Sherlock turned around briskly and strode back the way he had come. John stood still on the middle of the road, watching his best friend running away.

Sherlock knew he was being unreasonable, but on the other hand he thought he had every reason to be unreasonable. See? Perfect.

Except it wasn't.

Was this was people called sentiment? He had thought he'd be fine so he could talk to her and get it over with. He knew everyone in the village expected them to talk and be friends, but Sherlock didn't want to.

When he had seen her bright red curls just a few pews in front of him, he had panicked. Not as much as when he was at Baskerville, but still, Sherlock had felt that weird feeling in the bottom of his stomach. In all honesty, he did want to talk to her and hear her voice again. It was just…

Sherlock sighed, irritated, and buried his unwounded hand deep in his pockets and tried to pull his coat closer around him. He wanted to go home, properly home which meant Baker Street, tea and his violin. He didn't want to be here, being vulnerable, with his parents and everyone that seemed to know him. There was no way he could protect himself here. That hopeless mind of him… It only made matters worse.

Okay, he had to be honest. He enjoyed Mr. Smith's company and the mothering of Miss Madge, and the playful scolding of Jeremiah. Hell, he even liked Vicar Richardson's company better than hers.

He closed his eyes and slowed down his pace. But then there was Moriarty. John and Mycroft didn't understand, but he could still hear the low-voiced warning.

"If you don't stop prying, I'll burn you. I'll burn the heart out of you."

Sherlock shivered. He had thought that by burning the heart out of him, Jim had meant something to do with John. How could he ever have been so stupid? It was so obvious, after all. Sherlock grimaced resentfully.

Sentiment.

"Anna, did you talk to him?"

"No, mum, I didn't." Anna wiped the red curls out of her face, and focused her bright green eyes on her younger sister who stood in the door way.

"You should have, you know," Esther said. "I thought you fanc-"

"Shut up, Es!" Anna said, her cheeks flushing. "We haven't spoken for years, why should we start now?"

Esther sighed exaggeratedly. "Isn't that obvious? If you talk to him, I can get closer to him… Have you seen those cheekbones and those eyes…? They can look right through you!" \

Es only tried to be poetic, but it started to work on her sister's nerves.

"He can do that Es, and I can solemnly assure you that it's not a good thing." Anna closed her eyes as she let herself drop flatly on her bed, her arms landing above her head. "Sherlock Holmes is not an easy man to have around, and I think it's more than telling that he didn't want to talk to me."

"Does he know about Jamie?" Esther asked, eying her sister thoroughly.

"No. And why should he? It's not as if we're still friends." Anna closed her eyes and rubbed her face tiredly. "Argh!" she suddenly shouted, causing her sister to jump. "It's just insane!"

"What is?" Es asked silently. Her sister needed some time to vent her frustrations.

"It's just… I haven't spoken to, or thought about him-"

"That's not true, Ann," Esther objected.

"Okay. I haven't spoken to him for ages, and thought about him only really, really rarely, then I see him, he is his annoying self and I'm going mad already!"

Esther grinned. "You know what I think, don't you?"

Anna opened her eyes and glared at her little sister. Well, little… Younger would be better. She really had grown since Anna went back to Paris. When did that happen? Anna couldn't help but notice that her sister had changed into a more mature person, and, Anna sourly admitted, she needed some advice now and then. Just not on this matter. On this matter, Anna could perfectly make her own choices.

"Esther dear, in case you hadn't noticed, I'm engaged to Jamie."

Esther shrugged. "Sherlock is much better looking. He's got black hair, Jamie's fair haired. Sherlock's got grey-blue eyes, Jamie has very dark eyes. Plus Jamie has that weird accent, Sherlock…" Esther fell silent.

"Yes?" Anna encouraged her.

"Well, it's not as if I heard him talk," Esther admitted reluctantly.

Anna sniggered. "Thank goodness you didn't. He has the poshest accent you've ever heard. Only Mycroft is worse."

John suddenly got very angry. "Sherlock Holmes!" he bellowed. "You git, stand still!"

Sherlock froze in his movements and slowly turned around to face his friend who came marching towards him.

"What is it, John?" It almost sounded innocently, and it pissed John off even more.

"What is it, John?" he mimicked. "What do you mean, what is it? You are not behaving normally, Sherlock. If this is one of your weird brain twists, then tell me!"

"Brain twists?"

John inhaled deeply and allowed the air to slowly escape through his parted lips. "Sherlock," he said, soft now. "I cannot understand why you don't want to talk to her, but I will once you tell me. You can't block me out on this. I told you I want to help, and I do. But the question is, will you let me?"

Sherlock shrugged, trying to keep up the façade of cool and distant. "I don't know, John. I think I'm just wired… I think I got myself a bit worked up, and now I need some time alone. To think."

John's eyes locked Sherlock's, and John tried to read Sherlock the way Sherlock always read him so easily. There was nothing. "Okay," he finally gave in.

