed her with open arms.

"I just thought that you might like to know that your son is in love with a criminal."

"If you'll - excuse me." Her voice came out in a hoarse whisper as she stood hurriedly.

Sherlock reached out his hand to catch hers but she avoided it.

"Elizabeth." The detective called softly after her, his brow drawing together as he watched her go.

"I'm - I'll be fine, just need a moment."

Sherlock whipped his head back to scowl at his brother, "Why would you do that?"

"Honesty is everything, is it not?" Mycroft shrugged.

"Tonight was supposed to be a happy birthday celebration, Mycroft. You didn't need to go and spook the poor girl like that." Violet scolded her son once again.

"You're not at all bothered by what I've said?"

"Mycroft, there are some things people would rather explain when they are ready." Siger gently elaborated, "Elizabeth barely knows us from a bar of soap. What she did in her past is none of our business unless she makes it our business."

"She made it our business when she broke into my mansion."

The Holmes parents shared a distressed look with each other, unsure of what to make of the situation. Of course they wanted their sons to be happy, but Mycroft's information did make them question Elizabeth - not intentionally nor maliciously but simply out of the parental need to protect.

Rita stood, ashamed with Mycroft's brutal reveal and sent a sympathetic look to Sherlock, "I'll go check on her."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Elizabeth had escaped to the Ladies' toilets, locking herself in a cubicle to try and calm herself down. Mycroft had given her freedom and now he was trying to destroy her relationship with Sherlock. She knew he didn't like her, she knew he wanted her gone and knew he had hoped she would leave once he had freed her. But she couldn't let her love for the detective go.

The thief bit her fist, trying to repress the tears that were threatening to spill. Would she ever be good enough for Mycroft's approval? Her hope was that, in taking down an entire gang network on her own, that had to redeem her in his eyes surely. But would she now ever  be good enough for Sherlock's parents? She had gotten out of there before she could process any look of judgement on their faces.

Swallowing hard, she took a couple of deep breaths. She had to stay calm. She couldn't ruin the night - that's if it wasn't already ruined.

Unlocking the door, she stepped out but froze when she saw the man, dressed in a cleaner's outfit, kitted out with a bottle of bleach in his hand, stood in front of her cubicle door.

"Hello, Lizzie."

*  *  *  *  *  *

Sebastian Moran, the napoleon of crime's right hand man and personal sniper by day (and night) but tonight, waiter at Odette's. He was the one to note down the Holmes party's food and drinks orders. He was the one to point out to the cleaner that Elizabeth had just entered the women's toilets. He was the one that distracted Rita from heading in after her straight away.

"Excuse me, Miss, your food's about to be served." He said, two plates in hand.

Dr Rahat nodded, "That's fine, you can place it at the table, I won't be long."

"Of course, Miss." But as Seb moved he let a plate slip and shatter, "My sincerest apologies, I'll sort this right away and get a new order for your table."

Rita was in shock at what had just happened but the goodness of her heart couldn't refuse to help the poor man. Elizabeth wasn't going anywhere any time soon, she thought, so she crouched down beside the server, hurriedly picking up pieces of the broken plate with him.

"I'm sure you can sort the rest." She nodded politely.

"Thank you."

Seb, like a hawk, watched Rita leave and enter the ladies' toilets too. He hoped Jim had said and done what he had needed to do in the time he had been able to distract her for.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

All she had expected to see was herself reflected in one of the three mirrors. Instead, he blocked her reflection, sick amusement twinkling in his dark eyes.

"What are you doing here?"

"New job." He grinned, showing off his uniform, "Times are tough now that one of my money makers has resigned."

"This isn't the time for joking around. What are you doing here, Jim?"

"It was your birthday recently. It's Sherlock's birthday today. Thought I'd come along and surprise you both with a happy little couple card and gift." As he said this, he pulled a card from out of his shirt and a little box from out of his pocket and held it out to her, "I'll give you a little spoiler - it's a case. But I made it a real good one for him."

Looking at the items she shook her head, "No. I'm not taking it."

"Are you sure? If you do someone might still be alive by the end of it."

"I'm not going to enable another of your twisted games, Jim. I won't."

"I'll just go and give it straight to him then?" He suggested.

"No." She said quickly and then commanded out of her frustration, "Leave. Now."

"Lizzie," He had placed the small square box on top of the card and shook it slightly as though coaxing an animal into a trap, "Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie, little scared Lizzie. C'mon. It won't bite."

"Elizabeth?" The door opened revealing Rita.

Jim took one look at Dr Rahat, recognition flashing in his eyes before his gaze switched back to his thief, his eyes had a cruel, predatory glint in them. He was thinking about all the horrific ways he could make her scream - but he wouldn't. Not unless his Lizzie pushed him to.

"Don't." Elizabeth warned, but all he saw was a challenge, "Rita, please just go."

