Phoebe was resting on her couch when John came in.

"How are you feeling today?" He asked and she hugged the pillow in her arms tight.

"Better..." She murmured and John sat beside her.

"Moriarty seems to have backed off again," John said softly and she nodded.

"I see..."

"Are you sure you're okay? You haven't been as happy as you normally are," John said and she sighed softly.

"I... I want friends..."

"But you have friends. You have Mycroft, me, and even Sherlock."

"He's not my friend... he's told me before... he told me last week when we went to dinner... he didn't want a friend... he doesn't want me as his friend... he may act nice sometimes, but he's a liar," Phoebe looked down and John hummed.

"He thinks you're friends though," John said as he rubbed her back. "He really enjoys having you around."

"Really? He's seemed so annoyed with me lately. I've tried avoiding him because I don't want him to be mad at me," Phoebe replied.

John sighed and looked at his lap before looking back at Phoebe. "Come with me. You need to meet someone," he said as he stood up.

"Okay..."

She stood up and followed him out.

🔎

Phoebe looked around as she entered a lab.

"Sherlock, where's Molly?" John asked curiously.

"Getting tea. She'll be back in twenty three seconds," Sherlock said and Phoebe hummed softly.

Sherlock looked up and saw Phoebe scanning the lab. He felt his eyes drawn to her face. Her hair was in a mid ponytail, but her side bangs that weren't quite long enough framed her face beautifully. She wasn't wearing any makeup yet her skin looked airbrushed except for a small scar on her forehead. Her eyes were sweeping the room before she met his eyes and they paused.

He was about to speak when Molly came in.

"Oh, um, hello. You must be Phoebe," Molly said when she saw the other brunette girl in the room.

"Yep, that's me. You must be Molly," Phoebe said and she nodded.

"Why don't you two go chit chat. I need to speak with Sherlock," John said and Molly showed Phoebe out of the room.

"You don't need to talk," Sherlock said as he looked back into his microscope.

"Nope, I'm trying to get Phoebe a new friend," John said and Sherlock hummed. "She's getting better though. I don't know what else happened to her but she seems so afraid of everything."

"Moriarty got into her head. He told me that he would burn my heart out. That was only the start," Sherlock muttered.

"Will he go after her again?" John asked, worry laced in his tone.

"I hope not, but knowing what I do about Moriarty, he is gonna go after her as long as she is in my life," Sherlock said as he looked at him samples. "We just have to make sure she is safe."

🔎

Phoebe woke up with a scream and she shot straight up, sweating. She started to cry and she pulled her knees to her chest.

"Phoebe?!" John rushed in and she looked at him. He sighed in relief. "Another nightmare?"

She nodded and Sherlock walked in, standing by the door.

"I hate it so much... I just want it to stop..." Phoebe whimpered as John hugged her.

"John, can I speak with Phoebe, alone?"

John looked over at Sherlock and then nodded a bit before getting up.

"I'll uh, leave you two be. I'm gonna go back to sleep." John left to go back to his room.

"I'm sor-"

"You didn't wake me. I couldn't sleep," Sherlock cut her off as he walked over. "What happened?"

"What?" Phoebe looked at him with confusion.

"What did Moriarty say to you? You have never been one to get nightmares and you are practically afraid of your own shadow. You've been skittish around me and don't think I haven't noticed you avoiding me when possible as well," Sherlock said.

"I'm just... I'm scared, okay?"

"He said something. He got into your head and I need to know what he told you..." Sherlock tried his best to be gentle, but he was struggling.

"He kept saying that you loved the game... he told me I was going to die... I'm worthless... he said that I was gonna be the reason you die..." Phoebe clutched her knees tighter to her chest and trembled slightly.

"Come here," Sherlock held his arms open. She hesitated, but hugged him tight, crying into his chest.

Sherlock did his best to comfort her, but he didn't really know how. He just remembered how his mom had held him when he lost his dog, Redbeard, so he figured holding Phoebe might help. He also remembered that John said this would work to comfort her.

