"What's wrong?" Sherlock says quietly as if he hadn't already deduced what had happened to her in the past 24 hours. Emma sat down quietly, keeping her eyes trained on her shoes suddenly finding a scuff at the side of her boot more interesting then maintaining eye contact with him. "Emma?" Sherlock said sounding impatient but she knew he really just wanted to know why she had turned up here in London as he knew the danger of her being here exposed and vulnerable.

Sitting down in the one of the armchairs beside the fire, Emma told Sherlock everything about the murders that she and her partner were working on. She told him all about the struggles of trying to deceive all her colleagues as the evidence slowly began to incriminate her, the method of which the victims were killed and trying to stay one step ahead of whoever was trying to frame her. Sherlock's blank expression did not change once even when Emma described the most personal and terrifying detail about how the victims were killed. Even the thought of the victims, New York and her past made her stomach churn and the ability to keep her eyes open even harder. Emma had been working on these murder cases for weeks and couldn't even remember when she last had any rest.

After Emma had finished talking, the room was filled with silence that was suffocating and after what felt like years, Sherlock stood up and picked up his violin playing a soft, calming piece of music that seemed strangely familiar. Before she could try and figure out why it was so familiar, Emma felt her eyes begin to droop and quickly fell into a deep slumber feeling safe for the first time in weeks.

Waking up the room was dark and cold with Sherlock no were in sight, Emma found this thought strangely comforting as she really had no idea what she was going to say to him next. Sherlock was always so hard to read, meeting him again in Serbia was a strange and exhilarating experience. He was brilliant, fearless and a dynamic force. But only when he wasn't being a huge pain in the ass always showing off. Coming to London for help seemed like her only option and Emma didn't hesitant to associate being safe with Sherlock, but coming here after so many months apart and practically invading his life was going to lead to a lot of questions that really she knew Sherlock wasn't going to want to answer.

Suddenly the door flew open and in stepped the man himself. Pulling off his long coat and his blue scarf his usually impeccable suit seemed slightly crumpled, which was strange for him since he always seemed so perfect to her. "Long night?" Emma called out, her tone of voice sounding louder in the quiet room. Sherlock's whole body stilled like he had forgotten she was there, Emma was suddenly expecting him to bring up New York but she was pleasantly surprised when he spent the next twenty minutes describing his nightly activities in great detail which involved a new experiment he was conducting using a human tongue from Bart's hospital.

"Are you still tired, Emma?" Her natural brown waves were a bit dishevelled from sleeping in the armchair and her arms were wrapped loosely around her body trying to stay warm. Looking at her Sherlock realised she had never looked more beautiful, Emma waking up in the morning with her hair tousled and stretching out like a lazy cat was always his favourite moment of the day. Remembering all these moments caused Sherlock to faintly smile at her, "What?" Emma asked sounding quite defensive and annoyed. Sherlock didn't answer, he just took Emma by the hand leading her to his bedroom and continued telling her all about what happened when you performed a fascinating experiment on the human tongue and about how he couldn't understand how stupid everyone else was around him.