"No. Don't go. Stay." He said this without looking away from Elizabeth, "Rita, was it?"

"Don’t talk to her, you're here for me."

Jim just flashed that dead smile at her, ignoring what she had asked of him, "Rita, I'm just here to give Lizzie and her Sherlock a belated birthday present. She's not accepting this present, which is quite rude don't you think?" Robotically, he moved his head to look at the doctor who was stood, still as a statue, "Don’t you think, Rita?"

Dr Rahat stepped back towards the door, unsure of how to answer.

"Awh, c'mon, you want to leave now?" He chuckled darkly, "Who am I kidding? You can't leave now. You're here with me and a big, fat, bottle of bleach." He raised he bottle, shaking it, "Flammable, toxic, irritant, burns your eyes."

Rita took another step back and Jim took a step towards her.

"Please don't think me afraid of chasing you through the restaurant just to empty this big ol' bottle over you."

The doctor looked at the thief, each sharing a look of utter terror, each unsure of the other's move. Elizabeth's mind raced: Jim liked games, Jim liked challenged and most of all he liked consequences to actions - this Elizabeth knew. She guessed the consequence to either her third refusal of taking the present or Rita running would ellicit the consequence of bleach thrown over Rita regardless. She remembered that he had stated, with conviction, in their previous meeting that he would never hurt or kill her which meant that the bleach was never meant for her but for whoever followed her in here.

It clicked.

It was planned. Otherwise how else could he have known that she would be here at Odette's?

"Rita, don't run." Elizabeth warned, her voice shaky, "He will do it if you run so don't."

Jim looked over his shoulder at her, a proud smile crossing his lips, as he purred, "Oh baby, now you're getting it, Lizzie."

"No one needs to get hurt."

"And no one will as long as you take the present and card."

"Okay." Elizabeth nodded, "Okay, I'll take it. But then you go and you do not come back here this evening."

"Sounds like a deal to me." He held out the card and present to Elizabeth which she now took.

"Thank you, Jim. Now please go."

Jim smiled as he approached the door. Elizabeth held her hand out to beckon Rita over to her, certain she didn't want her in his way regardless. Dr Rahat didn't hesitate in stepping over to Elizabeth as though she were a bubble of untouchable safety - which in this case, she actually was.

Moriarty paused by the door before he left, "I hope you enjoy it," was all he said before he exited the toilets.

Both women took an audible sigh of relief and turned to hug each other.

"My God, are you okay?" Rita said with a shaky tone.

"Yes. Yes, I think so. That - that was Moriarty."

Even though Rita already knew this, she still played the innocent game, "I thought you said he left you alone?"

"I thought so too. But he's one of those who can never really let go."

They pulled away from each other, both looking down at the present and card with a morbid and yet fearful curiosity.

"What are you going to do with it?"

"I guess open it when Sherlock and I are back at the flat."

Rita nodded steering the conversation back to the original reason why she was here, "How are you feeling about what Mycroft said?"

"Not as scared as I was just now."

"That's a little bit good."

"I guess so."

Dr Rahat began to head to the door, motioning for Elizabeth to follow, "For what it's worth, his parents didn't seem judgemental - more miffed that Mycroft hadn't given you the option to explain."

"That - that is reassuring."

But as Rita opened the door to exit the toilets, the server she had helped stood there with the now open bottle of bleach.

"Surprise." Came his monotone voice as he chucked the toxic liquid over her.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Just as the Holmes family were getting restless of waiting for the two women (their food had been delivered and all were hungry but too polite to start without their guests), there was a dreadful, ear-splitting, agonised scream, grabbing the attention of everyone in the restaurant. Sherlock piped up like a meerakat as he looked across the restaurant, standing when he saw a man run away from the customer toilets.

Fear churned in him.

The detective sprinted over in the direction that the man had run from, seeing the door to the Ladies' toilets stuck open and hearing more tortured crying from inside. When he peered in, the sight he saw made his stomach-turn but he wasted no time in pulling out his phone to call for an ambulance.

Mycroft appeared behind Sherlock, just as he finished the call, and a small crowd of customers and staff began to gather at hearing the continuous awful screaming. When the detective turned to face Mycroft, he shook his head.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry? What on earth are you sorry for?"

Looking away from his brother, Sherlock merely stepped to the side, allowing him past but blocking others from seeing.

"A woman has been griveously hurt. The police and an ambulance have been called and the situation is being dealt with. Please show some respect by heading back to seats!" Sherlock commanded, meeting his parents worrisome gaze before the manager approached him to ask about the uneasy event.

Mycroft was admittedly a little hesitant to peek in, especially when he could hear crying and groaning from inside, but when he did, his stomach turned too as grief crossed his expression.

All Mycroft could manage to breathe was a shaken, "Oh, what have they done to you?"