Hello again. Here is the rewritten chapter two (really the first chapter, the last was a prologue). Again to those new to this story, you can continue on with your reading, ignoring this message if you wish! To my readers who are rereading this this chapter has been greatly changed. I did not intend that to happen but it did. I apologize and sincerely hope it works better than the original draft. I personally like this rewrite better. So let me know what you think...and please tell me if anyone is OOC or if anything is wrong. I love feedback but please don't be mean! If you must criticize do so in a helpful, not hurtful, way!

See what Amber looks like through the link on my profile!

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize, especially Sherlock himself (if I did he would be a nothing but a sheet more often). BBC owns the amazing show and I thank them for it! I do however own Amber and the plot for this story.

Breaking the Barrier

[001]

Amber sat on the couch with her feet tucked underneath her, her cup of tea held lightly warming her hands. John sat in a chair across from her and Mrs. Hudson had left five minutes ago. "Mrs. Hudson mentioned that you wanted to speak with Sherlock," John prompted after having already talked with her for a while. Talking had calmed her down to the point where her eyes weren't as wide with fear nor was she as shaky. It seemed to him that her reaction to whatever had happened was purely a physical reaction, something she had no control over. He'd seen this happen to Sherlock only once so he knew it was better to not point anything out or ask the wrong questions.

She rolled her eyes. "I had said something to effect of wishing to speak with him but that was a week ago. The matter has cleared itself up, for the most part."

John noted the lie but once again didn't say anything about it. It was better for her to believe what she wanted to believe if it kept her happy and calm for the time being. "That's good." He nodded. "Are you enjoying living on Baker Street? How is the flat?"

"The flat is wonderful and a hell of a lot less work compared to my old place. Three bedrooms was more room than I really needed but when I first moved in I had flatmates." She shrugged. "They all moved on and I decided it was time I did too. I was tired of Sussex anyways and I've always loved London. Baker Street is within distance of everything I could need." Her smile was soft, a little hesitant but at least it wasn't forced.

The front door of the building was slammed open only to be slammed shut just as fast. Amber jumped in her spot sloshing tea over the rim of her cup onto her leg and a little on the couch. "I am so sorry," she said rushing towards the kitchen with her cup as she went in search of paper towels and fresh tea. John tried to tell her it was no big deal and that he could clean up the mess of the couch. She refused on the grounds of already being up to wipe the tea on her pant leg.

"John!" The man in question rolled his eyes heavily hearing his friend's voice as well as the long stride of Sherlock taking the stairs two at a time. "Is there anything on the website? I need a new case." The tall man announced as he entered the flat pulling off his scarf and throwing his coat onto the now empty couch.

"We just finished a case Sherlock. Take a break."

"That was yesterday. I need at case now." Sherlock said rushing to John's laptop on the desk.

"Sherlock, we have a guest," John said pointing towards the kitchen where Amber now stood awkwardly looking in to the living room, paper towels in one hand, tea in the other.

With a critical eye Sherlock looked the woman over. She was five six and a half, barefoot he noted. She was slender with wide set hips. Her eyes were vibrant green, her hair a mess of copper waves cut to the top of her shoulders. Her skin was pale, naturally he assumed, but currently chalk white as if she had been scared recently. The cup in her hand shook ever so slightly, barely noticeable to anyone but himself. Her eyes also hid something. He was almost certain it was fear but he couldn't be positive.

"You're Amberlyn Devons, the new tenant of 221C," he said watching her eyes widen with surprise before catching herself.

"I prefer Amber," she stood there looking around before landing back on Sherlock. He was what she had expected. She had seen photographs after all, but none of them really did him justice. He was tall, taller than she was. His hair was dark, curly and a tad bit messy, again something she expected, but his eyes were a shockingly icy blue. Those eyes seemed to bore into her, as if reading her soul, sending a shock straight through her body. She hadn't expected such a gut-wrenching reaction to his gaze. She tried to pay it no mind.

"I came to that conclusion because there are no female shoes in this room. Unless you you have a habit of walking the London streets barefoot, you live downstairs. Simple really," he went back to looking at the computer before realizing the name he had just said. He looked back at her sharply. "You have a case," it was more of a statement rather than a question.

She shook her head as she walked back to the couch, mopping up the mess she had made before Sherlock had abruptly entered the flat. "What?"

