Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock
Berate
Anderson had heard Sally tear into people before, but from what he could hear coming from her office, someone was really getting it.
"—almost had me fooled!" She was saying "But you still don't care about anyone but yourself!"
She slammed out the door and almost knocked Anderson down.
"Freak's not dead," She said, barreling forward and hardly giving him a second glance.
Anderson stared at the door in front of him, shocked. Sherlock Holmes, alive? It wasn't possible… yet he could see the consultant silhouetted on the door blinds.
The detective didn't turn when he entered the office. He was bent over the desk writing a note.
"I have a lead for you on the Adair murder," He said bluntly. "Follow it if you want. I have to leave."
Holmes turned and shoved the note into Anderson's hands, and pushing his way out of the room. After a moment, the forensic scientist followed. He caught up to the consultant just outside the station doors.
"Holmes," He said. The detective turned to look at him, and Anderson hesitated. But he forced the words out. "I'm… glad you're alive. So is Sally. She's just shocked. It's our fault you... died. It nearly killed Greg. We're just getting over that and now you're alive. You see?"
The detective walked away without replying.