Hello everyone! This is my first fanfic! (I hope you can't tell ;) ) I decided to add a new character in the mix just for Sherlock, so I apologize if I switch the focus to much! Also apologies for any errors! I'm finding the Chapters a bit hard to sort out at the moment, so please bear with me! Hope you enjoy it ;)


"That was ridiculous,"

Sherlock's only reaction to this was his sneaky smirk, something reserved only for John. They had just piled in through the door, hanging up wet coats as they did so, before climbing up the stairs only to meet quite a flustered Mrs. Hudson.

"Oh your back...oh well... you see dears...my niece is...umm...well" she stuttered not getting the words out, the two men drove her back up the stairs and into the living room of 221B.

"Is that...Is that the shower going?" a quizzical John asked, he glanced round to the bathroom.

"Of course," said Sherlock looking directly at Mrs Hudson, who proceeded to blush, "And I think that Mrs. Hudson here was about to tell us that her niece is in it."

"What?" John quickly swung his head back round, with a face that made Sherlock smirk again.

"Well, mine is broken and she's travelled all the way up from-"

A bang echoed from the bathroom and the shower promptly turned off.

"Auntie? Ow, oh crap, I just grabbed this towel," A figure emerged from the bathroom, head bowed so she couldn't see the party awaiting her arrival, fumbling with hair pins to let down her long hair.

"I mean, are you sure they...?" the end trailed off as she looked up. She was tall – not quite as tall as Sherlock – and thin – thinner than him definitely, something that John had not thought possible and her twisting brown curls contrasted with her pale skin. She was wrapped in a worn green towel and wore a slightly bemused expression, mouth slightly open.

"Sherlock, John, this is my niece-"

"Kate, well Catherine," she smiled and stepped forward, holding up the top of her towel she stuck out her hand,

"John? And...? Sorry?"

"Sherlock"

"Oh yes, sorry" she shook his hand too slightly bobbing, then stepped back curling her bare feet into the carpet.

It was the first time someone had gone to John first over Sherlock; much less remember him more, this startled both men, Sherlock's porcelain face twisted then returned to its original intrigue.

"Well, I'll just-" she gestured to the bathroom, still not looking away from Sherlock.

"Of course," Sherlock nodded.

She backed in, grabbed her clothes, carefully disguising any showing underwear and walked out to join her aunt at the door, they both turned to leave.

"Oh, and thank you!" she called, bobbing again then followed Mrs. Hudson down the stairs.

"Well dear, that could have-"

"Why the hell did I curtsey?"


Of course there had been the first incident of the meeting of the head. It was a few days after the initial meeting – a strategy to lay low for a while.

"Need to use the shower?" was Sherlock's way of announcing her presence. It was met with a nervous laugh.

"No, some milk actually, Mrs. Hudson is not used to having someone else in the flat, especially someone who bakes a load of cakes and the like." She smiled.

"Surprises me, the shower, it has been 2 days now."

Kate grabbed her t-shirt,

"Do I...O, wait is this that thing, that thing you do?"

"That thing? In this case it is one of the simplest steps of logic I could make..."

By this time she had gone into the kitchen with a nod from John. She picked up a plastic container of the counter top and moved to the fridge.

"...the cakes, now that isn't a surprise, simply because..."

"AHHH!" followed by a clatter.

Sherlock actually jumped up and went over to a startled Kate. The container was on the floor and she had stepped back leaning on the table hand over mouth.

"The head?" John asked, a hint of amusement in his voice, but he was much more focused on Sherlock's actions. Sherlock, himself, opened the fridge and took out the milk. Kate's eye never moved off him once. He bent down for the plastic container and handed them both to her. She took them her hand brushing his. Sherlock looked at her momentarily then broke away and moved out of the kitchen. Kate followed him out and went to the door slightly shell-shocked.

"A cup of tea normally helps," said a helpful John in the corner. She turned and a short, sharp laugh escaped her.

"So, anyone important?" she giggled.

"It's an experiment." exhaled Sherlock,

"Oh, of course how stupid of me, is this milk drinkable?" Kate was still giggling.

Sherlock shook his head, but smiled when John joined in her laughter.

"Be sure to bring us up some cookies!"

"Cakes John, and why else do you think she took the container?"

Kate left with one last giggle.


They bumped into each other the stairs smiling, Sherlock actually moved, she came to borrow more milk and as yet had not had the `full Sherlock-treatment`. He actually smiled with true warmth, it was clear to John that the first meeting and the one that followed had definitely entertained him. The first case was solved with considerable ease, so Kate became a regular visitor. It was obvious that she much preferred the two men's company over her aunt, who fussed too much for nearly everyone's liking and so much so that it seemed these two became her relief from the real world. She was quite willing to make them cups of tea and had even offered to clean; it was seen as an effort to get rid of that guilty and embarrassed feeling of using a stranger's shower. Though it was obvious to John that it wasn't just these domestic offers that allowed Kate to sing in the kitchen, even when Sherlock was working, or to laugh or engage in `idle prattle`.

She was interested mostly in their adventures, as she called them. She sat cross-legged at the end of the sofa, mug of tea in hand listening intently; the comfiest Sherlock had seen anyone around him, except maybe John. She seemed as equally fascinated as John by Sherlock's `gifts` and would often ask him to go into greater detail, much to John's surprise he would. From this they led on to how Sherlock and John met. Sherlock described John to her as he had seen that first day at Barts.

