Special thanks to my reviewers: Themadwitch, Ignota, TheGirlWhoImagined, Midnight Angel414.

This is going to start out with Sherlock, then it's going to move over to Sophie/Avery's view.


Sherlock sat in his chair in 221b thinking.

It was the third murder by the same man within three months.

The first murder he left no clue, he only took the wooden box that Anne Schmitt had been holding. Which was something that Sherlock missed at first, much to his annoyance, but picked up on it before he found the wooden box before the second murder came about.

The second murder is where Sherlock found the said object, buried deep within the victim's body. The victim was a middle aged obese man who was at the top of his game in the business industry, just the same as the Schmitt's were.

The only reason that he found it was because there was a note saying, ''The treasure is in the belly of the beast.'" referring to the victim. He wasted no time digging in the poor man's stomach to find what 'treasure' might be there. Needless to say, Sherlock wasn't really surprised to find the box.

What was perplexing though was what was inside of the tiny box. Normally there would be a note, a piece of jewelry, or even a trinket or two. But no, this box was empty. Only thing that was inside of it was a letter that was carved on the inside of the lid.

The letter S.

At first, Lestrade had thought it was a message for Sherlock, and so did the detective. Sherlock made a lot of enemies, so it sounded rational that there'd be someone out to get him by luring the detective in by committing murders. But after searching the crime scene just yesterday, the consulting detective found out that it wasn't a message for him, but for someone else. Searching the body, he found that there was a letter carved into the victim's stomach.

The letter O.

Just the same as the first two victims, this victim was rich and high up in the business industry. His name was Jerry Kindler, a wealthy business owner of the Kindler Hotels. It was obvious that the killer was after people who had a lot of money and a very high status. But who was the killer drawing out? And why kill people with such a high status? Was he trying to capture their attention? Or maybe he was doing this to toy with a certain detective.

Sherlock smirked. This was getting interesting. Very, very interesting.

Three people murdered. First victim had no clues, only something taken from her- a wooden box. Second victim didn't have anything removed, only contained the box from the first victim, clearly linking the two. The third victim didn't have any link to the first two murders, but the carving in Kindler's stomach obviously showed that this murder was from the same person from before.

The only thing Sherlock gathered from the murderer was that he was tall, judging by his boot prints and the distance between them; he was roughly around the height of 5'11 and 6'1. The man was clearly experienced in this type of field, murdering people without leaving a clue behind, besides his boot prints.

But he wasn't alone. He had someone with him helping him commit these murders.

Just then, the detective's flatmate walked into the living room, and seemed to be carrying what looked like a woman's coat.

At this observation, Sherlock cocked an eyebrow thinking that the doctor brought his fiancé, Sarah, home with him.

Instead of seeing a familiar flow of straight brunette locks, Sherlock saw a messy wad of brown hair behind John.

Avery.


Sophie stood in the flat of 221b nervous and ready to run should things go badly. She wore her flats today so it shouldn't be hard if she does need to do the said thing.

She'd been living in 221c for around two weeks now, but she only managed to befriend John Watson. She didn't really feel comfortable around Sherlock, it was like he knew every thing about her, even the whole reason as to why she's here in England in the first place.

Though, during her time she had got to know John a little bit better and learned that Sherlock was a consulting detective, and a sociopath. So he was always like that.

She also learned that John was engaged to a woman named Sarah. She hadn't met Sarah yet, but from the way John described her she sounded pretty likeable. Though she didn't make any plans to meet the woman anytime soon, as stated before, Sophie wasn't really good at meeting new people, even if she did give it her best efforts and even put on a little show.

John would often come down to 221c just to keep Sophie company, she didn't really look like the type of girl who would have a lot of friends, plus John thought she was really nice.

Sophie learned that John was actually accepting when it came to her Asperger's Syndrome (ASD). He told her that there was nothing wrong with her, that she seemed fine just the way she was.

Her and John formed a mini friendship, and Sophie even considered the man as an actual friend. Given the time, he might even turn out to be a close friend to her.

Early on in the day when Sophie arrived back at Baker Street, she ran into John along the way. Turns out he just got back from Sarah's house. The two still haven't moved in with one another. Being that John didn't and couldn't leave Sherlock at the flat by himself, saying that he couldn't do that to his friend. And he didn't want Sarah to move in with him and Sherlock due to Sherlock's eccentric behavior and because three people living in a two bedroom flat just didn't cut it. But John said that if Sherlock finds another flatmate that even he could trust, then John would move in with his fiancé. Until then, John remained at Baker Street.

John invited Sophie up for a cut of tea in his flat, even though it took a bit of persuading, the reluctant girl agreed.

Now there she stood, after John taking the girl's coat for her, in 221b, with Sherlock eyeing her down. This was the exact reason why she didn't want to come here in the first place. The dark, curly-haired man always made her feel nervous and self-conscious.

Sherlock did nothing to interrogate her though, he merely ignored her presence and went back to lying on the couch, with his hands pressed together, underneath his chin.

