OOOKKKIEE DOOOOKKKIE I decided to put out two chapters because felt the last chapter was getting to be a bit long and wanted to break it up. This won't happen all the time since I would at least like to make sure people area actually following the story before putting out a lot of stories at once. Not sure how I feel about this chapter though. I kinda feel like it could be better. But I definitely wanted Sherlock and OC to have more interaction.

NOTE: Roach is perceived as just an 'it' (no gender or form) and is the one with erratic emotions.

Know Me

Jim Moriarty

Many times Adele glanced back to see who was following her, many times Jim thought she had seen him. But she looked through him rather than directly at him. Her eyes like a deer in front of a speeding car. When she finally did get to her flat he watched her silhouette roam through her house, flipping on every single light. In the kitchen she rummaged through the pantry, her body blocked by the wobbly door. She was bent over, muttering something under her breath and as quickly as possible her hand swiped over her mouth before gulping down a mouthful of water from a jug. He waited for her to leave, grabbing a cake and wine as she hurried upstairs. Once the coast was clear, Jim slipped inside.

Adele Banks

Mrs. Hudson really could 'put on a great show'. Her roast was delicious. I didn't eat meat often, unless it was canned because of my shitty cooking skills. But I absolutely enjoyed it whenever I could. I had knotted my hair up on my head, while loosely wrapping a scarf around my neck to cover the puffy skin underneath. Other than that a plain wool sweater and jeans looked simple enough while not appearing sloppy.

I skipped taking the Prolixin altogether, not wanting to fall asleep at a party. I wasn't hallucinating or anything so I figured I'd be okay without it for a little while.

"So Adele, tell us about your family." Mrs. Hudson asked, forking more food onto my plate despite me not finishing the previous food.

"Well, dad is an accountant and my mom's a lawyer. Jeff –my brother he's a small time politician, nothing big yet. And Cassie…." Cassie is perfect. Beautiful, married with kids, and becoming a super model. I almost felt Sherlock's eyes on me.

"Mrs. Hudson, the roast is achingly dry. You put too much salt." The hawk eyed man said, causing the older woman to forget me, having a fit. I looked at Sherlock, regarding him with thanks that he didn't seem to notice in the slightest.

I was having so much fun, we laughed –except Sherlock. We chatted –except Sherlock and overall had a great time –except Sherlock who moped around with his violin in hand.

"Well I best get to bed, really am too old to be up this late." Mrs. Hudson yawned followed by John. And then it was just Sherlock and I.

"Thanks…for earlier. I really appreciated it."

"Don't mention it." He muttered as if people rarely complimented him. I inched closer leaning over the chair to see what he was looking at. They were photographs of graffiti splotched onto a portrait, some of the excess neon yellow running down in crooked lines.

"Do you mind?" Sherlock clipped, turning his head only to be shocked at how close the girl was. She was close enough for him to catch a small glimpse of the red mark on the nape of her neck, which would explain why she'd worn the scarf. Adele didn't look like the easy type. To allow a total stranger to give her a hickey. Then again what did he care?

"No. Not really. So what do you do for a living anyway? Besides shooting your walls." I recalled how occasionally at odd hours of the night he would fire off rounds into the dark patterned wall. Leaving me laying paranoid in bed.

"I am a consulting detective." Sherlock responded grumpily. Not offering much after that.

"So you solve mysteries? Like Scooby Doo?" The detective pursed his lips. She was being mighty talkative today. Perhaps it was who she met earlier on that made her feel so confident.

"No, I solve crimes."

"What kind of crimes?"

"Murder mostly."

Slowly I slunk onto the chair with him, squashing him to the side as he gave me a have-you-not-heard-of-this-spectacular-thing-called-personal-space? Fortunately, I haven't. What was that anyway?

"Neat. I read murder books."

"Not the same thing." Sherlock corrected, how was he going to be able to focus with this girl breathing down his neck? She was worse than Mrs. Hudson.

"I didn't say it was. I was implying that it's something we have in common." Sherlock opened his mouth, ready to retort that simply because she read murder books didn't mean they have something in common, but closed it firmly shut. Whatever he said now would just go right over her head. Adele's eyes were kind of faraway like she was daydreaming. Her head slowly turned, prodding the papers with her fingers.

"You should take notes from all of your cases. In extent detail so that you have something to relate to later on if you need it."

"John does that. He calls it a blog. Rubbish really. Why hold onto pointless information?" Adele shrugged, smelling of vanilla.

"It's pointless now, but you never know. It could become important." Sherlock blinked, contemplating. Generally solved cases never became important afterwards. Instead he turned away, to concentrate at the matter at hand.

"Who are you anyway? Beside's Sherlock the detective?" With a heavy sigh he once again focused on me.

"Why do you insist on filling your head with pointless information?" I smiled at him, because it was nice to know what it was like for people 'not' like me.

"That's the thing. Not everyone sees it as pointless." I motioned between the both of us. "Between you and I, the concept of importance can vast little to greatly. And for me, knowing what it's like for everyone is something I love. It's all I have." Sherlock tilted his head in wonderment. Speaking slowly, as if he were talking to a naive child.

"Why don't you try figuring it out for yourself? Make a deduction about me. It's not hard."

Sherlock Holmes

A rueful smile ghosted her face, eyes once more coming out of focus. "It's hard when you don't know what you're looking for." What was that supposed to mean? Knees drawn tightly into her stomach she rested her head back, leaning slightly on his shoulder.

"How is it hard?" He asked, trying to not get her hair into his mouth.

"Because I don't know what I'm looking at." Adele yawned, eyes drawing shut. "You have to know to see."

She dozed off eventually, her full weight baring down on him like he were a squishy mattress. He wondered idly what she meant by that. But there were other pressing matters to deal with…as soon as he figured out how to get from under her.