"Good." Sherlock relaxed almost invisibly. "Why don't you go home? I'll follow soon."

John nodded and walked on. Sherlock stood on the road a bit longer, and when John had disappeared behind the bend in the road, Sherlock moved swiftly towards the side of it and vanished into the woods.

"Esther, if you don't mind, I want to spend some time alone now." Anna looked at her sister who seemed to understand.

She turned around, going to leave, but before she closed the door behind her, Esther said, "Talking to him doesn't have to mean anything, Ann. You have been friends for I don't know how long. You never told me what happened between the two of you, and I think it's none of my business, but I do know it's not good to let friendships like the one you two seemed to share fade away into nothingness."

Anna blinked. That was sound advice. "Thanks, Es. I'll keep that in mind."

Esther nodded, "And that's all I'm asking."

The door closed behind her, and Anna closed her eyes. Thankfully she could leave this stupid village in less than a week. If only Jamie had been here, things might have been fun at least.

At the thought of Jamie, Anna smiled. She was sure Jamie and Sherlock could be friends, they were very much alike. They had the same kind of humor, and, Anna suspected, even had the same brilliant intellect. It was just that Jamie seemed to know what he wanted, and that was Anna. And that was all the red-head asked for.

John entered the house and found the rest of the family in the garden. It was after all wonderful weather just as the morning had promised.

"Ah, John, there you are," Mr., Henry, Holmes greeted him jovially. "Oh. Where is Sherlock?"

John sat down and accepted the cold drink Mrs. Holmes offered. "I have no idea. He wanted some time to think. He does that, you know, even at home. But then he just lays there and I think it's more often I than he that leaves the flat."

Mrs. Holmes sat down too and donned her sunglasses. "We are very grateful for all you've done to him, John," she said. "We told you before, at the hospital, but we see now that he really has changed a bit."

John raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

Henry Holmes nodded. "He is kinder, he doesn't sulk at much and he even eats a bit. I think that is more than we once could have hoped for."

John smiled. "I'm just glad I found him. You know, he is more my saviour than I his. I don't want to imagine a life without him."

"We are just very glad to know he has such a wonderful friend. He didn't have many when he was young you know. Only Anna, and Christopher of course." Sherlock's mum sighed.

John's brow creased when he frowned. "I've heard about Anna from Mycroft, but who is Christopher?"

Mycroft sighed and looked up from his laptop to address John. "Christopher was the butcher's son. They always did experiments together, at the Tree Palace. One day when Sherlock was ill, had had caught something like the measles if I remember correctly, Chris decided to carry out some of the experiments on his own. I don't know what experiment it was because all of that is such a blur, but Chris was wounded badly. He died at the hospital six weeks later."

John swallowed with difficulty. "Why did he never talk to me about this? He never even mentioned Christopher."

Henry smiled sadly. "Sherlock had two friends. One of them died, the other disappeared to France. I don't think he wants to be in such pain ever again."

"Which is why we are so grateful he has accepted you. You really must be something," Mrs. Holmes added, with something akin to awe.

The blonde laughed nervously. "Really, I did nothing."

Mycroft smiled at him and his gaze lingered just a bit too long to be casual.

"Oh dear!" Mrs. Holmes sprang to her feet. "The service begins in thirty minutes. Why is Sherlock still not here?"

"Relax, dear," Mr. Holmes said reassuringly. "We have plenty of time, and I am sure Sherlock will be there in time too. And if not, he can answer for his actions. John, are you coming too?"

John got to his feet. "Of course."

It might after all be the perfect opinion of seeing Anna.

"Anna!" Esther shouted up the stairs. "Are you coming too? Mum and dad are asking."

"No, I think I'll stay at home. I have a terrible headache. I think it must be the jetlag," Anna answered.

It was silent for a while, until Anna heard the pounding of her sister's footsteps on the stairs. The door opened and a wide-grinning Esther stood at the threshold. "Really, Ann? You have a jetlag? After a one-hour flight?"

Anna nodded.

"Fine! I'll tell mum and dad, but Ann… you owe me, girl. You owe me big time."

"Yes, yes!" Anna said, flapping her hands to usher her sister out of the room. "I owe you, I know!"

Esther left the room, purposely slamming the door, trying to make a point. Anna waited until all of her family had left the house and then left her room. She walked downstairs, grabbed a bottle of water and left the house, not forgetting to bring a key. She had learned from that one time…

A quarter of an hour later, Anna softly pressed the palm of her right hand against the stem of the tree. "SH's Tree Palace," she read out loud.

She then pressed the burl and stepped aside to avoid being hit by the rope ladder. She climbed the ladder swiftly and arrived at the first floor quickly. She glanced around. Nothing had changed, really. Would the light still work?

She crossed the room and pressed the button, and indeed, the small lamp flickered on, giving the room an airy feeling. The book-case was empty, but Anna knew the chest upstairs held Sherlock's dearest possessions. Would it still hold it?