Sophie couldn't help the small smirk that formed on her lips. It almost looked as if Sherlock was praying.

John laid her coat down on one of the chairs in the room and turned back to her. "Ah, I'll get us a cup of tea," He said, pointing in the direction that could only be the said room. "Sherlock, do you want a cuppa?" He called to his friend.

"Two sugars!" He replied.

John mumbled something along the lines of, "I already know that, you git."

He looked back to the girl and smiled. "I'll just be in here."

Sophie nodded and shifted on her feet, not really knowing what to do.

"You can have a seat in the living room if you'd like." He suggested before opening up the doors to the kitchen and disappearing.

She pursed her lips, taking a quick glance towards the detective who was still in the same position he was in when she arrived here.

Sophie didn't want to just waltz in there and sit down, even though that's what John told her she could do. If Sherlock wasn't there then maybe she would've.

She mentally huffed. She shouldn't be feeling like this just because of one arrogant man. Even if he was the Sherlock Holmes. The man that could tell your entire life story just by one glance. Yes, she's read all about his webpage The Science of Deduction. It's pretty interesting and very well crafted.

"Are you going to sit or just stand there all day?" A deep voice murmured. She mentally flinched but on the outside appeared to be calm.

Keeping her green eyes locked on the ground, she chose the chair furthest from Sherlock, somehow trying to keep her distance. As if she's trying to avoid the inevitable.

Sherlock didn't move, but he did crack an eye open to watch as the secretive girl sat down in John's chair. Her posture was straight, she was acting as if she didn't want to touch the chair itself.

Sophie sat down awkwardly in the chair. She quickly glanced over at Sherlock, who seemed to still be ignoring her, not that she really minded all that much. But she couldn't help but wonder why Sherlock acted the way he did. She's met other sociopaths before, and none of them acted quite like he did. Most of them were, well… talkative. Sherlock didn't hardly say a damn thing!

She could hear John rummage about in the kitchen, preparing the tea. Sophie wasn't much of a tea drinker, she preferred lemonade but would take what she could get. She wasn't particularly picky.

Getting tired of the silence between her and the brown-haired man that sat only a few feet away from her.

She took a deep breath, letting it out and said, "I read your website."

Sherlock didn't move nor did he skip a beat. "Find it interesting?"

Sophie frowned. She didn't want to upset the man, but she was always pretty honest when people asked her stuff.

"It was… well, kind of dull." She said shyly.

Sherlock's eyes snapped open. He gave her a confused look. "Dull? How did you find it dull?"

She could tell he was offended, but kept carrying on, as the British would say.

"It had some interesting cases on there, but…"

"But?" He egged her on, and she got a boost of much needed confidence.

"It's dull. You know, doesn't go into very much detail?" She then lost that confidence as soon as he bolted upright and gave her a stern look.

"I am a consulting detective, I don't have the time to write some pretty little stories for my blog." He ranted.

Sophie sighed. "Maybe if you went into just a tad bit more detail it would give your readers more information, spark their interests and make them want to come back to your site for more."

Sherlock seemed as if he was taking in her information, but his stubbornness wouldn't allow him to actually take advice from anyone other than John.

"No," He said getting up and moving to his chair, across from where Sophie sat. He leaned forward, folded his hands and then let them rest underneath his chin. "I don't need to do anything to my website. It's fine just the way it is- just because your mind doesn't keep up with it and needs more detail to actually understand my words doesn't mean I'm going to dull it down." He snapped.

Sophie's frown deepened. It was just a suggestion and she clearly offended him. She didn't really mind, at least she's trying to make herself think that, but she did feel a little bit of satisfaction when she upset the consulting detective.

She didn't really get offended when he indirectly called her stupid. It's not like she can't understand what Sherlock talks about on his website, it's just that it's too plain to really catch her interest. Like she said, it needs more detail in it so it can draw more people onto the site. Instead of writing something that would draw eyes in, he wrote something that's dull and to the point. Thought to-the-point isn't necessarily bad, but a little more thought wouldn't hurt either.

John walked into the room carrying a tray of three cups. After handing Sophie and Sherlock their cups, John sat down on the couch and turned to the girl.

"So, how are you liking Baker Street?"

She gave him a small smile. "It's… different form my past places."

"Why did you move to England?" Sherlock suddenly asked her.

"Sherlock!" John protested.

Sophie swallowed her tea and thought of what her papers told her to say if asked that type of question.

"I just recently graduated college and landed a job over here." She replied smoothly.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "How about your family?"

Sophie didn't try to appear panicked on the outside, but she was dying to run away and avoid this man as much as possible. He was digging in all the wrong places.

"What about them?" Once again, she replied smoothly, only this time she added a hint of attitude. Trying to give off the impression that she didn't particularly didn't along with her family.

"You know what I mean about them." He challenged.

"I have a mother and a grandfather. Why?"

Sherlock shrugged. "Curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat." She clicked her tongue.

