Reposting this because Fanfiction decided to chop the first paragraph off for some reason... Hello, readers! I apologise in advance for the shortness of this chapter, I just wanted the next part to be completely separate. And y'know I wanted to leave you in suspense XD Chapter five is a long one though, so I hope that makes up for it. Things are going to start getting dangerous rather soon...

. . .

It was 3pm and Scarlett's mother was starting to worry. She had texted the young girl about four times now, asking when she planned on getting home and each text held a little more urgency. Scarlett answered very cryptically each time, saying that she 'wouldn't be long' but never giving an exact response. It was better that, she thought, than tell her mum the truth about the day's events. The now stitched up gash on her head would prove difficult to explain though. As she walked around 221B, Scarlett tried her best to come up with a plausible scenario.

The flat itself proved to be quite the distraction though. It was so incredibly detailed; she couldn't believe it. So many things lay about that had totally gone unnoticed on the television screen. She spent her time scanning the bookshelves in the living room, noting each individual book title, and running her fingers over the bullet marks in the wall, and simply staring at Sherlock's old 'friend' the skull who was still balanced on the mantelpiece.

As for the detective, he had not spoken a word to Scarlett since she had complimented him. It was like he didn't know WHAT to say, which really did make a change. It didn't need to be said out loud that the reason the redhead had not left yet was because John would most likely want to check up on her before she went. 'Discharge' her from his care, so to speak.

He should be back any minute and so Scarlett continued to wander the flat, taking it all in. She wanted to make the very most of this dream. Just as she started to explore the kitchen, Sherlock's voice cut through the deafening silence, making her start in surprise.

"Do not touch my experiments."

The corner of Scarlett's mouth lifted up in a half-smirk. Typical Sherlock. Her eyes scanned the kitchen table that was SUPPOSED to be used for eating at but instead had become a mini laboratory for the consulting detective. It really was fascinating. Chemicals all over the place, Petri dishes and a microscope; the works. She wasn't even surprised when she noticed a jar of pickled toes next to a Bunsen burner. It was no less than she had expected, really. In fact, it made her smirk grow even wider. The amount of times that she had wished to be in this place, to do what she was doing now... and here she was. Dream or not, this was fantastic.

It was then that the quiet vanished once again and was replaced with the sound of footfalls coming up the steps to the flat. John.

Scarlett shuffled back into the living room to see Sherlock lying on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. She braced herself to resist the urge to run at John Watson and give him a HUGE hug. It was something that she had always wanted to do, especially since his best friend faked his death. She loved his hilarious jumpers and his ability to go through about three women in a month and, most of all, she loved the way that he managed to live with a flatmate like Sherlock Holmes.

With carrier bags in hand and a very tired look upon his face, John Watson pushed the flat door open and blinked at the sight before him. He looked at Scarlett. Then at Sherlock. Then back to Scarlett again.

"/You/... should be the one resting, not him."

The teenager smiled warmly. So kind a man was Dr Watson. It was very hard not to instantly become attached to him.

"I'm fine."

"She's fine."

Both the detective and Scarlett spoke at the very same time before exchanging identical glances with each other. Then Scarlett smiled and shook her head.

"Honestly, I am fine, Dr Watson."

She walked purposely over to where he had dropped the bags on the floor and was now studying the young girl sceptically as she was being very careful to keep in a straight line with each step.

"Look! Fine! All thanks to you, of course, and your marvellous doctoring skills."

Flattery will get you everywhere. Scarlett was very much a schmoozer in the sense that she knew who to get on the right side of to get where she needed to be. And right now, she needed to be home. As much as she wished to stay and talk for hours on end with these two... frankly impossible men, her mother would throw and absolute fit if she wasn't back within an hour. She would probably send out a search party and Scarlett couldn't be dealing with that. Nor could the two flatmate's deal with kidnapping charges.

John was smiling at her now, clearly taken in by the compliment, whilst Sherlock just rolled his eyes. He, of course, saw what she wanted and spoke without looking at either of them.

"I do believe Ms Daniels has a home to be getting to and a mother to be scolded by. Let's not keep her here any longer than necessary, John, this is becoming tedious."

As badly worded as that was, Scarlett was grateful for the input. She could never be so rude as to get to the point like that; it was not how she was brought up. The army doctor was looking at her very apologetically now, a look that she had seen MANY times before on her screen at home. She waved him off with a flourish of her hand.

"It's fine, I've read your blog; I kind of guessed that he would be like this."

The lie came surprisingly easy to her and she couldn't help but glance at Sherlock to see if he had picked up on any giveaways in her voice. But he hadn't budged from his position on the sofa and was just looking as bored as ever.

Scarlett cleared her throat.

"But he is right. I do... need to go. My mum's panicking a bit."

The girl smiled nervously as John nodded in understanding.

"Yeah, I can imagine. Just..." he frowned, moving closer to her and examining the cut on her head. "Please keep that clean, right? Drink plenty of water and take painkillers for the headache. Should heal up in a couple of weeks; wasn't as deep as I first thought."

The urge to hug him was hard for Scarlett to resist and she only just managed not to give into temptation and swallow him in a bear hug, not sure how he would react to a hug from a teenage girl whom he did not know.

"Thank you, Dr Watson."

She began to pull her jacket back on and head towards the door, a pool of sadness welling up in her chest as she thought about leaving this place. At the door now, she turned back to the two men in the room, looking between both of them as she talked.

"Hey, you two."

Sherlock's eyebrow lifted lazily as he turned his head ever so slightly so that the ginger girl was in his line of vision.

"Keep... being brilliant, yeah? And... Take care."

Then, with a smile and a wave, Scarlett started her decent back to the street and the real world beyond. She felt... deflated. That was the only way to describe it. Or, like when you've had a really amazing caffeine buzz and then... it dies and you're left feeling... like a balloon that has had all the air sucked out of it. The thought occurred to her that she would never again meet Sherlock Holmes or John Watson. That she was going to wake up soon and never experience anything like it again. It only made her deflate further.

How very incorrect that particular thought was. For Scarlett's entry into the life of the two flatmate's had sparked something much bigger. A storm was coming. A storm that brought danger and death in its wake. And Scarlett Daniels was going to be right at the eye this storm. The part that she was to play was bigger than anyone could have imagined.

. . .

DUN. DUN. DUUUUN. Thank you to all who are following this story, it really does mean a lot. I actually cannot wait to post the next chapter, it's my favourite so far XD Remember that not only do reviews equal quicker updates but that the reviewer themselves also gets a cheeky preview of the next chapter in their PM box. Thanks again for reading! Be seeing you soooooon!

OH.

PS ~ I am looking for a beta for this story and if anyone is interested, please pop me a PM. Ta!