Phoebe felt safe in his arms as she buried her face in his chest. She felt like the little girl he met in school, but she was afraid.

Now she was terrified, but she felt protected in Sherlock's hold. She felt like nothing in the world could hurt her while he was holding her close.

Soon after, her sobs became quiet, her breath catching every so often. Sherlock looked down, seeing that she was asleep and he hummed.

"Easy enough," he murmured to himself, not having expected to be able to calm her down that quickly.

Sherlock tucked her in and he felt a fluttering feeling in his chest when he saw her peaceful face. It was so strange, but it was comforting.

He swiped his thumb under her eyes and along her cheek, wiping the tears off her face.

He felt himself calm down as he studied her features, continuing to caress her cheek without realizing it. Her soft skin felt warm beneath his fingers, making him not want to pull his hand away.

Sherlock let out a soft hum before he got undressed, slipping into the bed beside Phoebe.

He wrapped his arms around her, letting her unconsciously snuggle closer to his warmth. He ran his fingers though her hair, his eyes drooping as he started to drift off.

🔎

Phoebe's eye's fluttered open and she hummed as she felt someone loosely holding her.

Her eyes shot open and she saw that her head was on a bare chest. She looked up to see the peaceful face of the sleeping sociopathic detective.

"Sherlock?! Why are you in my bed?!" Phoebe glared at him she pushed away from him immediately.

Sherlock groaned and just curled up in her blanket. She figured that he fell asleep after she had her nightmare.

Phoebe huffed and got up, choosing to ignore hee annoyance. "Do you want breakfast?"

He just hummed in reply, but stayed curled up. Phoebe went to her kitchen and started to cook breakfast when John rushed in.

"Phoebe? Have you seen Sherlock?" John asked quickly.

"Sadly, yes. He's in my bed," she answered.

"What? Why?" John looked at her suspiciously.

"I don't know. I woke up to a practically naked man in my bed who was supposed to go back up to his flat. I guess he got me to go back to sleep but I didn't think he would stay," Phoebe said with a soft sigh.

"I'm glad I did. You had three more nightmares and I kept you asleep. You would've kept waking up," Sherlock said from behind them.

Phoebe turned around to look at him but quickly looked away. "Why are you naked?!"

"I was naked before. I was just covered under the blankets. Is there a problem?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"We don't want to see you naked, Sherlock!" John said as he turned his back to the detective.

"What's the problem? We're both men and Phoebe has seen it before," Sherlock said.

"Doesn't mean I want to see it again. Put your clothes on," Phoebe said quickly.

"BOYS! YOU'VE GOT ANOTHER ONE!" Mrs. Hudson shouted from upstairs.

"Get your clothes on right now, Sherlock," Phoebe said sternly.

"Nope." Sherlock went back to her room and took her sheet off the bed. He wrapped up and went upstairs.

🔎

Phoebe was just getting ready for the day while Sherlock video called with John who was at the crime scene.

When the doorbell rang she was startled by Sherlock yelling, "shut up!"

"I'll get it in a second!" Phoebe called as she finished doing her hair.

She went to get the door and saw two men in suits.

"Can I help you?" She asked politely.

"We're here for Sherlock Holmes," one man said before they walked passed her and she quickly followed them up.

"His room's through the back. Get him some clothes," the head guy said as he pointed towards Sherlock's room after seeing that he was only in a sheet.

"Who the hell are you?" Sherlock asked as he looked at them.

"Sorry, Mr. Holmes, you're coming with us," the guy said as he shut the laptop.

"Is Phoebe coming?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"She was not requested," the man said and Sherlock hummed.

"I won't go if she and John don't go," Sherlock said stubbornly.

"Dr. Watson is on his way there. The girl can come." The man said before the other man came out and placed clothes in front of Sherlock.

"Please, Mr. Holmes, where you're going you'll want to be dressed," the first guy said and Sherlock scanned him.

"I know exactly where I'm going," Sherlock said with a straight face.

"Then please, get dressed," the man said.

