A/N - look at our beautiful detective duo ❤

Also holding out hope for Series 5 now because both Cumberbatch and Freeman have recently said in interviews that they are open to the idea, even if it comes back as a special movie insteaddd

Now to wait for Moffat and Gatiss to be like 'okayyy' 😂😭

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Elizabeth made her way into the café just as the last customer for the day was leaving. The current waitress at the time sent her through to the back as she switched the little hanging sign on the door to read 'closed'. Four other women were already waiting in the back with Cleo.

"Right, so then ladies, let's get down to business." Cleo rubbed her hands together as she pulled out a sheet of paper with the layout of the Bank of England on it, "As you know we have a very experienced and successful veteran with us tomorrow night. So, Elizabeth, care to run over the plans?"

The thief felt put on the spot by her boss, "Uh, you sure? I don't want to steal your thunder - "

Cleo laughed, "Steal it, steal away - It's what we do."

Elizabeth nodded and swiftly got on with explaining everything to the girls again. Questions were answered by both herself and Cleo and an hour later they were all confidently content with their heist plans. The thief couldn't deny her own excitement at being able to steal again but she had to remember that this was all to take them down.

When finished, all the girls departed their own way, most of them leaving through the back but Elizabeth and Cleo decided to leave through the front.

"I can tell you'll make me proud on this job." Cleo praised her, "Even after having worked alone for so long."

"Well, you know, I did collab with other thieves in my time. I know how to work in a team."

"And are clearly on your way to leading a team too."

"I don't know about that."

"You did fine taking over from me."

"I don't know..."

As they walked out onto the pavement after having locked up the shop, a land rover pulled up in front of them. The window rolled down to reveal Sherlock and next to him sat John.

"Sherlock?" Elizabeth frowned.

"Hello." He smiled, getting out of the car, only to turn to the frizzy-haired woman, "You must be Cleo, Elizabeth's boss?"

"I am." Cleo nodded, sharing a look with the thief, "Would I be speaking to the famous Sherlock Holmes by any chance?"

"Yes. And I have a request, well, a statement actually - Elizabeth will be gone for the next two days."

"I will?"

"She will?"

"Yes. I understand you may find it difficult to find others to take over her shifts across the next few days so I went ahead and took the liberty to phone an acquaintance." Sherlock's smile never left his face as he opened the back door of the car to reveal another person, "This is Jane. Very good part-time waitress. CV all in check. She understands you'll only require her for the next two days but she is the perfect replacement."

Jane waved awkwardly at the other two women, "Hiya."

"I - Sherlock - " Elizabeth started.

"No - it - it's fine." Cleo nodded, seemingly rather relaxed but her mind was racing, "I'm sure I can trust your partner's word."

"You can but - Cleo, I'm so sorry about this - "

"I did try and stop him!" John called from the front.

Elizabeth looked from Jane to Sherlock to Cleo, shaking her head as she tried to comprehend what was happening. Sherlock looked between his partner and Cleo. Something felt off about this. He knew she wanted to keep the job and so he had found a solution to enable her to keep it and to be able to go on the case with him and yet she still wasn't...excited. Elizabeth was clearly upset and irritated which threw him.

Cleo was irked too - what about the job? What about her brother? But if they made too much of a fuss then she knew he would get suspicious fast and she couldn't have that happen either. How she would explain this situation to Jim, she didn't know - all she could pray for was for Jim to show some mercy with her young brother.

"You know what, you've only been with us for a short time, Elizabeth, but you've worked hard. I'll let this slide just once." Cleo nodded, "I'll accept your replacement but don't let this happen again, Mr Holmes. I have a business to run and I don't appreciate it when rotas are disrupted." She looked to Jane, "Come with me and I can show you the rota quickly. Elizabeth, I shall see you in two days."

Jane stepped out of the land rover and followed Cleo over to the front of the shop of which she opened again. Elizabeth glared at Sherlock as he motioned for her to get into the backseat of the car. The detective's own smile began to fade at seeing the glare she gave him. There was twinge of guilt in his chest for having been so selfish.

Reluctantly, she got in.

"I haven't even packed - "

"I did so for you." Sherlock answered curtly as he got into the driver's seat, "We'll be stopping at a hotel on the way as it's getting dark...we waited for you to finish."

"Ah, no." John said, "While I was sad Elizabeth would not be joining us, I respected her decision to stay. Do not drag me into your plans."

"John, you couldn't have tried harder to stop him?" Elizabeth asked.

"I did try! But you know what he's like. When he has an idea, he'll go through with it because he's Sherlock Holmes and no force on heaven or earth can change his mind."

"I just wanted us to all go and solve the case together..."

The two passengers scoffed, gaining uncertain looks from the detective.

