Sherlock Holmes was not a man who was fond of women. He never delighted in the nature of female attitudes. He was a man of brain more than heart, which was always clear in him when around the opposite sex. His mind would often be more dominant and would overshadow his heart, which made it very difficult for me wonder, whether he is a man who can love. I assumed that he was not a man who would fall in love with a woman, but there was a voice telling me in my mind, that love is in every man, once he finds it. I have observed Holmes is nothing but a reasoning machine. A frigid and recluse man with a cold exterior and untouched heart. A Black Beetle with no desire to love, no need to love, no reason to love. But as days went by, I began to think. Maybe, there was a possible soft heart in him that beat against his chest, that could easily skip a beat, in the presence of beautiful woman. He seldom became interested in women, save for their resourceful purposes during cases. But I think every man loves, even Holmes, a man who has seldom loved. A man who doesn't love is completely impossible. Love is in any man. Love is always there in a man. But, what I know of Holmes's theory on love, is that he doesn't succumb to it. He assumes it would take over his mind, which is dearly important to him, and would badly affect his career.

Indeed, Holmes still keeps a photograph of Irene Adler or "The Woman" , locked in his study drawer. Which I think is mostly based on his admiration by her wit and cleverness, which Holmes seldom saw in women. I wonder whether, there is a small amount of love locked within his callous exterior, which he never unfolds before me and never speaks of. But then I doubt myself, the more I puzzle over it. Holmes appears to a most unfeeling man through my days with him. It confuses me. I try to wonder. I live with my dear wife, and feel nothing but sympathy for my friend; knowing he has no love in his life, which makes him more of a cold and distant man. A beautiful woman with a clever mind, humour and unique personality, would indeed, bring him to his senses. A woman of cleverness and interest in criminals, may bring him above the surface. But, despite my thoughts, Holmes was hard and awkward to manipulate and change.

It is now I will start my story of why I have come to focus on this matter. Two days ago now, I had visited 221B as he invited me over for an evening coffee. Gladly I went over and had wonderful conversations on varied subjects that interested him. We got onto the subject of space, which he tried to change the topic, as he never believes that space is an important subject in his mind. I began to question him. He naturally became resentful in talking about it which caused a small dispute between us, which was then interrupted by an abrupt occurrence. Mrs Hudson knocked and introduced a woman. A very petite and young woman entered the sitting room, beautiful and doll-like. She had dark brown, marble-like eyes, mousy brown hair and luxurious curls hanging delicately from an updo. "This is Miss Elizabeth Winter, sir. She has something she wishes to say to you."

Holmes stood up out of his chair and gave a brief smile. "Thankyou, Mrs Hudson." He remarked as he offered the smiling visitor a seat as Mrs Hudson departed to go down the stairs.

"Thankyou, Mr Holmes." Her voice was absolutely angelic. "Thankyou for seeing me." She replied as Holmes sat in his seat once more and offered our guest a seat on the couch.

It was then Mrs Hudson, knocked at the door. Holmes sighed in annoyance. "Come in!"

Mrs Hudson wandered in with a pile of laundry which hid her face. "Mr Holmes, will you please not leave your laundry, in a big mess, at the bottom of the stairs." She exclaimed as her face appeared around the dirty sheets. "I tripped up on the them!, it's very dangerous!" Holmes gave a look of weariness.

"I apologize, Mrs Hudson. You never tell me where to put them!" he replied, arching his eyebrows, a tad frustrated at her intrusion.

She gave an exhausted sigh "I've told you, Sir, just give them to me when you need them washing. There is really no need to leave them everywhere where people can hurt themselves."

Holmes pursed his lips and blinked. "Yes, well. Thankyou, Mrs Hudson" He grinned at her, clearly taking delight in annoying his frustrated landlady. She eased in to Holmes in annoyance "I nearly injured myself, you know!" Holmes blinked in indifference.

"Mrs Hudson, will you vanish?" He gave a impish grin once more as she exhaled a exasperated breath and walked out in an irritant manner. Our guest gave a sympathetic titter, as she became amused at the landlady's exhaustion and frustrated manner.

"Still the same old Mrs Hudson." She remarked. In which Holmes frowned. "You know her then?"

"Oh, yes. She used to be my nanny when I was little. I won't bore you with the details, but she looked after me and my sister, at my home in the Lake District, when my parents were away. She always worked her fingers to the bone to keep us happy and healthy. Always running around after us."

Holmes smiled a soft smile at our guest and leaned against the arm of the chair. "What is it you want to say to us, Miss Winter?"

She paused as she gave a youthful smile. "You may be expecting some case or strange occurrence in my statement.." She began " But I will say I have not come to ask you for assistance or help. I have simply come to say thank you."

Holmes furrowed his brow.

"Thankyou? What on earth for?"

She blinked in admiration "For saving my sisters life."

Holmes appeared confused. "Saving your sisters life? Who is your sister?"

"Abigail Hamilton."

My friend's expression lightened as a smile spread across his lean features. "Ah! Ms Hamilton. John Hamilton's daughter. The woman who had the unfortunate luck of getting involved with that hideous, loathsome man, Andrei Vankov, The Bulgarian Murderer. Hideous business, was it not, Watson?" My friend gave me a pitiful look.

"Indeed. Not the most pleasant of souls." I added.

"Yes." The woman opposite quietly spoke.

