It didn't start like much of anything at all. Sherlock was meeting John at a crime scene- the latter having been at his girlfriends when the former called him.

He didn't have enough cash on him for a cab, so Sherlock hopped on a bus. He sat down and did what he did best; observe.

He could see that the older man across the isle was very lonely, his wife died quite recently. His children didn't really care for him.

Stumbling off the bus was a tired looking woman, most likely late for her dead-end desk job fetching coffee for her pervert boss that ogled her, judging by her large bust that was covered by a thick turtleneck sweater.

"Morning Robbie." A voice said. A young woman was greeting the bus driver as she walked on; carrying a spiral bound notebook and a pen.

"Mornin' luv." The driver smiled.

She took her seat across from Sherlock; finally, an interesting specimen. She had thick, long light blonde hair, though with darker roots. Dyed, natural color was most likely dark blonde or light blonde. Hazel and green eyes- most likely dark blonde hair then.

Her face was angular, full bottom lip with a narrow cupids bow. Bottom lip showed significant signs of chewing- nervous habit.

She was hidden beneath a large purple jumper, thick dark jeans and knee high boots. Perhaps self esteem issues- though the general air of confidence shows otherwise. Something to hide, maybe?

She had a thick coat of makeup on her face, and upon closer inspection Sherlock could see slight discoloration under her left eye.

Conclusion: hiding bruises and abrasions beneath baggy clothes. Most likely a case of domestic violence.

Open sketchbook- not notebook- skilled contour drawing of the lonely man on one side. Other side, filled with color, vibrant, full of life-

"Can I help you?" the woman asked suddenly. She didn't sound rude and snippy, like most. No, she seemed genuinely curious.

"No, no." Sherlock shook his head and looked away.

He felt something touch his arm and saw that the woman had moved to sit next to him.

"I don't mean to be rude but..." she bit her lip. "You wouldn't happen to be Sherlock Holmes, would you?"

"Well, that all depends on who's asking." She has an accent. Sherlock thought. American. Though not from the States. Canada, perhaps?

"My name's Katie." She held her hand out. "I've read your website, and a blog about you and Dr. Watson."

Sherlock looked down at her hand; it was covered in a fingerless back mesh glove. Katie dropped it after a moment.

"I think it's really awesome, what you do." She continued, but Sherlock remained silent.

What was there to say? His throat seemed to have dried up. Katie chewed on her lip a moment more before standing.

"I'm sorry if I bothered you."

Sherlock seemed to get his power of speech back. "Not at all! Terribly sorry. My mind was elsewhere."

She smiled at him. "So is this how you spend your mornings? Sitting on the bus and studying people?"

"How did you know I was-"

"I caught you, remember?" Katie giggled. "Though I could be wrong. Did you find anything interesting out about me?"

Sherlock looked for another moment. Calloused hands, smudges of black between the right pointer and middle fingers. Silver chain hanging from neck with matching pendant- engraved locket that says Love Always X. J

"You're an artist." He commented. "You're new to London, most likely from Canada. Though this is more than just a visit, you've been here long enough to take this bus often enough to know the driver. Most likely moved in with your boyfriend- started out as a summer fling ended up with something more. Am I right?"

Katie looked impressed. "Very good. Now how did you deduce this?"

"The smudges on your fingers are from charcoal or pastel- the book your carrying is a sketchbook along with a pen for a quick sketch when on the go." Sherlock stated. "Your accent is a dead giveaway, and as for your relationship status- your necklace. It's a gift from someone that cares much more than just a family member or a friend. Someone you'd have to care for an awful lot to move away with them. Why else would you leave your home?"

The bus slowed to a careful stop and Katie stood. "I'm impressed, Detective. It was very nice meeting you." With a small wave Katie stepped off the bus.

The driver was just about to press the gas pedal when Sherlock stopped him. "Wait one moment please."

"Look mate, 're you off 'r on?"

"Off." Sherlock hurried after the woman he barely knew. "Wait!" he shouted.

Katie turned around and looked surprised. Sherlock stopped in front of her, panting. "I know more about you. But I don't like knowing it and not doing anything about it.

"You're very bright and open minded. You see the world differently, in a unique perspective that's dying out. You play an instrument; you can make something out of nothing at all. But someone's suppressing you. I suspect your boyfriend, judging by how your eyes hardened when I mentioned him.

"Again, just now it happened. Katie, if he's hurting you, leave him. If you're scared, call the police. Don't let him do this to you- you're too...good, for that."

Hazel and green eyes looked up at Sherlock like they wanted to tear up, but didn't have it in them. "Why are you saying this?"

"You believe that I cannot feel this way. You think of me as John describes on his blog, yes?"

Katie nodded slightly. "But there's more to you. No one's as they appear."

Sherlock felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He read the text quickly.

Where are you?

JW

"Give me your phone." He told Katie, who took out an iPhone in a blue and black Batman case.

Sherlock punched in his phone number and sent himself a text so that he would have her number. "If you don't want to call the police on him, text me."

He handed her the phone back, and Katie looked up at him, curious. She was quite shorter than him, by at least a head.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked.

Sherlock paused. "I don't know." He replied honestly. "But I'm...glad that I am..."

He began walking in the direction of the crime scene when he heard Katie say softly: "So am I."

He really didn't know why he was helping her. He saw her case all the time. But there was something about this girl...something that made Sherlock Holmes want to know more.