Yo! So, I already have most of this story planned out and I can't wait to write it all out! I hope you guys enjoy!

It had been a little over a week since Ana had called Dr. Watson. She had tried her absolute hardest to be patient and understanding about the situation. It didn't stop her from emailing him after day three and calling again on day six. It also didn't stop Moriarty from breathing down her neck, texting her every few hours looking for an update. As if calling or texting him wasn't the first thing she was going to do when she'd finally heard back.

To be completely honest, she was getting anxious. What if Dr. Watson had forgotten? Or changed his mind? The least he could do is email back and politely explain that he is too busy.

Completely decided on emailing the army doctor and giving him a piece of her mind, Ana grabbed her computer and typed in the web address for Dr. Watson's blog. Once the page loaded, she searched for the contact page link, when her eye snagged on something else. The address to their flat.

She remembered Moriarty telling her that they lived together in a shabby flat on Baker street. He had actually tried to get her to break into the flat originally, while they were out visiting the morgue. She had refused entirely, shocked that a man who prided himself on cleverness would even propose such an obvious way. If you're desperate enough, then even the most obvious thing probably seemed like a good option.

Ana had been the one to convince Moriarty to lay low after he'd sent out the swarm of photos and videos. It got people paranoid and jumpy-his original intent from what she could see. But, if he really wanted to mess with the consulting detective's head, she'd told him to stay completely off the radar. Nothing would drive Sherlock more insane than that.

That proposition, tagged along with the string of words 'I want to kill Sherlock Holmes' was what got the sociopath's attention in the first place. There were some other factors to be sure, but those were unimportant.

She was doing all the footwork for her accomplice, especially since he couldn't risk leaving his flat. Once one of the homeless network laid their eyes on him, Sherlock would track him down. He needed someone to distract him. That's where Ana came in.

Except she wasn't doing a very good job, at the moment. She couldn't even get Dr. Watson to call her back!

Screw it! She said to herself, grabbing her purse off of her counter and storming out of her flat. If Dr. Watson wouldn't contact her, she would just have to use a form of communication that was much more difficult to avoid. She was going to go knock on the door of 221B. She wasn't sure if this was the best course of action, but she couldn't stop herself or else she would begin to think this entire thing through and she needed to avoid rational thought right now.

She slipped on a pair of velvet black flats, grabbed her rain jacket, and ran out the door. She knew that she wasn't wearing the proper clothing-a pair of jeans and a plain black v-neck tshirt. It was incredibly casual and inappropriate for a meeting with the army doctor. Now wasn't the time to stop and change her clothes however. She hailed a cab and got in, telling the driver the address. The ride over was fairly quick, it only took about 10 minutes. She paid the man and thanked him for his services and climbed out of the backseat.

It was chilly and raining outside-nothing out of the usual for London. She pulled her hood up to shield herself from the water droplets that fell from a grey sky. Taking a deep breath, she approached 221B Baker St. and knocked on the door. She stood patiently at the door, watching people stare at her as they passed by on the street. They all looked as though they pitied her. Which made sense, since most of the people that went to this flat were there because they had some mystery to be solved. Or maybe it was because they all knew how Sherlock Holmes was and pitied the fact that she may have to put up with him. She'd be fine though, she had thick skin and Dr. Watson was going to be there to balance out Sherlock's unpleasantness.

The door swung open at such speed that it hit the inside wall and bounced off of it. "Do you not have ears?!" A deep, arrogant voice berated. Ana opened her mouth to respond, but the tall man had already turned his back and begun to walk back up the stairs. He left the door open behind him, which indicated to Ana that she was to follow him up. Once the door was shut soundly behind her, she heard his voice once again. "I yelled for you to come up twice. That's one more time that I should have to."

Ana pursed her lips. He and Moriarty were exactly alike.

They made it up to 221B, the door of which was already open-most likely left that way when Sherlock ran down the stairs to open it. She followed him into the flat, taking in the layout. A parlour that ran into a kitchen, a short hallway that led to a door that was halfway open-revealing a bedroom. If recalled correctly, and she always did, the stairs continued after stopping at the main area of the flat that most probably lead up to a second bedroom. Over all, the flat was a total mess. Random odds and ends laid all over the place and it looked like no one had properly cleaned the place in weeks.

"Sit down on the couch." He instructed, slammed the door shut behind him without looking at Ana at all.

"Hello! Yes, nice to meet you too! I'm Ana. I am well, thank you for asking!" She spat at him, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Petty civilities. I have no time for them." He grumbled, walking into the kitchen area.