"Let's face it, Sherlock," John said, "We don't solve the cases, you do."

"We're just along for the ride and so you have someone to show off too." Elizabeth huffed.

Silence fell among the three in the car. John was looking out of the window, admiring all the detailed structures that passed them, briefly acknowledging that his part as protector is what actually kept Sherlock surviving every case, while Elizabeth had slumped in her seat, resting her head against the car door. Sherlock was at a loss for words - did neither of them really like case solving with him? And what did they mean by they were only along for the ride? John had helpful input (and particularly helpful actions) as did Elizabeth (who had proved her helpfulness merely months before). He decided to speak up, hopefully enticing his two assistants.

"Devon is supposed to be lovely around this time of year."

No replies from either of them.

"I do value your input...even if it is sparse."

John scoffed.

Elizabeth met Sherlock's gaze in the rear-view mirror, "Just drive the damn car, Holmes."

*  *  *  *  *  *

After they had checked in to the hotel, halfway to Devon, and had brought all their luggage to their two rooms, Elizabeth sat on the end of the pure white double bed in hers and Sherlock's shared room, arms folded across her chest as the detective stood before her, attempting to explain his thoughts.

"I like having you with me on cases."

"Yes, but Sherlock - it was my job! My boss! You can't just come over to my boss and tell her that you are essentially kidnapping me for two days."

"I wasn't kidnapping you! You willingly - even if reluctantly - got in the car." He retorted, "And why do you even have the job anyway? Not like you need the money - "

"But it's something to do! Something that - that keeps my mind off stealing."

What a big, fat lie, she thought to herself. That said, not like she could go and do this heist with them now anyway.

Sherlock stood there quietly, guilt settling into his gut as it transpired that - as John had said to him earlier - this had been a terrible idea. And all because he couldn't think past his own feelings because he was so caught up in the irrational fear of losing her, afraid that she would find something more normal that she liked and preferred.

"Look, I'm...sorry."

Elizabeth sighed. No, she couldn't steal but at least she was still with Sherlock. Always had to focus on the brighter side after all, even if it was a hugely inconvenient situation. There would be more heists, more opportunities to get overwhelming evidence against the gang.

A phone call to Cleo would still need to be made.

Elizabeth looked around the hotel room briefly, spotting that they actually had no milk for tea or coffee, before she stood. Her arms fell to her sides as she looked at Sherlock softly, forgivingly. Tilting her head, she brought her hand up to his cheek, her thumb gently stroking those cheekbones of his.

"I'm - I'm not angry...upset that you didn't run your plan by me first but...I know you had good intentions." She pressed a kiss to his other cheek, a soft frown on her face, "I'm gonna ask for more milk at the front desk."

He nodded and she left.

*  *  *  *  *  *

A biting chill in the air led to her hands pulling her jacket around her tighter as she walked over to the land rover they had arrived in. Elizabeth slipped her phone out of her pocket and rang Cleo. Thankfully and not-so-thankfully to her, she picked up instantly.

"What the hell was all that about earlier?"

"Look, Cleo, I'm sorry, I didn't know he had planned to do any of what he did. I told him that I wanted to stay behind."

She heard a bitter scoff on the other end of the phone.

"Are you alright? You sound - "

"Sound what?" Came her vicious tone.

"Stressed." She paused, wondering if there was something else going on, "Cleo, I know I haven't known you for long but you're not - you're not normally like this."

Silence answered her.

"Cleo?"

"I can't reschedule the heist. We're going through with it without you. There will be other opportunities for you in future."

"I'm sorry again - "

"It's done. Water under the bridge. See you in two days."

She hung up abruptly, leaving Elizabeth staring at her phone. Her thumb briefly slid across the screen to dismiss the caller before she locked it. She stared at the black mirror in her hand for a moment longer. Something didn't feel right.

The thief turned on the spot, slowly returning to the hotel entrance and heading to the desk where she would ask for more milk like she had said.

What she didn't realise was that Sherlock had witnessed her odd phone call from the window of their room, pain echoing in his eyes all the while he watched.

*  *  *  *  *  *

The sun shone high and bright the next morning but a low, rolling mist clung to the ground as it slid across the lush barren moors. That same chill from the last evening remained in the air which merely meant that Elizabeth sat in the back with Sherlock's belstaff draped over her shivery self as she watched the scenery roll on by.

They stopped in the Dartmoor National Park, hoping to get a clearer picture of their surroundings.

John and Elizabeth stood with the map, squinting out at the scenery around them and trying to make sense of the notable places while Sherlock dramatically stood atop a grande rocky structure.

"There’s Baskerville." Elizabeth pointed at the scientific army base far away in front of them.

John pointed behind them, "That’s Grimpen Village."

Elizabeth squinted at the map, "So that must be..."

