As the streets in London were once again terribly crowded, they did not arrive in Baker Street until an hour later. Katie had said nothing the whole trip and looked silently out of the window. It was late afternoon and she was exhausted. All she really wanted to do was sleep. But first she wanted to know what this Sherlock was all about.

"We are here", a voice suddenly sounded. Katie, staring out of the window, deeply absorbed in her thoughts, was startled for a moment.

John paid the taxi driver before he helped Katie out of the taxi. She seemed visibly exhausted, so he held out his arm again, which she accepted with thanks.

This door? I've seen this door before, she thought as John let go of it for a moment to unlock it.

As she entered the somewhat dark room, she immediately heard a friendly voice from the door opposite.

"Yoo-hoo, John! Well, who's her companion?" and looked curiously at Katie.

"Oh, hello Mrs Hudson. This is Katie Wilson. I've just come from the hospital with her. She'll be our guest for a few days," he told her.

"Oh, child, you look so pale. I hope it's nothing serious? Would you like some tea?" she asked, stroking her arm tenderly.

Nodding, Katie accepted her offer. Somehow she liked this woman. She was so friendly and warm.

"Okay, then I'll bring your tea upstairs as soon as it's ready" she smiled and disappeared back into her flat.

"Yes Katie, this is our landlady Mrs Hudson but very important, she is not our housekeeper. So she says but she brings us tea every day anyway".

Now John had to laugh but Katie didn't really understand why. But not to disappoint him, because he had apparently just made a joke, she finally grinned at him.

"Okay, let's go" he said and slowly pulled her with him.

But suddenly Katie stopped abruptly on the stairs and listened. Music. Someone was playing a violin with a lot of feeling. John, who had seen Katie's questioning look:

"This is Sherlock. He plays his violin day and night."

Katie nodded understandably and then went on upstairs. In a moment she would meet this Sherlock. She was a little nervous. According to the hospital staff, a dark-haired, tall man had brought her to the emergency room. And since John and this Sherlock were probably the only ones who knew her, it had to be this Sherlock.

Slightly nervous, she increased the pressure on John's arm.

"Never fear. Sherlock is a bit... especially in a certain way but secretly a nice person," he smiled encouragingly to her.

"You can come in and you don't have to talk about me outside the door," it now came from the room behind the door.

John just rolled his eyes and sighed before pulling Katie with him and opening the front door.

"So this is our flat. And he, over there by the window, that's Sherlock," pointing to the tall, dark-haired man.

"You took me to the hospital yesterday, didn't you?" she asked.

Sherlock, still busy with his violin, paused briefly before, without turning away from the window, he replied, "Good afternoon, Ms Wilson".

"Did you just play here?" she asked curiously.

"Obviously"

"It sounded beautiful but also somehow... sad. Are you sad about something or someone?"

"Bullshit. I'm never sad." while his look said something else.

Of course he felt this feeling. He was sad that he couldn't help her. He was sad that she had lost the last of her family and was now all alone. And he was sad that she did not remember him. Well, maybe the last one was a stroke of luck too. Had she also forgotten how much he had hurt her with his words. For some weeks now, feelings had suddenly been overwhelming him, feelings he couldn't deal with and that only because of the company of John and her.

"Somehow I don't believe you...but what do I know. But I thank you for letting me stay here for now," she finally said.

Sherlock glanced only briefly over his side in her direction.

'I think you know exactly,' he thought, but finally just said:

"This was John's idea. Thank him for it!"

Then he turned back to his violin playing.

At the same moment Mrs Hudson came in with her tea.

"Yoo-hoo, I'm bringing the tea in here", rattling the tray.

John immediately took it from her and gave Katie a cup as well. Then Mrs Hudson turned to her again and asked curiously:

"And have you met Sherlock? Don't blame him for what he says. Basically, he's a nice guy," and nudged Katie lightly with his elbow in the side.

She must smile immediately. John had to smile too.

Only Sherlock was annoyed once again.

"Mrs Hudson, don't you have some shopping to do or something?" he almost shouted.

The elderly woman, slightly angry at his outburst, said goodbye to Katie and John with a slight roll of her eyes.

"You are welcome to sit down," John offered her, pointing to the couch. Gratefully and with her tea in her hand, she finally let herself fall onto the couch.

"Oh, and you would sleep in my room while I sleep on the couch".

"That is not necessary. I don't want to cause any trouble. The couch is perfectly adequate for me" she smiled at him.

"Oh it's no trouble, that's all right," he replied.

"Just make up your minds now. You can't even listen to this," an annoyed Sherlock raised his voice and moved towards the kitchen.

With an apologetic look at Katie he disappeared into the kitchen.

Somehow she amused them both. John was a really nice and caring man and Sherlock yes he was special.

"What was that all about?" angrily John stepped into the kitchen.

"What do you think?"

"Well, you, your whole behaviour! You didn't even look at her when she asked you a question. And then your comment, that would be my idea, that she should thank me," he twisted his eyes in annoyance as he sat down on the chair opposite his friend.

"Why, it was your idea after all. Why should she thank me for it then?" The dark-haired man didn't understand what John wanted from him now.

"Sherlock" the blonde leaned over the table "she just watched her brother, the last of her family, die (he whispered) and she can't remember anything about it. I thought you liked her?"

Visibly amazed at this phrase, Sherlock tore his eyes open.

"Like...What?"

"You don't have to be a master detective like Sherlock Holmes to realise that. The way you always look at her and the way you behave after she's told you what she thinks, speaks volumes. Now, just be a bit less of an ass and have a chat with her," he said and pushed him decisively out of the kitchen.

But when he entered the living room and his gaze fell on the couch, he had to realise that she was already asleep. Smiling, his gaze rested on the sleeping person on the furniture before he went to her, threw a blanket over her and pushed a pillow under her head. He gently brushed her hair, which fell into her face, aside. For a short time he still held his hand against her cheek. Then he turned away from her and withdrew to his bedroom.