Disclaimer: And still not mine. Except for Ian for now. Soon he'll be Sally's though.

A/N: Remember Killian Owen Brody? I do. Can't forget him. He's infested my mind and said that Sgt. Sally needs him. He's insisted on becoming a character in this series. He doesn't care that his personality is already a character in another story of mine. He wants to be in the Honey 'Verse too, so I'm allowing it because he's loud and pushy…at least in my head. Besides it's a good idea. Sally needs someone to help ground her and John needs someone besides Lestrade to help him run interference between Sherlock and Sally. So enjoy the story and let me know what you think of Ian.

The Case of the Innocent Artist

The Gallery

Sgt. Sally Donovan stood beneath the umbrella protecting her from the fierce rain shivering. The umbrella wasn't doing much good though it was keeping her face free from the lashing rain. It had been raining for four days straight and London was near drowning in the unexpected waterfall from the sky.

"Sgt. Donovan?" The PC at her side asked quietly. "Why did the DI send us out here like this? It's pouring," she complained.

Sally barely resisted rolling her eyes. "Because he's sent for reinforcements and we need to guide them to the scene."

"Good thing the scene itself is inside," the PC muttered. "Otherwise all the evidence would be washed away and then Humphrey, I mean Dr. Anderson, would be very unhappy."

"Anderson's an idiot," Sally muttered back. "The Freak could find evidence even in this downpour."

The PC scowled at her. "He said you'd say that. Humphrey's brilliant."

Sally muffled her snort of derisive amusement and watched the approaching cab intently. She ignored the latest of Anderson's conquests to the best of her ability.

"Sally! Penny! Come inside out of the rain!" As if called by their thoughts, Anderson stood just under the awning of the art gallery and called out to them. PC Penelope Chelton started to walk towards him but Sally's hand shot out and stayed her motion before she'd taken a single step.

"DI Lestrade is in charge of the scene and he sent us out to wait for Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson. A good PC does as her superior tells her, Chelton," she growled. "Don't move." Her eyes never left the cab that had come to a stop just down the block.

"But Humphrey's—" the PC started.

"I don't care if he says he's God himself," Sally interrupted. "Lestrade's in charge not Anderson."

Chelton swallowed hard, looked over at Anderson and then straightened her back and held the umbrella more firmly over their heads. "Yes ma'am," she said stoutly.

From the corner of her eye, Sally saw Anderson's fierce scowl and her lips twitched for a moment in a half smile. Then Anderson stepped out into the street and Sally found her own scowl as he fought his way through the rain to come and stand just under the umbrella with them.

"You two need to come back inside the building where it's dry," he said loudly to be heard over the thunder and pounding rain.

"Did the DI send you out here to bring us back in?" Chelton asked in a pathetically hopeful voice.

Anderson barely glanced at her. "It's pouring out here and you're going to catch your death of cold."

Sally watched the two figures dashing up the street intently. Her eyes flicked to Anderson and then back to the runners. "Lestrade sent us out for a reason, Anderson," she said as she stepped from under the umbrella's protection. "Freak! Dr. John! Over here!" She waved an arm at them as she yelled.

The runners turned towards her in sync and sprinted towards the umbrella and the trio under it. "What are they doing here?" Anderson hissed from behind here.

"Who are they?" Chelton asked him.

"The DI's pet psychopath and his husband," Anderson bit out. "Stay away from them if you know what's good for you, Penny." He turned his attention back to Sally. "You should have left them out here to drown."

"Why?" Chelton asked innocently but Anderson had no chance to answer as the two splashed up before Sally.

"Where?" The taller of the two shot out at Sally.

"There, the art gallery," Sally pointed to the building. "Follow me, I'll take you in." She dashed across the street knowing they'd follow.

The taller man stared between Anderson and Chelton for a moment while his companion ran after Sally. "He did tell you that he's married, didn't he?" The tall man asked Chelton. "He is."

Chelton startled and stared at him. "Why would that matter to me?" She squeaked out. "I'm not dating him."

One drenched black brow rose. "Really?" He asked in a disbelieving tone. "Well, I guess dating and sleeping with are two different things, aren't they?"

"Listen, Psychopath—" Anderson started in a furious voice.

"Sherlock!" His companion yelled from where he was standing in front of the art gallery. "Stop picking at Anderson and his new floor scrubber and get out of the rain!"

"Coming John!" The tall dark haired man shouted back. "You see, Anderson, you can't even hide your new relationship from John and he is deliberately obtuse when it comes to infidelity."

Chelton turned to stare at Anderson. "You're still married?" She squeaked out again. "You said you were getting divorced."

"Oh, he won't ever get divorced," Sherlock said. "His wife comes from money and Humphrey here is far too comfortable in his wife's huge house with its servants to ever let her leave him."

"His house doesn't have servants," Chelton protested. "It's not even a house. It's a flat in the middle of Old London."

Sherlock gave her a patronizing smile. "And you never wondered how a police forensics technician could afford a flat in that part of town? You really are young."

"SHERLOCK!" John yelled again. "I swear if you get sick I will have no sympathy and I'll refuse to bring you tea!"

The tall man spun around at that and dashed away to the short man standing in front of the building that house the art gallery. Chelton watched in something akin to jealousy as the shorter man greeted the taller with a dry towel and stretched up on his toes to dry the dark hair. She shook her head and started to trudge across the street to the building and some hot tea.

"Don't listen to him, Penny," Anderson said quietly as he kept pace with her. "He's a psychopath and doesn't know anything about us. I love you."

Chelton nodded but didn't say anything. Her eyes had never left the couple by the door. John had finished with Sherlock's hair and was helping the taller man out of his coat with an indulgent smile now. Sherlock looked down at him from over his shoulder with his own small smile. She could see the utter trust and complete love they had for each other shining like a beacon. She had wanted that kind of love her whole life.

She chanced a glance at Anderson and gave a small shiver. He wasn't looking at her. He was staring at the couple outlined in the light from the gallery with a look of pure hate on his features. She didn't like that look. Maybe it was time to find someone else to fill the time with. If she was lucky maybe someday she'd find a love like the couple's but it wouldn't be with Humphrey Anderson.