Georgia stared down into the toilet. "Oh god."

She made her way into the living room where she found Sherlock lounging on the couch. "I started, um, something feminine," she told him, wringing her hands together.

Sherlock sighed and leaned his head back. "John!" he called out.

Georgia's shoulders slumped, and she thought that John must be Sherlock's solution to every problem. Need milk? Call John. Need pads for the random girl you've got living in your apartment? Call John.

"What?" John kicked the refrigerator door closed and dropped something in the sink. He cursed and picked it up with two fingers, carrying it over to the trash can, where he seemed all too happy to dispose of...whatever it was. Georgia didn't want to know.

"Go to the store."

"Why?" John wiped his hands off on a dish towel. "I just got milk yesterday. We can't have run out this soon."

"No, no," Sherlock said, as though John was completely idiotic. He gestured to Georgia, who jumped in humiliation. "She needs certain items."

"What do you—oh."

Georgia's cheeks turned bright red and her chin dropped to her chest. "Yeah," she mumbled. "That."

"Why don't you go and get it?" John said in a rather defensive tone as he glared at Sherlock.

The sociopath groaned. "Because I don't feel like it."

John was about to argue, the tips of his ears turning crimson, when Sherlock rolled his eyes and said, "John. Just go."

"Oh, fine."

He grabbed his coat and made sure the door slammed on his way out.

"Want to play chess again while we wait?" She lowered herself into one of the many chairs in the living room.

"No," Sherlock said.

"Why not?" She frowned. "Is it because I won last time?"

"Yes." He didn't seem to enjoy admitting this. In fact, there seemed to be a hidden message in his tone: Shut up about it, now.

"Come on," she said, leaning forward and prodding him in the side. He practically fell onto the couch, giving her an exasperated look. "I'll go easy on you."

"No, that won't be necessary."

"Oh, pleeeeaaase?" She was aware that, in her 'past life', she would never have done something like this. This knowledge pleased her.

"Oh, fine."

However, before either of them could move to find the chess board buried beneath piles of random items scattered throughout the living room, the doorbell rang. Georgia immediately shrugged it off, assuming it to be John.

"Maybe he forgot his keys," she said, moving a stack of books. Sherlock was frowning, though.

"He wouldn't do that," he mumbled to himself. He gestured for her to follow him as he opened the door and stepped out.

"Can't Mrs. Hudson get that...?" Georgia was uncertain now, and an odd feeling was creeping up her spine.

"Mrs. Hudson is next door having tea," Sherlock replied. He began quietly descending the stairs, and he brought his finger to his lips. Clearly he found something wrong about the situation. Georgia hugged the wall, padding down softly behind him.

When he opened the door, no one was there. He looked down and Georgia followed his gaze. She would regret it.

She covered her mouth and stumbled backward, collapsing at the bottom of the stairs with a gasp. Sitting on the front step outside the door was the burnt remains of a rabbit. Something floated into her mind, a memory of heat and sweat and metal doors—

"Someone knows you're here," Sherlock said, crouching down to study the black corpse. She squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated on the wonderful feeling of the cold floor beneath her.

He stood, closed the door, and swept past her, up the stairs. Using the railing, she shakily pulled herself to her feet and followed him into the upstairs flat, where she found him making a call to someone.

"—and if you find any burned bodies, you'll tell me about them?" There was a pause as he listened to the voice on the other end of the line, and in this pause her vision swam. "Good." He hung up.

"Well," he said, turning to look her over. There was an excited glint in his eye that she didn't quite trust. "This is getting interesting."

The next few seconds were a blur for her. She was aware, at first, of a fury emerging from deep inside. And then suddenly she was standing in front of Sherlock, who was pressing a hand to his cheek with a shocked expression and her hand stung.

"No," she said through gritted teeth, trembling. "It's not interesting. It's horrible and constantly makes me feel like I'm going to throw up. Don't you dare say that it's interesting."

For once he was completely silent . Her nails dug into her palms and she steadied her breathing and glared at him, wishing that, at that moment, looks really could kill. Here she was having a mental crisis and he's treating it like a game.

They stared at each other. Eventually she stopped shaking and her muscles loosened and she sighed. He regarded her with cautious but curious eyes.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. He didn't say anything, just held his hand to his face and watched her carefully. Like she would suddenly strike out again.

"What are you thinking?" she asked, before she could stop herself. The words felt so familiar on her tongue, and they came out automatically, mechanically.

"Lots of things," he said, finally bringing his hand away from his cheek. There was a pink mark there that resembled her hand. "You might try asking something more specific."

She shook her head. "No, no, nevermind. I don't know where that question came from."

"Ah."

She didn't like how silent he was, how he seemed to be leaning away from her, eyebrows knitted together as he watched her. In fact, she hated it. She felt her stomach churning, and knew that the expression on her face wasn't a pleasant one.

"Stop that."

Before he could answer, the door opened and slammed shut downstairs.

"Hey!" John cried, feet pounding on the stairs. They both turned to the doorway as he burst into the room. "Could someone please tell me why there's a burnt rabbit corpse outside?" He was glaring pointedly at Sherlock.

"It wasn't me," the detective said.

Georgia raced to the kitchen. "I'm going to throw up."


Author's Note: Sorry, guys, this one came out a bit heavier/darker than the other ones. I'll try to include more humor in the next chapter. :)