A/N: BIG shout out to kolla00 for being the first to put this story on their alert list and 13 for being the first to favorite it. Thank you! This chapter goes out to you guys ;) .

Just BTW, last chapter I failed to mention Annabel giving Sherlock her résumé so I fixed it…you can either go choose to reread that little part that I fixed or ignore it completely. Your choice :)

Grandma Lynn was an old lady who lived in a flat in the slums that Annabel and Shirley called "home". She never married, nor did she have any children, yet she was everybody's grandmother. She gave food to those who didn't have any, and let Annabel and Shirley use her bathroom to bathe. The two were her favorite out of all the people she knew. But Grandma Lynn was a retired woman, living in a three room flat, and so no matter how much she loved the two girls, they could not live with her. Annabel and Shirley could not bring it on themselves to cause even more trouble for a poor old woman.

"Oh dearies it has been ages!" Grandma Lynn exclaimed as she pushed the two girls into her flat. "It's only been two days Grandma. Plus Annabel came her yesterday to shower before her…well interview," Shirley said, looking down uncomfortably at the mention of yesterday's disaster of an interview.

"Oh yes that's right! Annabel how was the interview?" Grandma Lynn said putting a rusty old kettle on the small stove she had in her kitchen/living room. Shirley quickly rushed into the bathroom to take a shower as well as to avoid the dark stare Annabel sent her way.

Annabel sighed, "I don't think I got the job… I don't even think I'm special enough to work for a guy like Sherlock Holmes." She looked around the small flat to get her mind off of the embarrassing scene she had at Mr. Holmes' home.

Grandma Lynn's flat was falling apart. The shamrock green wallpaper had begun to shed its skin, revealing an ugly gray wall behind it. There were water stains on the ceilings and the furniture creaked at the slightest touch. Yet when Annabel looked over at Grandma Lynn, she looked as though she felt like she lived in a mansion. A smile was always brightening her face and her light blue eyes sparkled every time she spoke. But the woman was so thin and frail, it made Annabel's stomach turn.

"Now don't you speak like that!" Grandma Lynn said strictly, pointing a rusty metal spoon in Annabel's direction, "You're just as good as everybody else in this damned place! No, you are even better!"

Grandma Lynn turned her back to Annabel and a few moments later turned around with two cups of tea.

Grandma Lynn's hands shook as she set the cups down on the table. Annabel picked one of them up and took a sip.

"My dear beautiful Annabel," Grandma Lynn said softy, putting down her cup, "I hope with all my heart that you will get this job. I want you to have a good life. Live in a grand place somewhere…warm. London is far too cold and rainy for a sunny girl like you."

Annabel smiled shyly, feeling her cheeks begin to burn, "Thank you Grandma Lynn."

"I'll pray for you." Grandma Lynn nodded to herself, as if to put a little note on her invisible to-do list.

After a few minutes of sipping tea, Shirley finally came back into the room to join the two ladies. Shirley then switched places with Annabel in order for her to be able to go take a shower as well. Annabel took a speedy shower, not wanting to waste Grandma Lynn's precious water supply. But right when she got out of the shower, she heard her phone's notification sound go off.

Bing!

Annabel pulled her phone out of her jeans' pocket which was laying crumpled on the ground and opened it.

It was a text message.

Northumberland Street, coffee shop.

Meet me there in 30 minutes.

SH

Annabel quickly pulled her clothes on and ran into the living room, holding the mobile phone in her hand. "Shirley, Shirley!" Annabel exclaimed, surprising Shirley who almost dropped her tea.

"W-What Annabel, what is it?" Annabel handed her shaken friend the mobile. After a few seconds of looking at it, Shirley looked up at Grandma Lynn.

"Well what does it say?"

"Grandma Lynn…I think…Anna got the job." Grandma Lynn's eyes got wide, and a smile larger than before covered her face. "Annabel congratulations!" Grandma Lynn sprung up, giving Annabel a tight hug. Shirley joined in too.

They hugged like this for about two minutes before a sudden realization hit Annabel. She quickly pulled away from her two teary-eyed friends.

"I have to be there in twenty minutes," She said rather alarmingly.

"Oh shit that's right!" Shirley said, before getting scowled by Grandma Lynn for cursing. Annabel shoved her phone in her pocket and rushed for the front door.

"Shirley, I'll meet you by the river later!" Annabel shouted behind her, getting an agreeing response from Shirley.

Annabel made it the café just in the nick of time. She rushed into the shop and looked around. There, in the corner sat Sherlock Holmes. Or who she thought to be Sherlock Holmes. She wasn't completely sure since she only saw the back of his head. But with the massive curls the man had, Annabel was ready to bet her life on the man being Mr. Holmes. She began walking towards him, but before she could even face him he spoke up.

"Ms. Greer, please do sit down."

Annabel did as she was told and sat down in front of Mr. Holmes.

"How did you-"

"Your footsteps. Every person has very distinct footsteps almost like a fingerprint. I could tell it was you from the moment you walked in. Now, I have contacted you today because we have some business to discuss."

Annabel stayed silent.

"I have decided that I would like to see how you "perform" your talents in certain situations," Sherlock said, sipping the drink he had in front of him.

"You mean like a test?" Annabel asked.

"Yes exactly. A test. It will show me how well you would react if this were your job and if your life depended on it. Now, John learned this skill overtime but since I am paying you this should be…elementary to you. Correct?"

"Y-Yes of course," Annabel said, though she felt as though she was lying.

Annabel had never used her talents as a job. It was something she used to get by, to be able to survive. The thought of her being tested on a survival instinct did not feel right.

"You seem concerned," Sherlock noted, almost as though he didn't really care, "I hope you are not lying to me when you tell me you are able to do this. I do not want amateurs helping me. Would cause too much trouble."

Annabel had to keep in mind that the man she was talking to could identify a software designer by his tie. She had to choose her next words very carefully. She looked the consulting detective in the eye, mustered up all her courage and said with the most neutral of tones,

"I am perfectly fine with showing you what I am capable of doing Mr. Holmes. The real question is will you be able to keep up?"

Sherlock simply chuckled, but it faded away just as soon as it appeared. He took another sip from his cup before standing up and exiting the booth in which the two had been previously seated in.

"Very well then. I will see you in front of 221b Baker Street at eight o'clock tonight," Sherlock said, glancing at his watch.

"If you are late, I will take that as a resignation. Good day."
And just like that, he walked out of the coffee shop with not a word more.

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