"The moment she met him, I knew he was bad news. She had often spoke good of him, and how much he made her happy. How he made her smile. How he made her feel special and loved. But had I not seen his.."

She stopped as she lowered her head disgust, appearing to be in discomfort. "...his horrible..horrible book of poor unfortunate souls of whom he had..." She sat, with her eyes fixed on the fireplace, her eyes sparkled with a slight, unproduced tear.

"Of course.." Holmes replied, smiling with sympathy. "whom he had.." Holmes paused in a delicate manner "Murdered.."

She gave a fake smile towards my friend. "I felt such terror. Such terror for my sister that I just didn't know what to do. Then, of course , my mother knew of this and suggested I came to you and your good friend, to deal with the matter. And it was fortunate that I did so! If not for you Mr Holmes and Dr Watson, my sister.." She stopped and fiddled with her nails.

"Well...she would have been taken away from me!" Our guest moved forward in her seat with a sweet smile. She stood up and went over to Holmes with open arms. "I hope you don't find me too forward, but may I?"

I could see from my friend he was confused. He gave me an almost panicked glance, but kept his grace and stood up slowly as he timidly adjusted his pocket watch.

"Forgive, my dear, but a handshake would be more formal, would it not?"

She blinked a soft blink as she kept her position, with her arms were spread out before him. "Please, Mr Holmes? You saved my sister. You saved my life from such a hideous maniac. You saved the most important person in my life and you were indeed very kind and considerate with my problem for which I am incredibly grateful, and I wouldn't feel happy if you didn't get a proper thankyou."

Holmes's eyes lowered in embarrassment and glanced at me in need. I simply gave him a encouraged smile and gesture.

"Very well." Holmes mumbled as he slowly put his arms around her, in which she embraced him tightly around his neck. "Thankyou." She mumbled from behind his ear. It was then, Holmes's awkward look disappeared. He smiled such a warm smile. A smile which I never saw before. His eyes slowly closed, with a tender expression on his face, which surprised me. She then kissed him on the cheek which made him swallow in embarrassment.

"My pleasure." He let her go slowly as she grinned and giggled. "I hope I didn't make you feel uncomfortable, Mr Holmes."

Holmes had his back to her as he grabbed his pipe. "Not at all." He simply said, without looking at her.

"Goodbye, Mr Holmes. Goodbye, Dr Watson. Thankyou again."

Holmes glanced at her with a smile and gave her a dismissive hand flick. With that, she vanished.

I looked at my companion in searching gaze as he beamed at me as he went over to the window, and leant on the sill.

"That look, Watson, does not suit you." he replied in his snooty tone.

I sat down in amusement, but curiosity at the unexpected tender moment, which had just occurred. I glanced from the door to Holmes.

"Lovely girl." I added with a smile.

"Indeed. The opposite sex is your department, my dear Watson." he perked up but frowned, quite a thoughtful look across his face as he glared out the window, watching her leave.

"What?" I added.

"Nothing, my dear fellow."

"Holmes, theres something wrong. What is it?"

"Nothing you need to worry about, my good friend." He smiled and replied.

I did not know what thoughts were going round in his complicated mind, but the previous embrace he had encountered with our charming guest, had clearly imprinted on his mind.

"I've never seen you be so tender with a client, Holmes."

He gave a nasally laugh. "That hug was clearly needed by her. I could tell from your expression Watson, that it shocked you that I accepted her affectionate gratitude."

"Well, yes Holmes. You normally shy away from any type of affection clients so kindly give to you. You are positively inhuman at times."

He gave me a smirk. " Affection with clients isn't what I specialize in, Watson." He laughed and paused. "But sometimes, affection that is caused by gratitude for my work, is clear in a person. Miss Winter's sister clearly meant alot to her." He added watching the streets of busy, old London.

"How was that hug, ol' fellow?" I questioned him.

He looked at me and smiled to himself. "Not unpleasant."

I stared at him with a questioned look as it appeared to me Holmes was amused by our visitors affectionate manner.

"You looked like you enjoyed it" I remarked, picking up some books off the floor, of which Holmes had left there the night before.

He blinked at me and sighed.

"I must admit, Watson. It was..exhilarating." He smirked.

I stared at him as he glanced at me. He returned his look outside the window as he sighed and frowned in thought.

"Are you sure everything is alright, Holmes?"

"Everything is perfect, dear fellow." He grinned.

"Every woman who visits 221 B seems to be beautiful, do they not Watson? Personal qualities in women always centre around beauty and innocence. That always seems to be the paradigm of the opposite sex."

"Did you think she was beautiful then, Holmes?" I humoured.

He paused as he gave me an amused expression, but then returned his look out the window. "Fairly beautiful, Watson." I looked at him as his gleaming smile had gone. But instead, he put his hand to his mouth in intent thought. His brows had furrowed.

He appeared to be in his own zone. I could tell something had grabbed him in his mind. His nostrils was flared, eyes became soft and posture became relaxed. Our guest had somewhat gave him an impression him which he appeared to be pondering over. When she embraced him, he embraced her back, which was not like Holmes at all. He would rarely be affectionate with the human race, but something had changed in him after she had left. I believed Holmes had lack of interest in humans, but Miss Winter had clearly interested him. Not in a loving way, but in a platonic way. Her sweet, child-like innocence, I believed, had intrigued him.