"Yeah, it’s Dewer’s Hollow." John affirmed, nodding at shady pit of trees amongst the large woodland beside the base.

Elizabeth and John nodded. The thief wanted to get a better look and so turned to climb the rocky formation too. As she got to the top, she stood on the opposite side to Sherlock, taking in the gorgeous park. It was breathtaking, really, definitely a nice break from polluted inner city London.

"What’s that?" Enquired the detective who was gesturing to the fenced off area before the base.

Elizabeth turned after her moment of adoration, walking up next to the detective to see what he was asking about. Once beside him, he pointed to the area he asked about again. She nodded, looking down at John who would hopefully have the answer.

"Hm..." John checked the map then looked through his pair of binoculars, "Minefield? Technically Baskerville’s an army base, so I guess they’ve always been keen to keep people out."

"Clearly." Said the detective.

*  *  *  *  *  *

Grimpen village was a quaint little place where most of the buildings appeared to be constructed from a local type of grey sandstone. It was a pretty aesthetic, a natural beauty. Elizabeth thought she wouldn't mind retiring to some place in the country like this when she was older. Retiring from what though? Stealing? Or crime solving?

Once Sherlock parked, the three got out of the car and approached a small pub, passing a small group of tourists on the way. The speaker stood by a sign saying 'beware the hound'. There was their lovely boom in tourism coming to fruition, Elizabeth thought as they strolled on past, her hands in her jacket pockets.

As they continued past the group, Sherlock turned his coat collar up, earning looks from John and Elizabeth who walked either side of him. The thief smirked at John but they both wordlessly agreed to say nothing.

"It's cold." Sherlock said rather casually, having felt their judgement.

*  *  *  *  *  *

In the pub, they met with a very cheery owner. Elizabeth had a quick peer around the pub to see if there were any free tables but could find none and returned to John at the bar. Sherlock had a longer, more curious nose around.

"Eh, sorry we couldn’t do a double room for you boys."

"That’s fine." John looked at Elizabeth and back at the owner, "We-we’re not..."

"Oh right - is it you two that's together?"

"No - no. Me and him." Elizabeth gestured to the wandering detective behind her, "I do think they make a cute couple too though." She smirked, earning a little chuckle from the owner as she nudged John playfully.

"There you go." John nodded, handing over the money.

"Oh, ta. I’ll just get your change."

"Ta."

The owner handed the change back over to John, "There you go."

"Sorry, could I get some water too, please?" Elizabeth asked politely.

"'Course, no problem." He turned around to pour a glass and then handed it back to her, "For the lady."

"Thanks." She turned to John, "I'm gonna head outside."

John nodded and watched her go, as did Sherlock who watched from the entrance to the left side of the pub. His frown could tell anyone who saw him that he was questioning his partner. Who had she phoned last night? He went back into the left wing of the pub and paused by a now empty table, peering out the window at her as she sat against a picnic table and drew out her phone from her pocket.

Having been worried about Cleo's reaction last night, she just wanted to give her a quick check-up. So yeah, Cleo was a 'bad person' who thieved and ran a brutal all-female gang, but she was still human. Yes, Elizabeth wanted to take down her gang but nobody as level-headed as Cleo should have sounded so irrationally stressed last night unless there was something else going on.

She rang and waited for her to pick up.

"Yes?"

"I just wanted to check up on you - "

"Elizabeth, I know you mean well but let's get something straight: I am your boss. I already have a right-hand woman. You are an employee and a new member in this gang. The last person I would talk to about anything on my mind is you. I may trust you, but do not think that that makes us close."

Elizabeth nodded, processing this, "I'm sorry if I overstepped - "

"Anything else? Because it's a busy day and I have things to do."

"N - no."

"Goodbye."

"Bye..."

And then the phone hung up.

Sherlock held his gaze on her, unsure of what assumptions - if any - to make about her responses. The detective watched her slide the phone back into her pocket and headed towards the door, pausing as he overheard John and the owner of the pub say something that sparked his interest.

"Ever seen it – the hound?"

"Me? No." He shook his head and then pointed outside at where a man was stood, talking on the phone, "Fletcher has. He runs the walks – the Monster Walks for the tourists, you know? He’s seen it."

"That’s handy for trade."

That was all he needed to distract his mind from Elizabeth and her suspicious phone calls. He walked outside, intending to follow the man over to his seat but he couldn't go without a drink. He spotted a half-drunk beer glass that had been abandoned on the table where Elizabeth went and grabbed it, beckoning Elizabeth with him as well who obliged in following him with an innocent smile. Even that smile felt off to him now.

"Mind if we join you?" Sherlock asked the tour guide.

Fletcher shrugged, gesturing to the seats at the table and faced away again. Elizabeth sent a questioning look to Sherlock as he gestured for her to take a seat. He looked at Fletcher again.

