It was late at night and a cold drizzle rained upon the large collection of Scotland Yard officers, gathered in front of an old abandoned theatre in the outskirts of London. John stood quietly on the walkway, trying to rub some feeling back into his frozen fingers.

He and Sherlock had assisted Lestrade and his division in an all-out man hunt on the middle-aged vice CEO of a big car dealership, Robert Singer. Singer had revealed himself as a vicious and racist serial killer. Apparently, he'd been laid off from his job one week ago, when a young afro American man had been offered his position. This had resulted in a sudden and violent killing spree. In the last week Singer had killed 3 people of colour, seemingly with no interest in their age, gender of social status. If they were black, he killed them. In John's opinion, this was the lowest form of crime anyone could commit and only wished for the chance to wring the bastard's neck himself.

If anything positive was to come of this, it was that Singer obliviously committed crimes of passion with very little thought involved. He would simply drive around in London's less busy streets and whenever he stumbled upon a potential victim, he'd ram them down with his car at full speed and then flee the scene. This messy and coarse method had made it almost embarrassingly easy for Sherlock and the yard to track him and collect a massive mountain of evidence against him, to make sure he'd spend the rest of life in prison. In truth, Lestrade and his team would no doubt have been able to crack this case on their own, but since Singer seemed to be in a hurry, Sherlock and John had joined the case in the hopes it would speed things up before the psycho decided to kill yet again.

John glanced over at Sherlock who was deep in conversation with Lestrade. Sherlock had been tipped off from his homeless network, that Singer had been spotted hanging around the abandoned theatre, treating it as his temporary base. An easy location to hide himself and his car. The entire division, along with John and Sherlock, had stormed the place, hoping to apprehend the man. Unfortunately the place was completely empty and all they managed were to scare a few doves. Now the detective and DI were brainstorming, trying to come up with a new course of action.

John shifted his gaze to sergeant Donovan who was pacing impatiently back and forth by the ledge of the sidewalk, isolated a good distance from the rest of the group. Her body language showing a mix of anger, sadness and frustration. John felt for her. Donovan, as a coloured woman herself, had been affected by this case more than usual and no doubt more than was professionally recommended, but who could blame her.

She might not be Johns favourite person in the world and she'd been even more aggressive and bad tempered with Sherlock than usual during this case. John found himself to be both surprised and grateful that Sherlock for once hadn't retorted her harsh words as he usually would. Despite what Donovan or any other member on the force thought of the detective, he was more than capable to feel empathy and understand people when they found themselves in difficult situations. Sherlock was probably even more aware of Sally's difficulties, in dealing with the emotional stain this case was putting on her, than most of her colleagues. Therefor holding his own tongue during this time.

As John continued to watch her he decided he'd walk over and offer some words of reassurance. She certainly looked like she could use a shoulder to lean on right about now. He started walking slowly towards the sergeant. As he got closer a soft humming caught his ears. It didn't stay soft for long though and grew rapidly in strength. Suddenly a car skidded sharply around the corner only a few blocks away from where Sally was standing. The car slid to a halt. The high beams shone so brightly in the dark street, that John had to cover his eyes momentarily to not be blinded by them. The engine of the car started roaring dangerously, like a street race was about to go down. There was no longer any doubt in John's mind. Though it was impossible to see for sure, he was certain Singer was seated behind that wheel and it looked like he'd just found his next victim. John only had just enough time to yell out a warning before the car engine roared to life and the back wheels did a wheel spin and aimed towards Donovan at full speed.

"SALLY! GET AWAY FROM THERE NOW!" John yelled.

But Sally, being in complete shock had frozen where she stood and could only find herself watching in horror as the car raced towards her, bathing her in bright light.

John's instincts took over as he sprinted towards Sally as fast as his legs could carry him. By now the rest of the yarders had caught on, but they were all way too far away to have any hope of reaching Sally in time. It was up to John.

Shouts of horror, curses and warnings alongside the noisy engine filled the cold night air. Among the many voices, John could make out Sherlock's fearful yell.

"JOHN!"