"Discovery brought it back." He retorted.

"But the truth made the cat ill."

"At least he wasn't kept in the dark."

Sophie sighed. This man probably would argue with you with just about anything and everything. It was annoying but at the same time intriguing.

It seemed like her and Sherlock was locked in an intense stare battle. His cold, steel eyes locked on to her emerald gaze. It was as if they both were trying to figure each other out. Like they were trying to unearth clues or hidden messages that could lead them to figuring one another out.

"So," John began, dragging out the 'o'. "How's work so far, Avery?"

Sophie tore her gaze away from Sherlock, and instead looked toward John.

"It's not too bad, but now that Mrs. Schmitt isn't there everything is just chaotic." She confessed. Trying to at least sound normal. She wanted to complain about how much she hated her job. Photography just wasn't her thing, but doing so would make her cover seem more suspicious. And her life was at stake here.

"Did you know her? Anne Schmitt?" The doctor asked.

Sophie shook her head. "Not really, I only saw her every week or so. She was always so busy that she didn't really stop by the company. The only time she ever came by was because she needed something or someone."

"Did you like her?" This time it was Sherlock who asked.

She sighed, he was trying to interrogate her indirectly. "I didn't know her well enough to say that I liked or disliked her. But I did hear from the other employees that she was a real pain in the ass." She giggled at her use of words, not really caring if they thought of her as rude or not.

Sherlock raised his eyebrow at this and John smiled.

She seems to be really coming out of her shell, John thought. Though the detective thought differently.

"You're nervous." Sherlock stated. John sighed, wishing his friend would stop and let things go.

Sophie shifted in her seat, starting to get annoyed. "Well, you're constantly asking me about things that are clearly none of your concern."

"Yet you answer them." He deadpanned.

The three of them sat there in silence. John sipping awkwardly at his tea while Sherlock and Sophie had another staring contest.

Sherlock was trying to see if there was anything about her, the way she moves or talks, that would give her away. The detective knew she was hiding something, though he didn't know what it exactly was. Of course, he'll eventually figure it out. There's no doubting that.

Just then, his phone went off, signaling he got a text. Sherlock pulled his phone out from his gown pocket and smirked.

It's about time, he thought.

John cleared his throat. "What does it say? Another case?"

Sherlock bolted up, ignoring his friend and running off to his bedroom to get dressed.

Sophie stood up, thinking that this was probably her best moment she had to leave. She handed John her tea cup and smiled.

"I'd best be off," She walked over and grabbed her coat. "Thanks for the tea and whatnot. Sherlock's… interesting." She added shyly.

John stood up and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I'm sorry about him," He said walking her over to the door. "but he's actually a good guy, he's just rough around the edges."

Sophie gave a choked laugh. "Pretty rough if you ask me." John chuckled at her comment.

Sherlock came rushing through the living room dressed, coat and all, and pushed past the two. He stopped at the doorway and looked back at the doctor.

"John, we have another case, are you coming?" He asked.

John shrugged his shoulders. "I was kind of walking Avery out-"

"Good!" He interjected. "She can come along! Hurry, the both of you now!" With that he turned on his heel and ran down the steps.

Sophie looked over at John and shook her head. "No, no. I think I'll stay."

The doctor grabbed his jacket from behind the door and pulled it on. "Could be fun."

"I'm not good around crime scenes."

"If there's anything you don't want to see, then that's fine. I just suggest you go because maybe you'll get a better understanding of Sherlock." He said as Sophie stepped outside into the hallway.

She stood at the top of the staircase and thought it John and Sherlock's offer over.

If she goes then that means she'll have to spend more time with Sherlock, and he might discover who she really is. She can't have that happening.

Also, if she goes, then she probably will have a better understanding of Sherlock and who he is, how he works. And that was something that interested her more than anything.

"If you don't want to go then that's fine." John said, now standing at the front door. Sophie wondered how he managed to get there without her noticing before.

She watched as the doctor opened the door, and step out into the cold evening air. As if on a whim, Sophie pulled her pea coat on and bolted out of the door, running up behind John right before he got in the taxi.

"Decided to come, yeah?" He smiled, "Come on then."

He gestured for her to get in before him, and she didn't think twice before stepping inside the cabby. She would be lying if she said she didn't like a good murder/mystery, even if she was living out her own mystery.

This was something that always caught her attention. She loved solving mysteries and chasing down people. It's something that always fascinated her mind when she was younger. She used to watch Scooby-Doo and read all of the Nancy Drew books, and even works by Agatha Christy.

She couldn't deny that she had a real love for solving crimes.

And here she was, sitting in a taxi with England's greatest detective and his colleague and friend, John Watson.

She couldn't keep the faint smirk from forming on her lips.


I think I like writing this story more than my others.

Not that I'm going to stop them or anything, it's just I find this interesting to write.

Anyways I'm dying. Thought I'd let you know, though my aunt calls it the common cold, I call it the fucking black plague.

Thoughts please?

Tibbles.