"Nope! Come on, Phoebe!" Sherlock bounced up and walked towards the door.

Phoebe sighed and grabbed the clothes before following him.

🔎

"Why in the world did you think it was okay for you to sleep with me? Naked, nonetheless." Phoebe didn't even want to look at Sherlock.

She honestly had wondered if that's what it would've felt like to wake up the morning after their senior prom if he had stayed. She had to admit, it felt nice to wake up in the warmth of his grasp, but she was not at all happy with the fact that he slept in her bed, completely nude.

"It's not the first time I have slept in your bed with no clothes on. I don't see what the big deal is. You didn't have a problem before," Sherlock said as he turned his gaze to her.

"Last time was years ago and it was after I let you take my virginity because I was stupid enough to fall in love with you and think that you loved me back!" Phoebe narrowed her eyes as she looked at the man sitting in the cab beside her.

Sherlock hummed and let out a soft sigh. "I am sorry, Phoebe. John isn't forcing me to say it. I never meant for you to fall in love with me and I never meant for you to get hurt."

"Then why did you not stop me when I kissed you? Why did you let it happen?" Phoebe hugged herself as she rubbed her arms.

"I guess it was just the moment. I didn't think anything of it," Sherlock replied plainly and Phoebe looked down. "I didn't realize it meant a lot to you. I mean, I only took you to the prom because Mycroft told me to."

"I get it. You didn't care about me. It's fine," Phoebe said quietly and she leaned her head on the window.

Sherlock felt awkward and he looked at her, going to say something.

"Don't," Phoebe said without looking at him.

"I didn't say anything." Sherlock furrowed his brows.

"You were gonna say that you did care, but I know that you didn't," Phoebe replied and Sherlock looked ahead, saying nothing.

🔎

Phoebe sat on the couch opposite Sherlock.

"Please just put the clothes on. We are in Buckingham Palace for goodness sake!" Phoebe pleaded but he ignored her.

Suddenly, John came in from one of the entrances and walked over, sitting on the couch with Sherlock. He looked around and then looked at Sherlock before looking ahead.

"You wearing any pants?" John asked curiously.

"No," Sherlock replied.

"Okay." John nodded and the two looked at each other before laughing.

"Children..." Phoebe muttered.

"At Buckingham Palace. Right. I am seriously fighting an impulse to steal an ash tray," John said as he looked around.

Sherlock laughed a little and Phoebe shook her head before John cleared his throat.

"What are we doing here, Sherlock? Seriously, what?" John asked.

"I don't know," he replied.

"Here to see the Queen?" John wondered.

Just then, Mycroft walked into the room.

"Oh, apparently yes," Sherlock joked and the two men started laughing again.

"Just once can you two behave like grownups?" Mycroft asked as he looked at them, walking over.

"We solve crimes, I blog about it, and he forgets his pants. I wouldn't hold out too much hope." John grinned.

"I was in the middle of a case, Mycroft," Sherlock said as he looked at his older brother.

"What? The one with the hiker and the backfire? I glanced at the police report, a bit obvious, surely?" Mycroft shot a smile at Phoebe before looking back at Sherlock.

"Transparent," Sherlock replied and Phoebe raised an eyebrow.

"Time to move on then," Mycroft said before clearing his throat. He reach over and grabbed Sherlock's clothes on the table, holding them out for his little brother, but Sherlock looked away.

Phoebe grimaced and shook her head as Mycroft sighed.

"We are in Buckingham Palace, at the very heart of the British nation. Sherlock Holmes, put your trousers on," Mycroft said sternly.

"What for?" Sherlock asked.

"Your client," Mycroft answered.

"And my client is?" Sherlock stood up and Phoebe groaned.

"Illustrious, in the extreme," a man said as he walked into the room before continuing, "and remaining, I have to inform you, entirely anonymous."

Phoebe stood up along with John and she smiled at the man.

"Mycroft," the man held out a hand.

"Harry," Mycroft replied as he walked over and shook the man's hand. "May I just apologize for the state of my little brother."