She climbed the stairs in the corner and reached the second floor. The chest still stood in the corner. The only thing that struck Anna as odd was Sherlock's microscope. It stood forlorn on the round table in the middle of the room.

That in itself wasn't weird, but the fact there wasn't any dust, that was what didn't make sense. Anna carefully touched the lamp and immediately withdrew her finger as if bitten. It was still warm. Sherlock must have been her ten minutes out most before her. She suddenly watched the room with a whole other feeling. Sherlock had been here.

Realising he wouldn't return, she walked over to the chest and lifted the lid. She smiled fondly when she recognised her books: Jane Eyre, Miss Marple. Treasure Island.

She picked up the last book and fingered the cover. It was an expensive edition, and it still looked as good as new. Contrary to popular believe, Sherlock couldn't always guess the outcome of a book. He loved reading ever since he could.

Reading in fact, had saved the small, dark-haired boy more often than he would care to admit. Miss Madge must have had a sharp eye for this sort of things.

Careful steps on the first floor interrupted Anna's train of thought. She realised she still carried the book, but decided putting it back would take up too much time and instead put it behind the waistband of her swirly white skirt. She opened the window and climbed out of it, careful to get a good grip on the rough wood of the tree house. She pulled herself up and seated on the roof silently. She heard the footsteps reaching the second floor. She felt her heart beat fast, and thought about what could have gone wrong. The rope ladder lifted itself, so this person must be someone who knew about the burl.

Anna giggled. She behaved like an intruder. Well, by the man now inside she would be definitely regarded as such.

After some more shuffling, the footsteps went down again and Anna released the breath she had been holding.

She suddenly noticed she sat very comfortable here, and, having a book with her anyway, decided not to leave this very instant.

She removed the book from behind her waistband and again caressed the cover. She opened it, lingered on the first page.

From Chris to Sherlock,

For your tenth birthday because R.L. Stevenson said that "X marks the spot".

Slowly Anna turned the page and began to read.

"The Old Sea-dog at the Admiral Benbow

SQUIRE TRELAWNEY, Dr. Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island, from the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearings of the island, and that only because there is still treasure not yet lifted, I take up my pen in the year of grace 17_ and go back to the time when my father kept the Admiral Benbow inn and the brown old seaman with the sabre cut first took up his lodging under our roof…

Sherlock arrived at church with almost twenty minutes to spare. He knew how much his mother and father appreciated it when he showed up in time, so he obeyed. But only on Sundays, mind, he wasn't going to do it all the time.

Suddenly he remembered that, in his hurry, he had left the microscope on the table. It would gather dust, or be damaged by some animal. He left the pew and ran to his tree house. He climbed the rope ladder, en saw the light was still on.

How odd.

He could vaguely remember having it turn off. He shrugged. His mind wasn't in his actions and he had been in a hurry. He was only human after all. He climbed the stairs to the second floor and saw his microscope standing were he left it, undamaged at first sight. Good. He lifted it and carried it downstairs where he placed it under the floor. He left the tree house and reached the church just in time to slip beside John, who sat beside Mycroft who hissed, "Where have you been? You were almost too late!"

"Well, almost but not quite. Now shut up, Richardson wants to start."

"Anna, where have you been?" Anna's mother looked at her eldest daughter.

"I went into the forest, mum," she answered. "I needed to get the air of Paris out of my lungs."

Her mother smiled, "And right you are. Did you enjoy it? Was the Tree Palace still as beautiful?"

Anna nodded, speechless. "How did you know?"

Her mother grinned smugly but didn't answer. Instead she said, "Can you get the plates, dear? Dinner's ready."

To be continued.

A/N: Thank you for all your alerts and reviews! I love them! I do apologise for the time it took me to upload, I was busy and had some sort of writer's block on this one, so I have been spitting out some one-shots and a full-out story May I Kiss You? I hoped to have given you some insight in Sherlock's mind… I hope I haven't overdone it. I'd love to hear your opinions!

Special thanks to:

IamDoctorWholocked: Of course! You are amazing! This review too, thank you! They are very inspiring and help me to continue! Otherwise I would have given up already. Thanks for the cookies, I devoured them.

A Fan: Oh dear, I have gotten myself a fan. Is that good? Doesn't matter because you appear to know Pride and Prejudice. Thank you!

lovelynobody00: Thank you for reviewing. Have you read all of the chapts already? It will get better for the characters, at least I think so. Unless I am lying, which is rather plausible. And you are not stupid, you just don't think. :D Now, that's cruel. I hope it makes more sense after this chapter?

Agent007Tomato: Wow. Thank you so much for your kind words. I hope I'll be able to keep living up to that. BTW, I LOVE your avatar-picture-thingey.

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Okay, that was that. I honestly don't know what will happen in the next chapter, any ideas are welcome. I'll try to update asap, but for now I'm signing off. Byebye!

- CowMow