Sorry for any spelling/punctuation mistakes I have probably made and failed to correct. I don't own, only Emily.

MidnightTheif15: I just thought it would be a good twist to the story. I don't know if this next bit answers your question as well but, I never said I wouldn't have any Jim/Emily moments. I hope that answers your question?

Also... OH MY GOD! THE EMPTY HEARSE AND THE SIGN OF THREE! IF ANY OF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IT YET YOU ARE IN FOR A TREAT! MAKE SURE YOU HAVE TISSUES AND SHOCK BLANKETS AT THE READY!

*Takes a deep breath* Anyway...

She tied her dressing gown together as she made her way down the stairs. Her hair was a mess of knots and tangles and she had to rearrange her pyjama shorts, but she was more concerned about the banging coming from the living room. Normally, Sherlock made his racket in the kitchen, the place where he conducted all his experiments and refused to tidy up the kitchen table.

With each bag and grunt she heard, she got a little more worried.

It wasn't until she was standing on the bottom step, a position that allowed her to look directly into the living room, that she realised she should have stayed in bed.

She had just had the briefest glimpse of Sherlock as he darted backwards towards the settee. It wasn't that which had shocked her however. It was the heavily robed figure that followed her flat mate with a curved sword. She stood motionless for a moment, wondering why she had wanted to move here in the first place when the robed figure was pushed backwards. She quickly snapped to her sense and rushed towards the doorway, just in time to watch as Sherlock readjusted his suit jacket. He didn't even notice her.

The fight promptly regained interest only when the figure was pressing Sherlock down against the kitchen table with the edge of his blade. As Emily watched from the doorway of the kitchen, she realised she should probably do something, but the only thing she could think of could possibly injure Sherlock if she wasn't careful. She reasoned that the Consulting Detective could handle himself. After all, he had managed to survive that cabbie driver before she and John had turned up.

It took Sherlock a couple of tries, but with a few knees to the man's side, he managed to get up again, but not before a scratch was left on the table that Emily was sure John would notice the moment he set foot in the kitchen.

She quickly made her way into the living room, carefully avoiding the fight and making her way towards Sherlock's chair. She sat down and placed her feet on the edge of the seat, her chin resting on her knees, as the pair casually got closer and closer to her. It was only then that Sherlock noticed her. She smiled cheekily at him as he ducked to avoid the swing of the weapon. And only then, did Emily take her opportunity. She tapped the assailant on the back and waited a few seconds for him to turn around. She met his gaze and smiled up at him. When his eyes crinkled at the corners in a way that told her he was smiling back at her, she had to guess as they were the only part of him that she could actually see underneath all those robes, she took her chance. With her right foot, she kicked out, catching him right in his goolies. As he crouched down in agony, she took a swing at his chin, and effectively knocked him unconscious. She knew she could punch, but she had never known she could hit that powerfully.

Her face took on a disgusted look as his head landed face first onto her lap. She gently pushed him off her and allowed his body to fall unceremoniously to the floor.

She rolled her eyes as Sherlock once more adjusted his jacket and cuffs with the aid of his reflection, dusting his shoulders off as if they had got dirty. With one last disdainful look at the man on the floor, he turned to Emily.

"Where did you learn that?" He asked her, he sounded genuinely curious.

"Learn what?" She replied taking a fake interest in her nails.

"That." Sherlock waved a hand at the man on the floor. "How to punch lie that."

"You're forgetting I have a brother." She told him as she took her gaze from her nails and looked up at him from under her lashes.

"So?" Sherlock noticed that her robe had come undone and was eyeing her choice of sleep wear with interest; a plain black t shirt and a pair of purple shorts.

"So, he taught me a thing or two about how to look after myself." She answered and pulled her robe together when she noticed where his focus was.

"I could have handled him myself. I was more than capable. I am always more than capable." His sharp blue eyes met hers in an annoyed glare.

"Really?" She sighed and took on a tone that let him know she didn't believe him for a second.

"Yes really. And shouldn't you be getting dressed? Apparently you're getting cold." With an annoyed grunt she stood form the chair and pulled her robe even tighter around herself as she marched to the doorway.

"That's not what it looked like to me. You had a sword held against your throat with your back against the table." She told him over her shoulder. "What are you going to do with him anyway?" She spun back around to face the living room and leaned against the doorway.

"We should put him in a taxi. Send him somewhe-"

"We?" She spoke up from her position and crossed her arms.

"Yes we." He informed her as if it should have been obvious.

"What we? You're more than capable."

"I can't drag someone down the stairs by myself-"

"In case you hurt yourself?"

"No. I'd look a bit silly carrying an unconscious man down the stairs by myself don't you think?" But she didn't have time to argue. "Now, you grab his ankles ad I'll hold him by the armpits."

"But I need to get dressed for work."

"If you had time to have a lie in that long, and time to kick a man where it hurts the most, then you have time to help me carry him down the stairs and outside to a taxi. Besides, if I don't manage to hail a cab, you could always stick one of your legs out into the road, that might stop every vehicle." Was Sherlock Holmes saying that she had nice legs? She didn't have time to ask however as Sherlock was standing in front of her now. He pushed her chin up, effectively closing her mouth. "Close your mouth, you'll catch flies." His deep voice enlightened her. She was sure that if she was touching his chest, she would feel the rumble of that voice. "Now. Ankles?" He briskly turned away from her and stepped over to the man. But she couldn't move. "Sometime today would be good Emily." She snapped her head to the left to see Sherlock already gripping the man by the armpits, ready to move him down the stairs. She shook her head and moved to the mans ankles, her robe showing Sherlock her pyjamas again.

It was a little bit of effort that the pair carried the unconscious man down the stairs and out of the front door. Sherlock had taken most of the weight by carrying the upper half. Something Emily was rather grateful for. Yes, she could pack a punch, but she couldn't lift anything heavy to save her life. She never had been able to.

Thankfully, Emily didn't have to bother sticking a leg out into the road, Sherlock managed to hail one with ease. Once the assailant had been bundled into the back, Sherlock paid a handsome fee to the driver. But Emily didn't hear where he would be driven to.

The pair stood next to each other and watched as the cab drove away. There was a moment of silence before Sherlock spoke again.

"I really think you should be getting dressed now." He looked down at her from his height. "Or at least tie your robe up." She looked around her at the people walking on the other side of the road, behind her at the people sitting outside the café next door. They were both getting odd stares and one man had nearly tripped over the pavement looking at Emily.

With a roll of her eyes, she twisted on the spot and made her way back into the building, quickly followed by Sherlock. She hadn't bothered to put shoes on for her short excursion outside, and now that she was back in the warm, she regretted it immensely.

It didn't take her long to dress for work and tie her hair up, she had been doing so ever since Sherlock had advised her of it, and make her way back downstairs.

"I'm off." She declared to the cover of whatever book Sherlock was currently reading.

"Mmm." He mumbled to her without lowering it.

"Don't wait up." She took her coat from the door.

"Mmm."

"Sherlock, I was thinking of throwing a rave in your bedroom. Would you mind?"

"Mmm." With a smile she shook her head and descended the stairs once more, wondering what delights would be awaiting her in her office today.

What did anyone think of the new episodes?
PLEASE review? I love them dearly. But please don't post spoilers in them just in case anyone who hasn't seen the episodes does read them.

Believe In Sherlock (#Sherlocklives.)

FB