A/N – Hi everyone, thanks for taking the time to read my Johnlock fanfiction. This is the first time I've written for this pairing and any mistakes are my own. Please leave a comments as to whether you have enjoyed it, or if you have any ideas for improvements.

Sherlock

A cold wind whipped at the scarf tied around my neck as if trying to claim it for its own. Tucking it into my coat in order to secure it I strode through the door and out onto the street. This city was my home. I hadn't chosen to live here, it felt at times, more like it had chosen me. It had sucked me in with claims of being brilliant and forward thinking, lulling me into a false sense of security before trapping me here and revealing the boring average side of itself. I could move away, there was nothing stopping me from moving somewhere else, except a sense of duty to the boring, simple minded people I had promised myself I would protect. I may appear cold and aloof on the outside, many people choosing to avoid me than spend a moment more than necessary in my presence, but the few who I let in, who I let see the real me understand the ferocity of my loyalty and the lengths at which I would go to in order to protect those deemed valuable to me.

Not many people see that side to me, and those that do often remark how weird it is that I chose to hide that side from others. Not many understand why I have chosen to shut off from the world almost completely. There are only 2 people alive today who know why I have, to all appearances, turned my emotions off, and 1 of them seems determined to attempt to change that. Making a mental note to try and stop that happening I tried to clear my head from all the emotions clouding it. It had been happening a lot recently, boring and useless emotions infecting my thoughts. I first noticed it a few months ago but thought it was due to my transport body needing to release tension so I brushed it off. I had to focus. This case is important, a life or death situation with a child's life on the line and the last thing I need is to not be thinking clearly.

A hand on my back sent shivers down my spine. It was John, his eyes scanning me, checking for any sign that there was something wrong. Having found nothing out of the ordinary he went back to focusing on the crime scene and I was once again left alone with my thoughts. This case had to be solved soon or the child would die and paperwork would have to be filled out. So much boring paperwork came with these cases, and John was still annoyed at me over the hand in the saucepan debacle so he would be unlikely to fill the forms in for me. Turning back to the crime scene I did my best to focus before everything was lost.