Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.
A/N This was a little bit experimental if I'm honest...hope you enjoy
Sally Donavan had not signed up for this. She was currently stood outside 221b Baker Street, in the freezing cold, clutching a bag of newly collected 'evidence', waiting for her boss, the Freak and his 'friend' or whatever he was, to show up.
She tried knocking on the door again as a fresh gust of wind sent shivers through her body. No answer.
'Bloody hurry up,' she muttered to no-one as she turned to look back up the street. She had come straight from interviewing a witness after receiving a message from Lestrade to collect some items from said witnesses' house; The Freak thought they were important, apparently, and he also needed to use his own computer, and not a 'stupid, slow Yard one', hence why she was now outside his flat.
'Bloody Freak,' she cursed rather loudly, shooting a dirty look at a passer-by who'd stopped to stare. Sally made no secret of the fact that she disliked the Freak. She wasn't stupid; she knew he was good at what he did, brilliant even, but it was the way he went about it and his attitude that annoyed her the most. As far as Sally was concerned, Sherlock Holmes should be locked away. It was only a matter of time before he snapped, she thought. After all he was an arrogant, unbalanced, sociopath Freak, who kept human eyes in his microwave and she hadn't ever known him to be anything else.
'Oh thank God,' she stated as a taxi pulled up and Lestrade stepped out followed by the others, 'You took your time.'
'Yeah, sorry,' Lestrade replied.
'Mrs Hudson's not in then?' John asked as he bent over to pay the driver. Sherlock had fished his key out of his pocket and was opening the door. Trust him to leave the paying to someone else, Sally thought as she filed in after the others through the door.
'Did you get the stuff?' her boss asked as they started up the stairs. Sherlock was in front, followed by John and Lestrade and then Sally.
'Yeah. What exactly is it...' Sally stopped talking as she bumped into the back of suddenly none-moving Lestrade, 'What the hell?'
'Something's wrong.' Sally could hear Sherlock saying from above her on the steps.
'Sherlock what..' John began but the Freak interrupted him with a loud shout of 'MRS HUDSON?' and another, 'MRS HUDSON?'
'Sherlock, what's going on? She clearly not...' Lestrade tried to get an explanation but he too was cut off- this time with a loud shout of 'MOVE!' from Sherlock as he waved wildly at them all to get out of his way as he barged back down the stairs, straight towards his landlady's door.
'She didn't answer the door but I can smell her perfume.' This was the only reasoning Sherlock gave before he opened the door and took off inside.
Sally couldn't think of anything to say other than to ask 'What the hell?' again but she could tell by the looks Lestrade and John gave her that they were just as confused by this turn of events as she was. They all moved into action though when a cry of 'John, come now!' came from inside Mrs Hudson's flat. Sally could have sworn that as well as sounding incredibly urgent, the cry had traces of fear in it- that couldn't be right, surely? Sherlock Holmes didn't get scared. She shook the thought out of her head as she entered the flat and saw what had caused Sherlock's strange behaviour. Mrs Hudson was sprawled out unconscious on her kitchen floor.
John, as Sally would have expected, had sprung into 'doctor mode' and was by Mrs Hudson's side, trying to rouse her and ascertain whether she had injuries etc. Lestrade had said he would phone an ambulance so Sally decided that she would take on the role of 'comforter' taking hold of Mrs. Hudson's hand and reassuring her that everything would be ok. It was only after a few moments, during which Sally had listened while John informed them that he was fairly certain the landlady had taken a nasty fall and had, amongst other things, dislocated her shoulder, she wondered where exactly the Freak had got to. When she looked up though, she never expected to see what she saw; standing in the door of the kitchen was Sherlock looking lost. Gone was the Sociopath and in his place was nothing more than a lost looking child.
Apparently Sally wasn't the only person to notice Sherlock in this state. She watched as John stood up, put a reassuring hand on his arm and told him that he could go and wait for the ambulance.
'Lestrade has given them the address,' Sherlock sounded confused.
'Yes, but they'll need to be let in,' John responded without any condescension.
'Oh' was the last thing Sally heard Sherlock say before he disappeared back into the hall.
'The ambulance is on its way.' Lestrade announced as popped his mobile back in his pocket and re-entered the kitchen. 'How is she?' he asked the still standing John.
'In need of the hospital,' John quietly answered, truthfully.
'How did he know?' Sally decided to ask; her thoughts still unable to process everything she had witnessed in the last few minutes.
'How did who know?' Lestrade asked.
'The Fre...Sherlock, how did he know about...' Sally finished her sentence by directing her gaze to Mrs Hudson, whose hand she was still holding.
Lestrade replied quickly with 'who knows' but John seemed to think for a second before answering with; 'I don't think he did. I think he just noticed something was wrong. How he did that though, I've got no idea.'
'Just thank God he did.' Lestrade added and Sally couldn't help but agree. She squeezed Mrs. Hudson's hand and whispered so no-one could hear her;
'Your tenant hasn't half surprised me tonight, Mrs Hudson.'
...
John was impressed with himself, he had to admit. He had made a deduction of his own and what's more, it was one that Sherlock would never get. Well, probably never. He wouldn't put a bet on anything Sherlock related; the man was, after all, unpredictable personified.
He wandered over to Sergeant Donavan who was now standing, conveniently alone, by the police tape, at the edge of the latest crime scene.
'You've confused him, you know,' John told her and watched as she turned to look at him.
'What?'
'Well, actually, you've confused them both but Lestrade will probably just brush it off... Sherlock, however... you should be pleased with yourself really. Not many people confuse him.' John smirked slightly as Sally's face clearly told him that she hadn't worked out what he was on about. 'May be this is what being Sherlock feels like' John wondered and then he wondered whether he should be worried that he was enjoying the feeling.
'Look, I don't know what...' Sally began but John decided not to let her finish;
'You didn't call him 'freak'. Not once, tonight, have you called him 'freak'' John started to explain. He continued as Sally had begun to glare at him, 'He surprised you the other day, didn't he? With Mrs. Hudson? Sherlock surprised you.'
'Don't be...' Sally response was weak.
'He'd hate it if I told him the reason why you're not calling him 'freak' anymore and so that's why you should keep doing it,' John stated giving a light laugh, 'Because he is a freak really. He'd rather you thought him a heartless bastard then know that you recognised him being scared, concerned...'
The doctor trailed off as he saw that Sally finally understood what he was saying to her. She nodded her head slowly and then said truthfully;
'It's just...I have never seen him so...human.'
John smiled, 'Not many people do.'
'He should show that side more often.'
'We both know that's not going to happen.'
'So...You want me to keep calling him 'freak'?'
'Hmmm. It's easier this way. Like I said, you've confused him already. The last thing you, or I, need is for him to turn this into a puzzle when he next gets bored.'
'John, we need to go to the restaurant.' Sherlock's firm voice interrupted the Doctor and Sergeant's conversation as he walked passed them and ducked underneath the police tape. John gave Sally a small nod.
'Oi, Freak, don't go hiding any evidence this time,' she stated loudly.
Sherlock stopped in his tracks, turned and raised his eyebrows slightly before resuming a completely neutral, if a little arrogant expression, 'I wouldn't dream of it, Sally,' he drawled smoothly. He then turned back and set off walking again.
John gave Sally a thankful look before he followed his, for once, oblivious friend.
...