I let my long blonde hair down today, tucking the loose strands behind my ears. I wore a simple pair of levis jeans, and I added a simple white tank and my clean air forces. 

I head out of my room, grabbed my coat on the way and headed for the stairs but I clearly wasn't the only one with that plan because the sassy detective came dashing out of the door, knocking me to the hardwood floor.

"what are you doing here?" He asks as I dust myself off. 

"Mrs. Hudson asked me to stay," I grumble. 

"I have a case this morning...John is unavailable are you busy?" He mumbles.

"Ah is the famous Detective asking for help?" I tease.

"No. Just want...assistance," he responds.

-----

Sherlock knew she wasn't who she claimed to be, he just didn't know how to prove it. Every once in a while he'd watch her expressions and reactions throughout their time spent together. He got nothing, not a single blip in her character. She was well put together with straight posture and her hair always seemed to fall in all the right places. Her hips swayed lightly as she walked and she had a little bounce in her heel that was barely noticeable but Sherlock could easily catch that physical attribute of her person. Something about her flirty personality was familiar to him, but he couldn't place why. Even her eyes...there was something about the way she looked at him that caused his stomach to turn uncomfortably. 

"Sherlock, you alright?" She asks, her slight Irish accent rounding her sentences in its own way. 

"Of course. Anyways a man was murdered and then thrown out the window where he is now laying on the rain-washed road. The man was a-" The detective starts but gets cut off.

"May I do the deductions please?" Valerie asks, grinning at the annoyed detective.

"Great...young man, I'd say about 28 judging by the healthy hairline and smooth skin, not young enough to be under 25, he has wrinkles and proper smile lines, I'd say a loyal family guy at first glance. 

----

Sherlock took a moment to register what she was saying. He ended up distracted once again, trying to figure out why he couldn't read her. The way she looked at him was so...confusing. He watched the way her eyes squinted as she examined the scene in front of her. Something wasn't right...

"Sherlock are you even listening to me?" she questions.

"Hm? Oh yes sorry, very good." he hums in response. 

The tall man stands up and adjusts his collar before speaking. 

"loyal man...hmm not quite. The powder on h-"

"Cocaine." The blonde interrupts. 

"could be someone close to him figured out his loyalty was a reuse and wanted to show how much it bothered them," she said, letting out a shallow laugh. 

"no. not enough motive...there has to be more to the lie," he mumbles.  

"speak to the family and find out who has alibis" The detective yells to Lestrade. 

-----

He was acting weird...why is he just staring at the body with no thought? what a weirdo. 

I let out a long sigh as he eventually calls to lestrade. Unexpectadley he whips his head in my direction once more. His grey-blue eyes stare into my own hazel brown ones. I feel my breath hitch in my throat, a sort of comfort washing over me as i loose myself in his gaze. I feel a shiver roll through my spine and spread across my skin. He continues to stand there, holding his stare for what seemed like ages. I bite the inside of my lip as i blink away the trance, a habit i had picked up growing up, often causing my inner lip to bleed randomly. He looked down at the road before nodding towards my car, signaling it was time to leave the scene. 

The drive home was silent, not one of us having anything relevant to say. Sherlock just seemed troubled, i wasn't sure if making small talk was the right idea so I followed his lead and kept my mouth shut and eyes on the road. 

Just before turning onto baker street a small diner on the opposite corner catches my eye. I smile to myself before abruptly turning onto the other street. Sherlock snapped his head to look at me. i chuckled softly at his reaction. 

"Lunch?" I smile.

His brows furrow for a moment before giving me a flat smile in return. 

"Fine." He replies. 

---

We step into the small diner, the door trigging a bell as we enter. 

"How annoying," Sherlock mutters. 

"Let's sit by the window," I say, ignoring his rude comment. 

I watched as he adjusted his chair and removed his scarf and gloves, followed by his jacket. He wore a simple grey dress shirt, it fit him well, showing definition to his broad shoulders and toned biceps. He adjusted his collar slightly before picking up the laminated menu on the table. I watched as his eyes darted over the selections, his troubled gaze concealed by a flush amount of dark lashes. He really did become pretty. I smile to myself and bite the inside of my lip once more before looking at my own menu. 

"What is that face for?" He asks, a confused expression settled on his pale features. 

"Nothing, its just my face," I grin. 

He doesn't respond to my cheesy remark, he simply rolls his eyes before placing his menu back on the table. 

"I'm not hungry," he sighs. 

"Too bad," I reply. 

-----

Sherlocks brain wouldn't stop running in circles over this girl and the mystery she brings. He watched her carefully throughout the entire meal, the way she ate, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when it fell in front of her face and yet he still got nothing. He couldn't help but enjoy her company, though he would hate to admit it she was easier to communicate with than John...in a way.

-----

"How is my brother?"

"He's fine," I reply. As i clean one of my knives.

"I knew you'd get sucked in, Reine, It's not just outside enemy's that are causing this danger...i fear he is a danger to himself. Ever since John and mary became a thing Sherlock has been troubled...lonely." Mycroft explains. 

"I understand," I say. I pause before standing up. 

"Myke...here's a question for you. How on earth did it get his out of hand? You have let your poor younger brother suffer in a way he doesn't understand. Sherlock was a creative boy, and he cared, but you can't even bother to visit him yourself! You have people com-" 

"Reine he doesn-" he starts to interrupt. 

"NO! MYCROFT HOLMES YOU LISTEN TO ME." I spit, taking a threatening step towards him, pointing my freshly sharpened knife at his startled face. 

"Sherlock may be unemotional but he is stuck...and he NEEDS more than just a random check in once a month!" I push. 

"REINE. That is why you're here isn't it?...but you don't need payment to do it, even if i took back our deal," he paused.

"you wouldn't leave."