"Remember Mrs. Hudson told us you wanted to speak with Sherlock," John said from his spot in his chair.

"Oh yes, sorry I forgot." She smiled at John and looked back to Sherlock. "Actually Mr. Holmes,"

"Sherlock, please."

"Okay, Sherlock," her stomach fluttered on it's own accord. Once again she ignored the feeling. "No I don't have a case. The matter I wanted to speak with you about has cleared up." She took her seat, careful to avoid sitting on the damp spot, and took a sip of her tea.

"Are you sure about that?" She flinched slightly, giving him the only answer he needed.

"Yes, I'm quite sure. Why?" Her voice was calm and level, a betrayal to what her eyes were screaming.

"Sherlock, please not today," John pleaded with his friend.

Sherlock ignored him. "You're as pale as ice and your hand hasn't stopped shaking since I first saw you. You've had a recent scare but you aren't willing to talk about it."

Amber rose a brow at him. "I wouldn't say it was a scare, more of a shock I wasn't expecting and it is none of your business. No offense but what happens to me does not concern you."

"My flat is located in the same building as yours. If you are bringing trouble along with you I assure you it is my business, John's as well."

"Sherlock!" John was surprised by the statement and a bit concerned about what Sherlock might have been referring to. There was no reason for either of them to believe that Amber was anything but harmless. She didn't look like a criminal or an overly troubled person but Sherlock might have seen something he hadn't.

Amber laughed before changing subjects, "I've read your website and heard all the stories, so tell me Sherlock, what can you read from me."

"Please don't taunt him Amber. He's being an irritating prick on purpose to get a rise out of you," John said turning a scolding gaze on his friend, who of course paid the look no mind. "Behave Sherlock."

Sherlock gave a smirk, his hands flush against one another in front of his mouth. "She asked John and I must oblige."

"It's alright John. I did ask so I don't mind." Amber said comforting the blond man and, in a way, herself knowing that he was going to read some things about her that she might not want aired at this very moment. Then again he could get everything wrong, she thought, but that isn't likely.

"You're Scottish, but have been living in England for most of your life. You're in your mid to late twenties, leaning more towards twenty seven or twenty eight. You seem to be intelligent and very observant. There is a chemical stain on the bottom edge of your shirt, most likely a combination of hydroquinone and ammonium thiosulfate. Both are common chemicals for developing black and white film so you are a photographer dealing with both film and digital. Though photography is a waste of your intelligence if you ask me." She snorted lightly but he continued on.

"You wear glasses but are ashamed of it. You used to be a smoker but have quit in the last six months. Judging by the wedding band on the chain around your neck and the lack of a tan line on your finger, I'd say you have been divorced for several years now but still care dearly for your ex or you wouldn't still have the ring. You have been pregnant once in your life going by the width of your hips but either miscarried or had a still birth. You've lost your mother and father, which is the reason you live in England instead of Scotland. You have a gray cat, judging by the fur on your pants." She looked down at her calves to notice that she did have traces of cat fur on her leggings. She brushed it off waiting from him to continue.

"You have bruises under your eyes so you haven't slept much in, oh say, the last three days. You are quite scared, very much so, and worry for your safety which is why when you first moved into 221C you asked Mrs. Hudson to speak with me. Something happened this morning that has you more scared than you have been in a while but you won't say anything. So tell me, am I wrong?" He finished noticing that as he had mentioned a husband and child she nearly succumbed to tears, but she hadn't cried nor even looked away from him. She is strong, he surprised himself by thinking. He never noticed personality traits like that, let alone pointed them out in his mind.

"See Sherlock, this is why I said don't." John muttered, angry with his friend for having upset the woman on the couch.

Amber shook her head. "No, it's alright. I did ask." She subtly wiped at the edges of her eyes, a move that was noticed by both men but wasn't commented on.

"You don't seem shocked. Everyone acts shocked the first time I tell them their life story, or part of it that is. Why not you?" Sherlock asked, completely confused by her reaction to his analysis. He couldn't have possibly been wrong. He was never wrong, well almost never.

"I told you, I've heard the stories. You can't surprise me." She stated simply with a smile that said she knew something he didn't. I was not wrong, he told himself once again. He could not be wrong and if he was he would be utterly surprised.

