A/N: thank you for reading and reviewing! Your words and support make my day. I love you all!

Big hugs to EuphoriaLily for helping me out. You rule!

Fran

The wind felt cold against her warm cheeks, making her feel fresh and comfortable. She breathed in as they walked together into the dark night, crashing into a few teenagers who were eager to walk into the club. She smiled at their energy, wishing she could have it too.

They walked into the city, cars passing by, lights flickering, different smells crashing into his nostrils. He found everything invigorating, exciting, having been locked up for too long, engaged into the same routine day after day, seeing and talking to the same people. This brand new moment was perfect to him.

"You don't look a clubbing type of man." she told him, walking side by side, her hands deep in her pockets.

"What does a clubbing type of man looks like?" he asked, curious to know her answer. She was right, clubs were definitely not his favourite thing.

"I don't know, happy? Comfortable?" She told him. "You looked like you were in pain."

"I was." he confessed. "And you were right, I'm definitely not a clubbing man at all."

"Then what were you doing there?" She asked. "If you don't mind my asking."

He hesitated on his answer again. This new persona was not a drug addict, he reminded himself, this man had a completely different story, probably involving a different ending as well.

"I was celebrating my arrival to the big apple." he lied. "As you can tell I am not from around here."

"Where are you from, exactly."

"London. Born and raised." he spoke, shivering when a sudden cold wind hit him. "You?"

"New York city, born and raised." she spoke. "Are you staying here long?"

"Maybe. I haven't decided yet." That much was true. Part of him wanted to go back home, to his people, to his city. But the other, a big part of him, wanted to stay here and start a brand new life, away from the memories that brought him there. "What about you? You didn't look like a clubbing type of woman either."

"Oh right. I was celebrating getting a new job." she told him. "My friend, Emily, she thought it was a good idea to go out. I thought it was a good idea too. At least for a moment."

"What kind of job do you do?"

"I'm a sober companion, for drug addicts.

He flinched, his heart pounded hard inside his chest, suddenly having a vivid reminder of what he was, or used to be.

"Oh that sounds…interesting."

"It is. I get to know new people with all kinds of stories, and I get the chance to help them in their recovery. It's a long process, but invigorating nonetheless."

He wondered, for a second, if his sober companion was going to be like her. Will he, or she, understand him like she could? Or will her be hard and tough? His heart wished she could be the one.

"What about you? What do you do for a living? Or did, back in London."

"I was a consultant detective for Scotland Yard." he said simply, watching as she stared at him in awe.

"A detective? Really?"

"Not a gun and badge one. I merely assisted them in some cases, I didn't have permission to use a gun."

"That does sound fascinating." she told him, she couldn't help but being amazed by him.

"It is…was." he whispered. She couldn't help but notice a hint of melancholy in his voice as he spoke, probably his time in London hadn't been good and that brought bad memories.

"Well, if you decide to stay, I could show you the city." she suggested, quickly changing the subject at noticing how down he looked.

"Thank you, that would be lovely." He smiled. Soon he found himself smiling more, her presence soothing him somehow.

They walked along a few more blocks, in silence, each of them finding excuses to move a little close to one another. The city lights flickered, people walked by laughing and smiling. Sherlock was fascinated by all the energy surrounding him in the new city he would now call home. But he thought the woman next to him was what made everything special.

They lost track of time, first time it happened to him since arrived in New York City, his staying locked in that facility making his life so boring and excruciating long each passing day. Now, as they kept walking and walking, he barely noticed the hour passing before him.

Her phone rang, distantly (or so she thought), her brain immediately blocking the sound, ignoring it, knowing who it was. Sherlock sighed, an interruption like this meant their time was over, something he feared to happen but knew very well it would sooner or later. He had prayed for it to happen later rather than sooner.

She took the phone from her pocket, watching the screen flicker once, twice, the name on the screen big and visible; Emily. She then remembered she had left her friend alone, she was probably worried at her disappearance.

"It's my friend." she told Sherlock. He nodded slowly, understanding she couldn't ignore it. "She must be worried."

"Go ahead. Answer her."

She took the call, her phone feeling cold against her ear, and Emily's voice poured from it quickly, her distressed voice disturbing her, but not surprising her at all.

"Where are you? I've been looking for you everywhere!" her friend questioned her. She didn't want to give much away, she didn't want her friend to question her about how and why she went out with a complete stranger. She didn't want to tell, because she couldn't even explain it herself.

"Sorry, I'm out." Joan told her, pressing her phone against her ear, the noise surrounding her making the conversation hard to perform. "I couldn't find you so I went out of the club."

"Alone?" Emily asked. Joan couldn't help the slight warmth creeping on her cheeks, she stared at the man before her, thinking about her answer carefully.

"No, I met…a friend."

A friend. Sherlock thought. He hardly thought of her as a friend, mainly because he didn't have any, but also because deep inside he thought about her otherwise. A lifesaver, yes, something like that. She had, after all, saved him from dying of boredom inside that club. If it wasn't for her presence, he could be lost, literally, in the enormous city.

So yes, she was definitely not a friend.

"And you left with him?" Emily asked again.

"Yes, we're walking around." Joan told her, he noticed him smiling softly.

"Okay then, while you and your friend walk around, I'm going home." Emily spoke. "I'll meet you there, bye."

"Sure, bye."

She hung up, playing with her phone in her hand nervously. She felt his eyes on her, just like he had done in the club, his eyes penetrating her, making her insides twist. He was so incredibly attractive and mysterious, he captivated her, she was immediately pulled into knowing more about him.

But then reality hit her. He was here for a visit, he wasn't meant to stay, which only meant they wouldn't see each other anymore. She couldn't grow attached to someone who would part in any moment.
"Well…I think I should go." she whispered. He nodded, trying as hard as he could to hide his sadness. "It's late and I'm meeting my new client tomorrow…"

"Yes, of course." he told her.

"It was nice meeting you, Steve." she spoke, once again raising her hand to shake his. He watched her, hesitating again, but finally he took her hand again. She felt a cold shiver running up and down her back.

"Nice meeting you too, Joan." he murmured.

They stood there, holding each other's hand tightly, lost in each other's eyes. Sherlock felt as if his body at mind of his own as he moved closer to her, creating a small gap between them. Joan remained on her spot, unable to move. His face, ever so slightly, moved slowly towards her. He didn't know what took over his mind, his body, his soul, but he couldn't and didn't want to stop it.

His lips touched hers in a blink on an eye, desperate to feel her and taste her. She felt his lips soft against her own, warm and inviting, they danced together as if they belonged there, as if they simply fit in. Joan was surprised by her own action but none of it felt wrong, she felt a warm feeling deep inside of her she couldn't quite recognize and it made her feel alive.

He made her feel alive. This stranger, this man she barely even knew made her feel whole and she was scared of falling.

He pulled away slowly, his hands firmly on her hips and his lips warm.

"I'm sorry." she whispered. "I don't want you to think I do this all the time, kiss strangers in the middle of the street."

"I don't." he answered. "Just like I don't kiss strangers either."

She sighed heavily, taking a few steps away from him, reminding herself she wasn't supposed to be doing this, no matter how right she felt it was.

"I have to go." she told him. He nodded. "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry."

She turned away, taking quick strides towards anywhere her feet wanted to lead her, her heart pounding hard in her chest, her head spinning and wondering. He stood behind her, frozen as she disappeared through the crowd, too dismayed to make his body function. The stranger that had turned his whole life around was no longer visible, his heart crushed into a million pieces.

Tbc.