Ana observed the man's attire, he was wearing black pajama pants, a matching black button up pajama top, and a purple robe. Ana narrowed her eyes at him, looking down at her watch. It was three in the afternoon.

"Sherlock Holmes, I presume?" She asked, not complying with his request and wandering around the apartment looking at all of this stuff. It may have been dirty, but his flat was certainly an interesting place.

"The one and only." He said from the other room. "MRS. HUDSON!"

His outcry caused Ana to jump, staring at him over her shoulder. When she looked at him she realized that he was openly staring at her with a look of concentration on his face. She smiled meekly at him, aware that he was deducing her.

"Take a seat. Mrs. Hudson will be down with some tea in a few minutes." He said in a voice that was a little less harsh than before. "Why are you doing that?"

"What?"

"They always sit down when I tell them to. They always stay put in that one part of the flat."

"Who?"

"The clients! Christ, for a student of medicine you are kind of thick."

Ana laughed at his comment and walked over to the couch and took a seat. "Your flat is interesting to look at." Sherlock's face twisted up into a confused expression. This was typically the part when people started to get flustered with him. "Besides, I'm not a client. If you did your deductions carefully enough you would know that."

"I know why you're here." He uttered in a pouty voice, turning around and walking further into the kitchen so that she could no longer see him. "You're that student that wants to interview John."

"Yes, I am."

"And if I'm correct, he told you that he'd get in touch with you with a date for your meeting."

"You are correct."

"John has not contacted you with a time yet."

"How would you possibly know that?"

"Why else would be here with a slightly desperate look in your eye?"

Ana smiled at his remark and shrugged, as if to say maybe you're right.

The door to 221B opened and a short elderly woman, wearing an apron stepped into the home carrying a tray with tea and cakes. The woman looked to be a very sweet kind of woman and she quickly set the tea down on the coffee table.

"How are you, dear?" She asked the girl on the couch, taken aback by her youth. Usually the people sitting on that couch were in their mid-twenties or older. This girl looked no older than nineteen.

"Well, ma'am. Thank you."

"Good bye, Mrs. Hudson!" Sherlock interrupted their little exchange, sitting on the couch next to Ana. "I'll call you later to clean up a little bit."

"Not your housekeeper, darling." She responded, rolling her eyes affectionately at the man. Ana didn't understand how she put up with it. If he had said that to her she would've slapped him. Once the old woman was gone, Ana poured herself a cuppa and took a sip.

"Now, may I please see Dr. Watson?"

"How old are you?" Sherlock asked out of no where.

"Seventeen."

"A seventeen year old med student, isn't that impressive." The lack of impression in his voice told otherwise.

"It is what it is." She replied with a polite smile. "Dr. Watson?"

"He's not here." Sherlock replied, continuing to stare over her as if the new piece of information that she'd supplied him with was a cause for him to deduce her again.

"When will he be in?"

"I don't know, ask his wife." He said with a smirk, picking up one of the cakes and nibbling at it. From what Moriarty had told her about the detective, he rarely ate much because he said it distracted a part of his mind from his work. The fact that he was eating in front of her now meant that he'd just concluded that she wasn't a threat. If she had been, he would've wanted to focus on everything she said and every move she made.

She smiled and took another sip of her tea. Perfect.

"Very funny, but seriously when will he be in?"

"That wasn't a joke." Sherlock said rolling his eyes. Ana's face scrunched up in confusion.

"Wait...Dr. Watson is married?"

"Well, someone hasn't done their research." He said, pouring himself a cuppa and adding cream and sugar to his. "Got married last year, there was an attempted murder at his wedding, John and I stopped it, it was a very dull affair."

Anger swelled up in Ana's chest, but she did not let it show on the outside.

"Well, I am sorry for wasting your time then Mr. Holmes." Ana said, setting her teacup down on the tray and standing up. "I'll leave you to your experimenting."

She had just opened the door to the flat when Sherlock's voice stopped her.

"How'd you know I was experimenting?"

She smiled at him, amused at how much he'd underestimated her. "Science of Deduction."

"You've read my website?"

"Tobacco ash can be facinating to some."

"I took that down years ago."

"Seventeen year old Med student."

"Isn't that impressive." This time his voice did hold a bit of awe.

"Good day, Mr. Holmes." She said as she stepped out of the flat. She walked down the stairs and out onto the street, her mind buzzing with what had just happened.