The Question of Faith in Baskerville

Prologue

ATTENTION: You need to read The Case of the Missing Heart first. This is a sequel and as such references events that happened in that book. There are also key plot points that create an Alternate Universe for the characters of Sherlock. Technically you can squeak by if you insist, but I believe the read will be more enjoyable and understandable if you read Missing Heart first.

.........
John lightly scowled as the shower ran. The entire flat stank of some cloying smell that he couldn't name just yet. But as soon as he could identify it, he would feel much better. Especially considering who Sherlock had found in his bedroom within the past half-hour.

It had started out as a fairly normal day. Greg had asked them to stop by the station to give a report of the past week's activity. No more heartless about the city, and no reports from anywhere else. Some quick consultations that were simple enough that Stephen had beaten Sherlock. They had afterward grabbed tea and sandwiches at a shop on the way home. Then, Sherlock had discovered one Irene Adler resting in his bedroom.

So far, Stephen had been staying out of sight, the ace up their sleeve if needed. The Woman didn't know about Stephen. Frankly, only a select few knew about Stephen Strange Holmes, and they would prefer to keep it that way. In fact, Stephen hadn't even existed until roughly a fortnight ago when they were eradicating London of a Heartless infestation.

Now that John considered it, he wasn't sure if he was happy or disappointed that Irene hadn't fallen prey to the ravaging Darkness. It certainly would have saved them all this trouble.

"John, you are practically seething," Sherlock noted lazily, across the table from him. "What is running through that brain of yours?"

"I don't trust her, Sherlock," John answered. "Even while telling us that people are chasing her, she never tells us why she steals this information. Never tells us exactly why she needed to start 'ensuring' her protection in the first place. She could be working for some criminal mastermind for all we know."

"Not a mastermind, John," Sherlock said. "The only criminal worthy of that title was defeated by both the Darkness and our own keyblades sixteen days ago."

John released an exasperated sigh as the shower turned off. He lowered his voice, never quite sure how truly isolated the bathroom's walls were. "Just be on your guard. No flirting."

Sherlock gave him a perplexed expression, little splotches of confusion touching John's senses. "Why would I flirt with Ms. Adler? I'm a taken man."

"But she doesn't know that," John answered. "And try to keep the radical deductions to a minimum. Based on past experience, that will constitute as flirting as far as she is concerned."

"Very well," Sherlock said. "And please, unless she shows signs of transforming into some heartless, keep your keyblades out of sight."

"I know better than that, Sherlock," John muttered. He turned back to his laptop, making sure he had a fresh document up for notes. Yes, more than likely if this was a case, it would end up being a case he could never post on his blog. But, potentially for future generations, or when he was a crochety old man with dentures it would be safe to share with the world.

"Any traces of Darkness?" Sherlock asked.

John kept an eye on the hallway. "Not necessarily more than usual," he answered. "But there is a cloying scent that is about to drive me mad since I can't place it."

"Be sure to tell me what it is once you've figured it out," Sherlock said.

"Only when she's not here," John said. "I don't want her to know any more about our part in the heartless infestation than what has already been shown on the telly."