I'm so glad so many of you seemed to enjoy the last chapter. Thank you so much to ILoveHLaurie, Laudine, starbrightnights, Old Gregg93, The Beth midget, prettyinpunk66, Tracy137, PoisonLily, Yugicanbesexy, OhTex, Johannaderry, MaiaAvari, reallyverybored, WordsWrittenByHeart, Eleanor B-F, synethesiac and xxkissesandcuddlesxx for reviewing.

I hope you all like this chapter.

Sherlock gazed up at the dark and cloudy sky as droplets of rain began to fall all around him.

Flashing lights and a murmur of noise filled the now crowded street.

Neighbours and passersby had all congregated beyond a police line that was now cordoning off Rebecca's house, or at least the remnants of it.

Bricks and rubble lined the garden and pavement beyond, and fire fighters were working hard to put out the blaze that continued to burn inside the small terraced house.

Rebecca had informed Lestrade, who had been one of the first officers on the scene, that her neighbours were thankfully away on holiday, but the young lawyer had pretty much been inconsolable.

Sherlock glanced over to where Rebecca stood with John, on the glistening pavement, an orange blanket wrapped around her shivering shoulders.

She looked so different. Her usual coiffed now hair now hung past her shoulders limply while in place of her usual pencil skirt and blouse was a simple navy scoop neck t-shirt and jeans. Her shoulders were hunched over and her head was bowed.

Sherlock rocked back on his heels as he watched her from the corner of his eye.

A sudden urge to move over to her overwhelmed him. A well-placed hand upon her shoulder. He could provide her with that at least, after five years of service.

But before the detective could even move, John had suddenly approached Rebecca himself, pulling the weeping girl into a comforting embrace.

Sherlock's stomach jolted as he watched John rub gentle circles on Rebecca's back, and whisper soothing words into her ear.

His eyes narrowed as he watched the pair for several minutes, hugging on the rainy street.

It wasn't until Lestrade approached the pair did Sherlock finally stride over to them.

...

Rebecca watched as Sherlock finally ambled over towards her.

She had been grateful to him for saving Toby, of course she had been. But ever since the police had arrived and John had begun consoling her, Sherlock had not said a word and kept his distance.

She really needed him right now. She thought they had been...well, friends at least.

But it was like he didn't want to know her.

Like she wasn't interesting enough to know.

Anger bubbled up inside her as Sherlock walked towards her, his body stiff and his eyes cold.

"Miss Francis," came the solemn voice of Lestrade at her side. "I'm afraid from the looks of it were looking at a case of attempted murder. Were not quite sure why anyone would want to do this to you but we're looking into it as we speak."

Rebecca sniffed, rubbing her teary eyes on the edge of the blanket covering her shoulders, before her eyes suddenly flashed in Sherlock's direction.

"I'll tell you why, " she muttered angrily, "it's because of you. All of this. It's just someone trying to get to you through me."

As she spoke she poked Sherlock in the chest with her finger.

The detective stared back at her darkly. He didn't even care did he?

"I assure you this was nothing to do with me," he said in a low voice.

"Oh yeah?" said Rebecca shoving him with her hand. "You think that someone would come after me? I'm no-one Sherlock...but you...I've seen the things you've done...the people you've sent down. You've got enemies, and lots of them. I was just stuck in the middle!"

She glared up at Sherlock who remained stony-faced and silent, as angry tears poured from her eyes.

"Like I said," cut in Lestrade after a moment. "We have all our teams working on it. We'll catch whoever did this Miss Francis, don't you worry. But if you wouldn't mind, we'd like you to come down to the station and answer a few routine questions."

Rebecca sniffed and nodded her head before turning towards her blackened and destroyed house.

"But everything I owned was in there..." she mumbled.

"What? A hoard of over-priced handbags and a monstrosity of a sofa," said Sherlock mockingly.

Rebecca gaped.

This man who she had spent the past five years working for...this is all he could say to her.

Well, did she really expect any more from him? This arrogant, pompous...

The sound of Rebecca's hand colliding with Sherlock's cheek reverberated through the street like gunshot.

Both John and Lestrade gaped as Sherlock slowly lifted his gloved hand to his stinging cheek, a look of pure shock upon his face.

"Material things? Is that all you think I care about Sherlock?" yelled Rebecca loudly, drawing herself up to her full height. "I don't care about those things. What I've lost are memories. Photos and love letters...the things that matter to me. The things I care about. Friends, lovers, family...But you would know about any of that would you Sherlock? Because you don't care for anything but yourself!"

And with that, the tearful Rebecca turned on her heel and strutted towards the waiting police car and got inside.

Sherlock said nothing and merely stared solemnly after the police car as it pulled away, Rebecca's words still ringing in his ears.

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