My apologies for the lack of updates. It got crazy-chaotic-busy at work and I haven't had much time to write anything. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock (or later on introduced, Criminal Minds). I do own Annalise, as well as Blakely and Cheyanne.

The two walked along the railway lines, both donning the high-vis jackets over their clothing, accompanied by the Tube guard that found the body of Andrew West.

"So this is where West was found?" John asked, as he and Anna looked around the area.

"Yeah."

Anna narrowed her eyes as she looked, her forensics side not liking what she saw—or didn't see.

"Uh-huh…" John frowned.

"You gonna be long?"

"We might be," replied John.

"You with the police?"

"Yes- is that a problem?" Anna asked, placing a hand on her hip in annoyance as she scowled at the guy.

"I hate 'em."

"Excuse me?" Anna questioned him, even more annoyed.

"The police?" John asked, hoping to keep Anna level-headed.

"No. Jumpers. People who chuck themselves in front of trains. Selfish bastards."

"Well, that's one way of looking at it," John frowned, looking away from the guard, watching as Anna knelt down closer to the railway track.

"I mean it. It's all right for them. It's over in a split second – strawberry jam all over the lines. What about the drivers, hmm? They've gotta live with it, haven't they?"

Having enough, Anna stood up—turning to face the guard.

"Oh—you poor things. Sure, dead bodies, the blood—it can be a bit much if you're not used to seeing such things. However," Anna pointed a finger at him, poking him in the chest," Don't you dare put this on the victims. Do you know what goes through their head as their contemplating jumping? Do you know what they're going through in life? Did you—or anyone—try to stop them? Take time out of your ever-so-busy life to check in with them, let them know they weren't alone and had someone that cared."

The guard seemed to pale a bit, stuttering out," W-well… I mean, no—"

"Then don't you dare turn this around into a pity party for you lot. The deceased are victims—and their families and loved ones they leave behind are victims. Not you lot. Sure, traumatic experience for you—but not a victim of anything. Now, Doctor Watson—I will be up that way when you are done with this… man."

Huffing out a breath of annoyance as she walked away, Anna kept her eyes on the track. There had to be more evidence than what was recorded.

"If West really did die here—there would be much more blood," Anna thought, kneeling down once again, barely aware that John was rejoining her.

"You alright?"

"Hmm?"

"Kind of went off a bit… sounded personal," John grimaced.

"Oh," Anna stood up, briefly sticking her tongue out to wet her lips before explaining," As a Forensics, I've seen actual suicides—I've seen how the families react when they're informed. And… there was this guy I knew, back when I first started Uni. Zachary"

For a moment, Anna stopped as she recalled her friend; some might label him a crush, if they didn't know any better.

"Three years older than myself at the time- happy go lucky, friendly as can be. If he saw someone struggling—in the class, yard, anywhere—he was there to help. Bullies, he didn't stand for; he'd have rows constantly with this one—Marcus. Terrible fellow, absolutely. Popular, athletic—rich, entitled kid, if you've ever seen one. A good foot and half taller than Zach, probably hundred pounds heavier—never stopped him though. Zach ended up in the medical bay more times than not after altercations. Anyway… About…. A year of knowing him—I, unfortunately, could tell something was wrong. Tried talking to him about it, but Zach just shrugged me off—saying it was just stress of the academics he was working on that semester. Two weeks later… he was found. Overdose."

"Sorry to hear," John frowned, gently placing one of his hands on my forearm in a caring moment.

"Learned later on… through not so legal matters… that he was close to losing his scholarship. All because of Marcus—his family, their connections they have. To top it all, his mum was in the Hospital, terminal illness—didn't have much time left. Zach was trying to do all he could, to make her proud, to help her—studying to become a doctor, to cure the cancer she had. Week after his death, his mum passed too."

"That's dreadful, absolutely… dreadful," John remarked sorrowfully.

"Tell me about it. He and I… we were close- you know?"

The look they shared upon that statement gave John a good idea of just how close, and as he gave her a curt nod they continued on.

"Right, then. Uh—any ideas here, then?"

"There's a significant lack of blood anywhere," Anna pointed out, looking down at the track as John called over to the tube guard.

"Has the track been cleaned off since finding the body?"

"No, there wasn't that much."

"Not that—?"

"You said his head was smashed in," John recalled, confused.