"A full time occupation, I imagine," Harry responded to which Phoebe hummed. "And this must be Dr. John Watson, formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers."

"Hello, yes," John said as he held out a hand for Harry to shake.

"My employer is a tremendous fan of your blog," Harry said with a smile.

"Your employer?" John questioned curiously.

"Particularly enjoyed the one about the aluminum crutch."

"Thank you," John replied respectfully.

"And Mr. Holmes the younger. You look taller in your photographs," Harry said as he walked over to Sherlock.

"I take the precaution of a good coat and a short friend," Sherlock remarked before moving to walk away. "Mycroft, I don't do anonymous clients. I'm used to mystery at one end of my case. Both ends is too much work. Good morning."

He walked passed Mycroft who stepped on the end of his sheet. The sheet was pulled off, but Sherlock quickly caught it so that his lower half remained covered.

"This is a matter of national importance. Grow up!" Mycroft scolded.

"Get off my sheet!" Sherlock tugged at it.

"Or what?" Mycroft challenged.

"Or I'll just walk away," Sherlock threatened.

"I'll let you," Mycroft said with a grin.

"Boys, please, not here," John intervened.

"John's right. This is not the time nor the place. Sherlock, just put your damn clothes on," Phoebe said sternly.

"Who is my client?" Sherlock demanded an answer.

"Take a look at where you're standing and make a deduction. You are to be engaged by the highest in the land. Now for God's sake!" Mycroft took a breath. "Put your clothes on!"

Phoebe crossed her arms, but quickly looked away when Sherlock dropped his sheet.

"Sherlock!" She cried and he turned to look at her.

"What?" The detective looked at the blonde.

"You- just put your clothes on!" Phoebe turned her back to him completely.

As Sherlock put his clothes on, Harry turned to Phoebe.

"I'm afraid I do not recognize you," he said and she hummed.

"I'm a friend of Mycroft and John," Phoebe replied and Sherlock cleared his throat loudly. "And Sherlock, sometimes."

She wasn't used to Sherlock calling her a friend. Ever since she came out of shock, Sherlock was acting more open which was strange, but she chose not to question it.

"Well, it is wonderful to meet you," Harry held out a hand which Phoebe shook politely.

"And the same to you," she replied. "Now, are you decent, Sherlock?"

"Yes," he grumbled.

They all sat down and one of the service men brought them tea.

"I'll be mother," Mycroft said as he poured some tea.

"And there is a whole childhood in a nutshell," Sherlock said flatly and Phoebe nudged him with her elbow.

"Be polite," she scolded quietly.

"My employer has a problem," Harry started.

"A matter has come to light of an extremely delicate and potentially criminal nature and in this hour of need, dear brother, your name has arisen," Mycroft finished for Harry.

"Why?" Sherlock questioned. "We have a police force of sorts, even a marginally secret service. Why come to me?"

"People do come to you for help, don't they, Mr. Holmes?" Harry looked over at the younger of the brothers.

"Not to date anyone with a navy," Sherlock replied.

"This is a matter of highest security and therefore of trust," Mycroft said to his brother.

"You don't trust your own secret service?" John raised an eyebrow.

"Naturally not. They all spy on people for money," Mycroft explained.

"I do think we have a timetable," Harry cut in.

"Yes, of course, um," Mycroft opened his briefcase. "What do you know about this woman?" He pulled out a photo and showed it to Sherlock.

"Nothing whatsoever," Sherlock answered as he looked at the image.

"Then you should be paying more attention," Mycroft commented. "She's been at the center of two political scandals in the last year and recently ended the marriage of a prominent novelist, by having an affair with both participants separately."

"You know I don't concern myself with trivia," Sherlock said. "Who is she?"

"Irene Adler, professionally known as 'The Woman'," Mycroft answered.

"Professionally?" John questioned.

"There are many names for what she does, she prefers 'dominatrix'," Mycroft clarified.

"Dominatrix..." Sherlock hummed.

"Don't be alarmed. It's to do with sex," Mycroft said.