He nodded in acceptance of her excuse. "Did I get anything wrong? I always get one thing wrong."

Amber had a lazy smile on her face as she began to open her mouth to speak but just as she did a phone began to ring. They all looked at one another for a split second. She pulled her mobile out of her shirt much to the shock of John and the pleasant surprise of Sherlock. The fact that a woman could hide small objects in a bra without them being detected was an amazing concept and one at the moment he was having fun pondering.

"Excuse me I need to take this call," Amber said getting up and leaving the flat with an apologetic smile. She answered the call by simply stating her last name. Sherlock and John shared a confused look for a moment.

"Why do you feel the need to show off?" John spoke first, a hint of disappointment and anger coating his voice.

"It's what I do. If I didn't show off we wouldn't have cases to work. Speaking of which since Ms. Devons hasn't offered up anything interesting, is there anything on the website yet?" Sherlock's fingers began to tap lightly on the desk, a hint that he was beginning to become bored.

John gave an annoyed laugh. "You are sitting right in front of the computer. Why don't you look."

Amber entered back into the flat just as Sherlock began to do as John suggested. He paid her no mind but John did. She looked annoyed yet pleased at the same time. "I'm sorry but I have to go. I just got called into work on my day off no less. Would you mind terribly if I come back later this evening. I'll bring food. Chinese takeaway okay?"

"Fine," Sherlock said shooing her off quite rudely as he stared at the screen in front of him. He looked just as annoyed as Amber sounded and she doubted he had even heard her speak.

John rolled his eyes again and ushered her outside the door where they could talk a little more freely without having to hear Sherlock tell them to shut up as he read any and all messages left on the blog. "Sorry about him. When he gets bored he becomes a bit of a prick."

"I had a younger cousin like that. Took a good kick from his mum but he finally stopped."

"Trust me, hitting Sherlock will not help in anyway." When she laughed he smiled. "So takeaway sounds fine, about eight would be good for us. We'll order and then talk about whatever you need help with." When she scoffed he sighed. "You would not be offering to come back here after work if Sherlock wasn't right Amber. If you had merely gotten a shock from whatever was in that package you wouldn't still be chalk white. You don't have to prompt us with a case but it might be a good idea to just talk it out. We can help."

She shook her head. "He wants a case, not a woman who needs someone to talk to."

"Well if he won't listen I will," his smile was soft.

Oh dear lord, time to cut this off before he gets any ideas, she thought to herself. "John, you're sweet and cute but,"

It was John's turn to look wide eyed. "You thought—no I didn't mean it like—"

She chuckled with embarrassed relief. "I didn't mean to fluster you. I just, I don't have much experience with men."

"But you were married," he eyed her with confusion.

Her laugh died and her eyes dimmed slightly. "Yes, but that was a while ago, a life time ago really."

"You don't have to explain, just go to work. Sherlock and I will see you tonight."

"Thanks John. I'll see you later. Get my number from Mrs. Hudson. If you two need to cancel for tonight let me know. Have a good day," she waved as she dashed down the stairs to her own flat where she proceeded to get ready for work.

John walked back into his own flat, a little more confused about the redhead that lived in the basement but none the less impressed with her. She seemed to throw the consulting detective for a loop, considering John had noticed an uncertain look on the man's face when rattling off things about Amber. He wouldn't deny she was pretty, because she was, but he had seen the look on her face upon laying eyes on Sherlock. She had all but stopped breathing. There had also been a look in Sherlock's eyes, something curious but something a little more primal. John doubted that even Sherlock himself had realized how he had looked, nor registered it for the matter. His friend had also taken an interest in the woman instead of just showing her the door when she didn't offer a case. That said a lot for a man who was hunting for a new case to keep his mind occupied.

It took a second but a reason for Sherlock's more mellow behavior dawned on John just as he was about to head back into the flat. "Sherlock, where are they," he demanded storming back in.

"Where are what?" Sherlock inquired turning to look at the shorter man then around the room. "Where did she go?"

"Who?" John asked beginning to tear apart the flat, looking any place a pack of cigarettes could be hidden without him noticing in the last half an hour. That didn't leave many places but he was dealing with Sherlock after all.

"Ms. Devons," when John's brows furrowed Sherlock sighed. "Amber. Where did Amber go? She was just here."