"It’s not true, is it? You haven’t actually seen this...hound thing." He gave a little laugh.

Fletcher looked between Sherlock and Elizabeth, almost distrusting, "You from the papers?"

"No, nothing like that." Elizabeth shook her head and took a sip of her water, "Just curious."

"Have you seen it?" Sherlock followed up.

"Maybe."

Sherlock pressed, "Got any proof?"

"Why would I tell you if I did?" Fletcher shook his head and stood to leave, "'Scuse me."

"I take it as a no then." Elizabeth nudged Sherlock as she enticed Fletcher to stay with the promise of proving someone wrong, "Told you monsters aren't real."

"As I recall I told you that monsters aren't real."

"John's going to be disappointed."

And speaking of the devil, out the army doctor came with a drink in hand and took a seat, "I called Henry - "

"Bet’s off, John, sorry." Sherlock interrupted.

"What?"

"Bet?" Fletcher asked.

Sherlock ignored him and checked his watch, "My plan needs darkness. Reckon we’ve got another half an hour of light."

"Wait, wait." Fletcher drew their attention to himself again, "What bet?"

Hook, line and sinker the consulting couple thought simultaneously. Now, if he does have anything useful to say, at least he would tell them. Didn't matter how, be it out of spite or to impress, but they needed whatever information and knowledge he knew regarding this supposed beast of the moors.

"Oh, you know, we just had a bet with our friend here." Elizabeth shrugged.

Sherlock elaborated, "We bet John here fifty quid that you couldn’t prove you’d seen the hound."

"Yeah," John nodded now, following their little plan, "The guys in the pub said you could."

Fletcher laughed, looking at Sherlock bemused, "Well, you’re gonna lose your money, mates."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I’ve seen it. Only about a month ago, up at the Hollow." Fletch took out his phone in order to find his evidence, "It was foggy, mind – couldn’t make much out."

"I see. No witnesses, I suppose." He rolled his eyes and tilted his head.

"No, but - "

"Never are..."

"No, wait," Fletcher paused, turning his phone to show Sherlock and Elizabeth and then John, "There."

They saw a picture of large black dog on the moors that could have easily been photoshopped. Sherlock snorted and Elizabeth raised her brow as John looked at the phone carefully.

"Is that it?" She asked.

"It’s not exactly proof, is it?" Sherlock shook his head, unimpressed, "Sorry, John. We win."

"Wait, wait. That’s not all." Fletcher seemed determined to prove them wrong, "People don’t like going up there, you know – to the Hollow. Gives them a...bad sort of feeling."

"Ooh! Is it haunted?" Sherlock questioned sarcastically, "Is that supposed to convince me?"

"Nah, don’t be stupid, nothing like that, but I reckon there is something out there. Something from Baskerville, escaped."

Another mocking laugh left the detective's lips, "A clone? A super-dog?"

"Maybe." Fletcher was more open-minded than the men and woman in front of him, "God knows what they’ve been spraying on us all these years, or putting in the water. I wouldn’t trust 'em as far as I could spit."

Quite fed up now, Sherlock prompted him again, "Is that the best you’ve got?"

Fletcher fell silent for a moment, looking between the three people as though unsure of whether or not he should tell this story of his. His posture changed, he stood up a little straighter, ready to address them all with his tale of uneasiness. They all listened, each enthralled in their own way by his words.

"I had a mate once who worked for the MOD. One weekend we were meant to go fishin' but he never showed up, well, not 'til late. When he did, he was white as a sheet. I can see him now. 'I’ve seen things today, Fletch,' he said, 'that I never wanna see again. Terrible things.' He’d been sent to some secret Army place – Porton Down, maybe - maybe Baskerville, or somewhere else." His hands searched for his backpack zips, "In the labs there, the really secret labs, he said he’d seen...terrible things. Rats as big as dogs, he said, and dogs..." Fletcher pulled out a preserved footprint from his backpack, "Dogs the size of horses."

Elizabeth sat back slightly as she looked at the enormous footprint, even Sherlock was disturbed by the fact he had very concrete evidence supposedly proving the existence of such a creature roaming the moors.

"Er, we did say fifty?" John said, not missing out on the opportunity to gain some money.

Sherlock and Elizabeth looked at each other briefly with a sigh as they took out their wallets, each handing over twenty-five pounds to the army doctor who received the money gratefully. Fletcher just smiled, content with being able to shut up some non-believers with his cold, hard evidence.

"Ta." John thanked them as he finished his drink.

Sherlock left the beer glass at the picnic table and walked off in a bit of a huff. Elizabeth just sat for a moment, perturbed by the fact that there may just be a large creature running wild and free on the moors.