TO BE FOUND : Book One

The Game

Victoria had only slept for a few hours, only because her mind was distracted by the events of her not-so average evening. When released by her employer she imagined life would return to being domestically and bitterly sweet. How wrong she was. She hadn't escaped his web, perhaps she would dance forever, entangled by Jim Moriarty. As the night went on, just beyond her closed door she heard Sherlock playing his violin, a haunting song, but it was smooth enough to lull her into a dream.

A dream was merely the facade that the nightmare took when entering the young woman's mind. Her wrist were bound by a sticky string that made her body move, beyond her control. The one moving the strings, Moriarty himself. After waking up from her nightmare, she gave up on sleep, it had practically given up on her. The red head, peered out her window to see that the sun was rising and London was waking up to a new day.

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Victoria and Sherlock sat in the cold flat, that was 221B, a few repairs had been made on the windows, but the winter air was still sneaking in. She was working on putting together a new resume. Things were coming together, in a manner of speaking. A firm was looking to hire her as a receptionist for a modelling agency. She asked if someone would consider her an apprentice to become a photographer. Maybe one day she would be behind the camera or even modelling before the lens. For now that was only a dream.

She glanced from her illuminated computer screen, looking to see Sherlock fiddling with his violin. He looked up from what he was doing and smiled at her, to which she replied with her own smile. "What's the plan for today?" Victoria asked.

"Mycroft wants to pay us a visit. I'm sure it will be entertaining to say the very least." Sherlock plucked a string, adjusting its sound.

The two heard a creak, pulling their attention to the figure in the doorway and causing them to look to the door where the elder Holmes brother stood at the door with a smile on his face. "Entertainment is not my area, but I hope to bring something of interest."

With that being said the red head and the detective exchanged a glance, with mischievous glints in their eyes.

"And I come to bid a warm welcome to you, Victoria. Welcome back to London. What a journey you've had."

Sherlock frowned at this, annoyed that his own brother what Victoria had been doing these past several years, yet he still felt that he was in the dark. Supposedly she had been travelling, internationally. He saw the passport, but there was something he was missing. Sherlock knew Victoria was hiding the truth, not for any spiteful reason of course, but perhaps to keep him from harms way.

Victoria nodded to Mycroft with a smile that didn't quite meet her eyes, "Thank you, Mycroft."

He walked over with a smile, sitting in John's chair just across from his younger brother, letting the silence settle for only a moment. "I'm sure you've received my texts, and voicemails about the case."

Victoria has not heard about this.

"Oh, yes. The ones I have quite obviously ignored and have not taken into consideration?" Sherlock replied, giving his brother a fake smile.

"Don't be so difficult, it's unbecoming of you, besides I can offer a good sum of money." Mycroft said, rolling his eyes.

"I don't want to run around London for Queen and country." The detective plucked at another string on his violin.