"Well, it was," the guard nodded," But there wasn't much blood."

"Okay—thanks."

The guard gave a shrug," Well, I'll leave you to it then. Just give us a shout when you're off."

"Right," Anna nodded as he left the two friends there to their work.

"How can he have his head smashed in but no mess of blood?" John questioned.

"There's only one way," Anna explained," He was killed elsewhere. Body dropped off here, making it look exactly as it does—like a suicide."

"Right. So, uh, Andrew West got on the train somewhere – or did he? There's no ticket on the body…. Then how'd he end up here?"

They looked around for a moment before the point beside him changed, the set of tracks sliding sideways into a new path. John squat down, looking at the tracks thoughtfully- before looking up at Anna.

"Points?"

"Points."

The two looked behind them and saw Sherlock standing nearby.

"Knew you'd get there eventually. West wasn't killed here; that's why there was so little blood," Sherlock pointed out.

"We figured out as much, thanks," Anna quipped, crossing her arms in front of her.

"How long have you been following me?" John asked him.

"Since the start. You don't think I'd give up on a case like this just to spite my brother, do you?"

"Honestly?" Anna asked, raising an eyebrow before sighing," I can not with the two of you. You and Mycroft—you're so mentally exhausting, I swear."

Sherlock said nothing in response, just turned on his heels and began to walk away.

"Come on. Got a bit of burglary to do."

John glanced from one Holmes to the other.

"Don't look at me. This is where I bow out," Anna held her hands up in surrender," Best of luck John."

"Thanks. Catch you later?"

"Of course."

0o0o0

Anna stood in the elevator, waiting to reach the detective's floor to give Dimmick his case results, when the door dinged as it opened. A young brunette eyed the Holmes cautiously before stepping on and standing in the back corner.

"She's nervous, mistrusting of others- stop it Annalise." Out of the corner of her eye, as the door closed, Anna saw the stranger start subconsciously chewing on one of her thumbnails, other arm crossed almost protectively in front of her.

"You going to a certain floor?"

"Hmm?" Her head snapped up, blue eyes widening as she looked at Anna in surprise, before looking to the number pad," Oh—uh. You… you know what floor… homicide is on?"

"American, from the accent…"

"Yeah- it's actually where I'm headed. Are you alright?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. No, I—I'm fine."

"Are you certain? It's safe to talk with me, I run forensics," Anna told her, the elevator coming to a stop, the doors sliding open slowly.

"I—I'm certain. Just—meeting someone here," the brunette explained, as the two walked off into the landing area.

"Alright, well- if you do ever need someone, here's my card. Don't hesitate to call me," Anna reached her hand out, her business card extended towards the girl," Name's Annalise—Annalise Holmes."

"T-thanks…"

"Cheyanne? Are you okay?!"

Anna looked to her right as Detective Lockwood hurried up to them. She almost seemed to cradle the younger one in her arms, arms latching on to the others.

"I-I'm fine. I just… Sorry. I shouldn't have—"

"No, Chey, it's fine. I'll just on my break, give me one sec, okay?"

Cheyanne gave a nod as Anna walked away from the area, heading over to DI Dimmicks desk with the result papers.

"Here you go. Hope you like miracles."

"Do I ever," he chuckled, instantly flipping through the sheets. Anna noticed Blakely walking back towards the elevator, before disappearing into it with the other girl—Cheyanne.

"Wonder if that's her sister…She mentioned having one…"

"—Best news ever. Thanks Holmes. You're the greatest."

"I try," Anna shrugged," I'm gonna head out on my break though- so, try not needing me for the next hour?"

"That's a tall order—we always need you."

"True," Anna laughed, before heading to the elevator herself, to go down to her floor; it came to a stop on the main floor—the doors sliding open to reveal—

"Jim?"

"Annie, just who I was hoping to find."

"You were looking for me? Everything okay?"

"Just fine," Jim smiled to her, a slightly mischievous glint in his eyes," I was hoping to take you to lunch, if you haven't already?"

He reached out and stopped the doors from sliding shut, forcing them to re-open.

"Perfect timing, actually. I was just getting ready to."

"Great, shall we?" He extended his hand to Anna, and after briefly chewing on her bottom lip, she reached out her own hand and accepted his invitation.

"You're going to spoil a girl if you keep all this up."

"Princesses deserve to be spoiled."