"It's been a while." Lestrade finally spoke. He was the man who had come to visit Céline. "When I found out you were teaching here I thought I'd stop by and see you in person." He scratched his head nervously as he spoke. Céline cleared her throat. That morning the papers began running stories of Sherlock's innocence. It had been a little over six months since his "death".

"Yes, today wraps up my first semester." She softly spoke, adjusting her shoulder strap. Lestrade nodded. She studied him closely. His clothes were overworn as if they were the only clothes he had been wearing for weeks. Stubble was visible on his chin and he was not wearing his wedding ring.

"What do you teach?" Lestrade asked.

"Introduction to criminal law," Céline replied. Lestrade nodded and there was a long silence between the two.

"Céline...I wanted to say..." Lestrade began before she raised her hand.

"Please don't. Don't ambush me here." Céline firmly spoke. Lestrade frowned.

"Céline, I didn't mean..." Before he could continue she pushed past him and began up the stairs of the lecture hall toward the door. Lestrade followed and grabbed her arm, turning her toward him. "Céline please, don't go, I..."

"Am I interrupting something?" It was Mycroft. Lestrade let go of Céline and put his hands in his pockets.

"I was just saying hello. I wanted to see how she was doing after leaving..." Lestrade managed to stutter. Céline was surprised to see Mycroft. He had a small bouquet of white roses in small porcelain vase for her.

"I see..." Mycroft spoke, his tone was unconvinced. Lestrade stuck his hands in his pockets and nervously looked back to Céline.

"Mycroft, I'll meet you outside in a minute," Céline spoke. Mycroft nodded and went outside.

"Please, Céline, let me see you. I need to speak with you." Lestrade begged in a hushed tone as Mycroft left the room. Céline took a slip of paper from her bag and scribbled her new phone number into it.

"Here." She passed it to Lestrade and Lestrade thanked her before quickly leaving. Céline rubbed her eyes and took a second to calm herself down before leaving to meet Mycroft.

"Happy first semester," Mycroft spoke, passing her the roses. Céline smiled.

"I had no idea you would come by. Thank you." She spoke, studying the roses.

"I wanted it to be a surprise but unfortunately I can't stay long. Business is taking me away this week. So I will have to miss our chess game." Mycroft spoke as he walked with her. They were making their way to her apartment.

"That's fine." Céline smiled. "Just make sure to come back in once piece."

"I have no doubts I will," Mycroft smirked. They began to cross the street toward her apartment. The sun had begun to set.

"You'll have to make it up to me of course." Céline teased. Mycroft blushed and it caught Céline's eye. She blushed too.

"I'll be sure to," Mycroft replied. There was a short silence. "What did Lestrade want?" Céline shrugged.

"I'm not fully certain." She replied. "I gave him my number. I'm guessing with the paper's coverage of...well... the paper's coverage of...Sherlock..."

"I see..." Mycroft trailed off. They had made it to her flat. It was on the third floor. Mycroft stayed back. "Well...I hope you have a wonderful night, Céline. It was a delight." Céline kissed Mycroft on the cheek once more.

"Thank you, Mycroft. Ring me once you get back." She smiled before going inside. When Céline when inside she set her bag down on her kitchen island. Her flat was small. There was a single room that was half a kitchen and half a front room. Then a master bedroom and bathroom toward the back of the apartment. The kitchen had an island and there was a paper sitting on it. It was the latest coverage of Sherlock. She went to her room to change before she went out. Her room was small, it had a large row of windows along the top of the walls and one large window almost the size of the wall on the far right wall, there were thick dark green curtains that kept the large window covered when Céline was sleeping and gone. She had an Oxford-style desk in the corner where she did any professorial work. Beside it was a clothing rack with all of her dresses. Her bed and bedside table were on the wall facing the door. On her bedside table was a rose-scented candle and the latest book she was reading. This month she was reading Emma by Jane Austen. Céline set the vase with the roses from Mycroft down on the bedside table, admiring them for a moment before changing into a mock neck top and pair of beige trousers. She kept her pearl necklace on.

After changing she left her apartment and walked to the shops that were six blocks away. She picked up some basic Christmas things. She picked up the ingredients for mince pies and a Bakewell tart. Then she stopped at the decor shop and got a small tree, ornaments, a white and red striped blanket, and two stockings. She took a cab home and the cab driver helped her carry her things to her apartment. Once everything was up and she was alone again she tied on an apron, put her hair back into a ponytail, and began to bake. She made the pastry for the pies and tart. Then put them both in the oven. When she finished this she put up the tree in her front room and decorated it with silver and gold ornaments and tinsel. Flour was still on her cheek and in her hair from baking. A half-hour later as the tarts cooled down she sat down with the two stockings and got a marker pen. On the first stocking, she stenciled her name on the white fur. On the second she stenciled Sherlock's name. She stared at them both for a long moment before taking them into her room and hanging them on the bedposts at the end of her bed. She sat on the floor and looked at them and suddenly a sad feeling overwhelmed her. Her eyes filled with tears and she began to cry. She remembered this time last year. She had just moved into 221b Baker Street and was helping Miss. Hudson decorate 221b Baker Street.

A little while later when she managed to stop crying she stood and grabbed her copy of Emma from her bedside table and took it into the bath with her. She started the bath and added in peppermint oil before getting into the hot water to read. She was on page 164 and her eyes focused on a particular line.

I may have lost my heart, but not my self-control.