But John could not stop, would not stop. He would not allow Singer to get to Sally. The car was getting frightfully close and Sally stood still and vulnerable next to the walkway. John used the very last of his strength to spring the last few yards and tackled Sally forcefully onto the walkway. He felt a slight twinge at his left side, but not much else as they both tumbled to the ground, spinning a few times. Singer had barely missed them, but miss he did. In a desperate attempt, he tried to swing the car around to try again and for a moment John was certain this was it for both Donovan and himself, as they still lay helpless on the ground. But the car was at too high a speed and swayed too much. The car rolled over and with a loud crash wrapped itself around the nearest lamppost on the other side of the road.

For a moment, John laid completely still, nothing but his chest heaving in the effort to try and catch his breath, with Sally still wrapped up protectively in his arms. Slowly the adrenaline started to ebb away and he could feel Sally shaking in his arms and hear the dozen footsteps of the other yarders running towards them. John eased his grip a little to look down at the sergeant. Sally returned his gaze, her eyes still filled with fright, but also gratitude.

"Are you alright?" John panted slightly.

Sally nodded slowly.

"Thanks to you, yeah." She answered softly, the chock clearly still affecting her.

The other yarders finally reached them, some of them having side-tracked to check on Singer in the car, though there was no way he'd have survived a crash like that. Lestrade and Sherlock were, not surprisingly, the first to reach the two. Lestrade helped Sally to her feet and held her steady, his eyes roaming over her worriedly while looking for injuries.

"Bloody hell are you alright Sally?! Should I call an ambulance?"

Sally seemed to finally return a bit to her old self.

"No, no.. I'm alright. Thanks to John. It's only a few scrapes." She said.

Sherlock bent down to help John up where he lay on his back, still slightly out of breath, but feeling more like himself again. It wasn't until Sherlock helped him into a sitting position that he had to grit his teeth and clench his eyes shut when a sharp pain shot through the left side of his ribcage.

"John?! John what's wrong?!" Sherlock asked in a panicked voice as he watched his doctor take himself to the left side of his chest.

"Bloody hell.." John cursed softly between his teeth. "The Bastard must have hit my side with his sidemirror." He finished. He just hadn't felt it in his adrenaline fuelled state. Now as the adrenaline wore off he could feel the pain starting to blossom fiercely across his chest region. He definitely had some broken ribs, of that he was sure.

Sherlock looked up at Lestrade. "I think that ambulance would be a splendid idea after all detective inspector." He said curtly in an attempt to hide his worry for his doctor.

"Yes, yes of course!" Lestrade pulled out his phone to dial.

"Urrg.. Yeah, this isn't working Sherlock, I need to lay back down." John groaned. The position he was in putting too much stain on his ribs, making it difficult to breath.

"Right, sorry John." Sherlock said he started to lower John back down.

Quickly Sally kneeled on John's other side. "Here, rest your head on this." She said as she hurried to fold up her jacket into a makeshift pillow and placed it under his head.

"You're going to freeze Sally." Sherlock said, but still adjusted the temporary pillow under John's head to make him as comfortable as possible.

"John just saved my life. I can survive a few minutes in the cold." She stated simply.

Sherlock eyed her a few seconds before he too pulled off his Belstaff coat and placed it on top of John's form to shield him from the cold as much as possible.

From his place down on the ground John then witnessed a sight he'd never thought possible. Sherlock and Sally shared a small smile between them and he couldn't help himself.

"Wow, just look at the two of you getting along so nicely." He said with as much humour as he could master in his current state.

Sherlock and Sally both looked down at John at said in choir. "Shut up John." But their voices too held a slight humours tone to it.

Sherlock took one of John's hands firmly in his own and brought it up to his lips to plant a soft kiss onto it. Normally they would never show such obvious affections in public, preferring to do so in private, but the detective just couldn't help himself.

As Sally witnessed that sweet gesture she couldn't help but feel ashamed that she ever doubted these two men's love for each other. She looked at John, who'd now become her saviour. She'd always known he was a good man. Brave, strong and kind. And now he'd risked his own life without second thought to save her. Even though she'd never treated his lover or John himself for that matter well in the past. Still, if John could find love in Sherlock Holmes, then maybe she should try and be more accommodating towards the detective too.

In the distance sirens could be heard, getting closer and closer to their destination. As the ambulance loaded John into the back, Sherlock following right after, Sally promised herself that she would change for the better. After tonight she owed at least John that much.