The Labyrinth of Fragile things

Chapter XIV- A reunion with an old friend

I wiped all thoughts of my mother when I entered Mycroft's study. I surveyed the room, nodding. Yes, it was exactly how I left it. The room was quite large, the oak interior no different from the rest of the manor. In front of me stood a huge computer data base. I walked toward it, sitting in the armchair opposite it. The computer itself was long and slim, the keyboard much the same. I was aware that the security system would be quite high tech, but it's nothing I hadn't dealt with before.

As I successfully hacked into the system, I found myself typing Billy Wiggins name in the files section. I'll admit I was tempted to search John, but if John's vigilant behavior thus far gave any indication on him being able to get caught, then the search would be fruitless. Billy, in contrast, wouldn't be as stealthy as no one's expecting him to be accomplices with John.

Luckily I'm not no one.

I searched Billy's whereabouts and found that he was renting an apartment in Appledore. I stored the apartment number: 355 to memory.

I left Mycroft's manor in a haste, not even caring if Mycroft found out I hacked into his system (yet again), or to bother acknowledging my mother's existence. I hailed a cab as quickly as possible. "Appledore, street New Hersey." I told the driver as I sat in the back of the car.

"Appledore it is," the driver roared. He sounded as if he inhaled a whole packet of cigarettes at once. I was grateful that I hadn't smoked in the past few months. "You're Mr Holmes, ain't you?"

I groaned internally; small talk. Why does every human being fill the need to fill silence up with it? "Yes, I'm Sherlock Holmes."

"Came back from the dead," he gave a hearty chuckle. "How'd you do it?"

"You're not obliged to make small talk with your passages," I informed him. I was used to John dealing with the drivers. For awhile there was a long pause, and for that I was grateful. Until it was interrupted.

"I heard your friend, erm... partner in crime... has gone missing."

I looked at the driver's eyes in the front mirror. They were dark brown, and they looked almost sympathetic. I sighed. "Well, what you heard was true." I didn't want to give away too many details on my stance in the case The tabloids would be full of John and I soon enough.

I found myself fidgeting with my gloves, my heartbeat increased. I showed all the signs of anxiety. Why would I be anxious? I was being ridiculous. I should be glad. I finally solved the case, and I would be able to see John soon. But's it the after part that worried me.

In about twenty minutes the cab came to a halt. "I wish you all the luck with your case," the driver said after he stopped the car. I gave him a small smile. Perhaps I was too hard on him?... I thanked him with my money.

As I walked around Appledore, searching for New Hersey, I deduced the city and the types of people who lived there. Drug dealers and users by the looks of it. It didn't surprise me. Billy always did have an interest in the drug scene.

Soon enough I found myself outside apartment 355, the white door staring at me. I straightened myself up, even putting my collar up. I rang the doorbell.

After a solid minute of silence behind the door, Billy opened up and grinned. "Mr Holmes, what do I owe the pleasure?" His Yorkshire accent was as strong as ever. His deep blue eyes seemed to be bulging out of their sockets just at the sight of me. His cheeks were crinkled as he remained grinning. Most people would only see a drug user in Billy, but he was one clever man.

"I believe the pleasure is mine, Wiggins." I returned the smile and offered my hand. He gladly took it, shaking it vigorously.

"What have you been up to? I was out in the States and heard you were dead, yet you're knocking on my doorstep."

"Just a phase I was going through. All though playing dead was amusing, the real world needed Sherlock Holmes." I felt a smirk tug at my lips as I watched Billy chuckle. "What about you? Why were you in the States?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Got sick of the bloody English weather. And got myself in a bit of trouble while I was here.."

"What brought you back?"

"A friend." There it was. The friend. "But enough about me. What are you doing here?"

"Oh, come on, Billy. You're my protege! Deduce me." I was curious to see if his deductive skills were still in tact (though the case proved that well enough).

"Let's see," he rubbed his hands together as he took a long look at me. "Hair has been deliberately shaken, pupils are dilated, complexion has gone slightly red, your heart is beating a lot faster than it should - the pulse can give a lot away - and you keep straightening your collar; your conscious of your appearance." I smiled abashed as he smirked in victory. "You're here to impress somebody. And my guesses are that it ain't me."

"Right you are."