"Well then Kate, what about you? Any `adventures`?" asked John,

"Do you really need to ask me?" she replied, staring fixedly at Sherlock.

"I really don't think that's a-"

Sherlock had already scooted along the sofa to be within inches of Kate's face, their knees touching. It was evident she was trying desperately not to laugh.

"You've come here to get away, Mrs. Hudson is really your Great-Aunt so you haven't regularly visited . Bad break up? Yes or maybe...pressure from mother? High expectations of you, needed a change, but not quite adjusting here yet. Missing home and someone you left behind. Your feeling guilty. Aspiring writer or just undecided, more so the latter. Not what your parents wanted or expected. Now this break-up-"

"Kate?"

John looked up to see Mrs Hudson in the doorway,

"Kate, it's your mother."

Kate didn't move.

"She wants to talk to you."

Neither did Sherlock.

"Kate?"

"I don't want to." She remained motionless.

"You will have to at some point. Kate?" Mrs Hudson sighed, giving up on her lost cause and creaked down the stairs. Kate rose to follow. She wrapped her overly-large knitted cardigan around her.

"Well done," she whispered and silently left without her usual smile.

For all the times John had seen Sherlock give people lists of what was wrong with them and their lives, he had never been like this. He wrung his hands, knowing what he had rekindled and brought to the surface. It was like he was stuck on a case, just one little snag he got caught on. Trying to deduce more about the woman? Or was it him struggling with his own feelings? John wondered. Although the case had been `easy` Sherlock had definitely been distracted towards the end, and for once he stared back into those eyes staring at him instead of ignoring them with ease. John chuckled. What a couple they would make.


Sherlock grabbed her hand and pulled her close. He stroked her cheek, stared into her eyes. He lent forward...BANG!

Kate woke with a start. Still slightly confused from her dream she reached for her cardigan hanging over the chair. She flicked on the light as she went into the kitchen, wincing as the light hit her eyes, and as she saw the clock on the wall. She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table, head in hands trying to figure out that reoccurring dream. She had initially been startled by Sherlock's perfectly defined features, but had naturally been attracted to him. Kate sighed. She was all muddled. Of course, she didn't like him in that way, she had just got out of a serious relationship it was just a passing fancy, a distraction. Besides, a man like him probably had some girl being strung along somewhere.

Another shuffle and clang echoed out from the hall. Maybe that bang wasn't just in her dream? Kate gingerly moved to the door, opened it slightly on to find a very out of breath Sherlock and John.

"Evening,"

This simple comment was too much for her to bear.

"Do have any idea what time it is?"

"2ish maybe"

"What the hell are you? Midnight rovers?"

"My dear, maybe you should go back to bed? Sorry for our loud entrance." This calming comment from Sherlock hit Kate. She realized that standing in a doorway in an overly large knitted cardigan, snoopy pyjamas and throwing a tantrum in front of the man who had (in your dreams) been passionately kissing you was not the sexiest thing to do. But then why did she care about being sexy?

Both men had turned up the stairs, obviously expecting her to follow. She groaned. Even she knew she would go. She returned inside grabbed her coffee, slipped on some bed socks and sorted out her bed hair. Well, just in case.

"So where have the dirty little stop-outs been tonight? Hell, I feel like your mother!" she laughed – well as much as you can at half past two in the morning.

"Oh, I hope not." passed Sherlock.

Kate stopped laughing and looked at him. Did that have some double meaning? Even John turned to look at him, but Sherlock oblivious to everyone tapped away on his Blackberry.

"Where did you come from?" a straight question from him moved on the freeze-frame.

"Well, it was-" was given a confused answer.

"Cornwall, no?"

"Yes, but it was-"

"And this relationship? What can you tell me about that?"

"Well, y'know, I don't really want to talk about it and why does-"

"I don't see what's wrong?"

"Sherlock."

"What John? I only need to know in what the relationship ended. Over what causes."

"But Sherlock-"

"I'm going back to bed." Announced Kate and left as quickly as she could. Her dreams of Sherlock Holmes were sure to become very different now.

"Well done."

"What? What did I do wrong?"

"Just because you don't feel emotional attachment other humans do."

"Are you insinuating that I am not human John?"

"On the emotional front probably not."

Again this made Sherlock smirk, but he himself was feeling uncomfortable. He really didn't mean to keep doing this, well maybe he did but not to Kate. He did enjoy her company and her take on things had aided him in several ways. And although, he would not admit it to himself he did find her attractive. The English rose effect had taken over him, or maybe it was just the likenesses to him. It was probably just because he had no interesting cases on at the moment. Well actually this new one Lestrade had shown them early on had originally proved a simple open-and-shut case – a simple domestic – but now beneath the surface Sherlock felt there was more, prompted by Kate's situation. Besides, he thought, all of this is just eating away at his brain. Still it wouldn't hurt to make amends, if had somehow offended her, and this way it would be easier to get any information out of her. Dinner perhaps? Surprise work visit? Would that suggest something else? As always in emotional matters he turned to John.

"Should I take her out to dinner?"

"Who?"

"Kate of course, really John!"

"Well...I suppose, if you wanted-"

"I could surprise her at work."

"Yes, I'm sure she'd like that very much." Replied John, struggling to stifle a chuckle, he had never thought he had such a good sense of deduction.

"Well then, it's settled," Sherlock said dismissively, "Goodnight John."
"You're going to bed?"

"Of course not, but you are, judging by the look of you."