"Sex doesn't alarm me," Sherlock said quickly.

"How would you know?" Mycroft grinned at his brother.

Sherlock and Phoebe glanced at each other before quickly looking away after their eyes met, but Mycroft noticed.

"What?! Why was I not informed?!" Mycroft was more confused as to how he had not been able to tell when it happened.

"It was none of your business. You have your secrets, I have mine," Phoebe replied swiftly.

"I'm surprised you couldn't tell," Sherlock said to his brother. "You're supposed to be the smart one."

"I am the smart one. When did this happen?" Mycroft asked as he looked between them.

"My sex life is of no concern to anyone but me. If you're really concerned, it was years ago.. Now, can we please get back to the matter at hand?!" Phoebe huffed, so embarrassed.

"Anyways, she provides, shall we say, recreational scolding for those who enjoy that sort of thing and are prepared to pay for it," Mycroft said and Phoebe shuttered. "These are all from her website."

Mycroft handed some more photos to Sherlock which he looked through.

"And I assume this Adler woman has some compromising photographs?" Sherlock flipped through the last photo.

"You're very quick, Mr. Holmes," Harry remarked.

"Hardly a difficult deduction. Photographs of whom?" Sherlock asked quickly.

"A person of significance to my employer," Harry replied. "We'd prefer not to say anymore at this time."

"You can't tell us anything?" John questioned.

"I can tell you it's a young person. A young female person," Mycroft said after a few seconds.

"How many photographs are there?" Phoebe asked.

"A considerable number apparently," Mycroft answered.

"Do Miss Adler and this young female person appear in these photographs together?" Sherlock asked curiously.

"Yes, they do," Mycroft replied immediately.

"And I assume in a number of compromising scenarios?" Sherlock kept his gaze on his older brother.

"An imaginative range, we are assured." Mycroft looked at Sherlock and then at John.

"John, you might want to put that cup back in your saucer now," Sherlock said quickly and John did so.

"Can you help us, Mr. Holmes?" Harry asked.

"How?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"Will you take the case?" Harry rephrased.

"What case? Pay her, now, in full," Sherlock said. "As Miss Adler remarks in her masthead, know when you are beaten." Sherlock went to grab his coat.

"She doesn't want anything," Mycroft commented. "She got in touch, she informed us that the photographs existed, she indicated that she had no intention to use them to extort either money or favour."

"Oh, a power play," Sherlock realized. "A power play with the most powerful family in Britain. Now that is a dominatrix. Oo, this is getting rather fun, isn't it?"

"Sherlock. Focus." Phoebe kicked his foot.

"Where is she?" The younger Holmes asked as he grabbed his jacket and stood up.

"Uh, in London, currently. She's staying-"

"Text me the details. I'll be in touch be the end of the day," Sherlock said as he started to walk out.

"Do you really think you'll have news by then?" Harry asked as the rest of them all stood, following after Sherlock.

"No, I think I'll have the photographs," Sherlock remarked as he stopped and looked at the man.

"One can only hope you're as good ad you seem to think," Harry commented and Sherlock scanned him.

"I'll need some equipment of course," he said quickly as he looked at his brother.

"Anything you require, I'll have it sent over," Mycroft said with a nod.

"Can I have a box of matches?" Sherlock looked at Harry.

"I'm sorry?" Harry looked at the man in confusion.

"Or your cigarette lighter, either will do," Sherlock said as he held out his hand.

"I don't smoke," Harry replied.

"No, you don't but your employer does," Sherlock said which confused John.

"We have kept a lot of people successfully in the dark about this little fact, Mr. Holmes," Harry said as he handed Sherlock the lighter.

"I'm not the commonwealth." Sherlock took the lighter and pocketed it.

"And that's as modest as he gets. Pleasure to meet you," John said quickly.

"Don't forget dinner Friday night. You promised you'd be there," Phoebe said to Mycroft and he nodded.

"Laters!" Sherlock called as he walked out with John, Phoebe quickly catching up to the pair.