"She had to go to work. Now where are they?" He tossed the Union Jack pillow off the couch stuffing his hands down the back and sides of the cushions.

Sherlock stood now, "Where are what John? What are you looking for?"

"I know where you went this morning. You reek of smoke."

"I happened to pass by a group of smoking University students." Sherlock lied through his teeth. While it might have sounded like the truth, John knew the man better than that.

"Sherlock," John leveled his gaze on the man. "Where the bloody hell are they?"

"Front pocket of my coat," he admitted watching his blond friend search the coat finding the packet missing two cigarettes. "You do realize that I smoked when I was supposedly dead, right?"

"I am aware but you have been doing so good these past two months. You don't need these." John tucked them into his own pocket to dispose of later on when Sherlock wasn't around.

They both heard the click of a door opening and closing downstairs. "Mrs. Hudson! If I'm not back by four please check on Nix! I'm off to work!"

"Alright. Have a good day!" John and Sherlock heard Mrs. Hudson answer Amber before she left for the day.

"Did she happen to tell you what she does for a living?" Sherlock seemed quite curious. What could a woman who was clearly into photography do that called for her to leave in such a rush? He asked himself and every answer he came up with just didn't match up with what he had seen.

John shook his head. "Didn't even mention it. You said something about her being a photographer. Maybe she was late to a wedding or party where she was hired to work."

"No she would have needed more then fifteen minutes to get ready for a job like that," he said offhandedly. "Mrs. Hudson!" Sherlock called stalking out of the flat.

It only took John a matter of moments to figure out what was going on. "Sherlock, no. We are not breaking into her flat." He ran to follow Sherlock down the stairs to catch him before he could do anything rash.

"I'm not breaking in. I'm going to kindly ask Mrs. Hudson for the key."

"You can't just invade Amber's flat. It's against the law." John was trying to reason with Sherlock now though there was nothing that could deter the man. "Mrs. Hudson won't give you the key." Sherlock continued on without answering. "You are not going to steal the key." Still not response. John cut in front of Sherlock before he could knock on their landlady's door. "No. I can't let you invade her privacy like this."

"You've just met her, why do you care?"

John just shook his head in disbelief. "She's a human being with rights and we are not going to trample over them."

"You like her," Sherlock sneered. He had never been fond of relationships and had always disliked when John began dating someone. It always led to awkward moments.

"And so do you. You wouldn't be trying to get a key to get into her flat if you didn't." John shot back watching a flash of confusion darted across Sherlock's face.

"She's hiding something." He did not deny nor acknowledge what John has said and tried to polity shove the shorter man out of the way.

The argument continued on for another ten minutes as they stood outside of Mrs. Hudson's door until finally the door opened revealing the older woman. She didn't appear happy. "Would you two kindly take the argument upstairs," she ordered. "I will not give you Amber's spare key and if you break in I will allow that girl to do whatever it is she wishes to do to you and your flat." With that the door was shut in their stunned faces before a round of laughter overtook them.

"That was odd," Sherlock announced as they backed out of the hallway. Despite the threat made by Mrs. Hudson he still rattled the door handle of 221C but managed to resist the urge to actually pick the lock. While he might have been curious about Amber Devons he didn't want to upset Mrs. Hudson. He was fond of her.

"She must really like Amber. I'm not surprised really. After living with us for the last few years I'm sure she's happy to have another woman around." John rambled on mostly to himself since Sherlock wasn't paying much attention to anything being said as they went back up to their flat.

A half hour, and several dozen annoying inquires about cases, later, Sherlock's phone rang. The conversation lasted a total of fifteen seconds ending with Sherlock grinning and saying, "Text me the address. We'll be there." He put on his scarf followed by his coat.

"Where are we going?" John tailed behind.

"Lestrade is out of his depth." They were already halfway down the stairs.

"As always?" The door slammed behind them.

"As always," Sherlock smiled as he hailed a cab once out on the street.

"What is it this time?" A cab pulled up the curb as John spoke.

"A murder. What else would it be?" They both got into the cab where Sherlock gave an address which he read from his phone while John just kind of sat there thinking to himself. At least he isn't bored. The cab took off as they fell into silence.

Questions? Comments? Concerns? Review!