I have only had the time to read this through twice, so if spelling/punctuation mistakes are worse, I am sorry.

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I don't own, only Emily.

Emily had taken up the spot in front of her window, watching and waiting for John to return. She was fairly sure her lip was bleeding as she had been biting it since she had slammed her bedroom door shut behind her as soon as she had entered.

She had thrown Sherlock's phone on his chair, not wanting to give him a reason to come upstairs and bother her. She didn't particularly want to be near him right now. Did John really mean so little to him that he would just leave him behind like that? Maybe she should have grabbed onto his hand, ensuring he would have got away with them. Maybe she should have attempted to stay behind with John. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. There was no point in thinking of what she should have done. It wasn't as if she could turn back time and change things. Of that Emily was certain, or she would have done it a long time ago.

The front door slamming, bought her out of her thoughts. Mrs Hudson was already in, and even if she hadn't been there was no chance she would slam her door like that. Not unless Sherlock had done something completely terrible to her. There was also no sign of Sherlock stepping into a taxi. It could only be John.

She quickly made her way downstairs, and came to an abrupt halt in the doorway to the front room.

"You've been a while." Sherlock hadn't even bothered to turn around or look up from the book in his hands.

"Brilliant deduction there." Emily mumbled to the room. But, thankfully, no one heard. John looked thoroughly pissed. There was no other way to describe him. His usual almost relaxed posture was replaced with rigid shoulders and tightly clenched fists.

"Yeah, well, you know how it is. Custody sergeants don't really like to be hurried, do they?" His tone was as tight as his clenched fists and it seemed as if he was barely controlling his anger. A half smile half grimace was currently his facial expression of choice.

"Just formalities: fingerprints, charge sheet; and I've gotta be in Magistrates Court on Tuesday."

"Oh god John I'm so sorry." Emily spoke up now, not able to contain her words any longer.

John, hearing just how sincere her words were, nodded to her, but didn't take his focus off the Consulting Detective, who still hadn't turned round.

"Sherlock are you listening?" Emily asked from her position.

"What?" He clearly hadn't heard a word.

Apparently this was more than John could take. Finally allowing an angry tone to take over completely he continued on. "Me, Sherlock, in court on Tuesday. They're givin' me an ASBO!"

"Good. Fine." Sherlock still paid him no mind. John turned to look at Emily, a disbelieving look adorned his face.

"I don't know why you're bothering John."

"Do you know Emily, I don't either." But he turned his gaze back to Sherlock and tried none the less. "You wanna tell your little pal he's welcome to go and own up any time." The tight tone was back.

"This symbol: I still can't place it." Emily shook her head at the tall mans words. If only it was as easy for her to tune out everyone else's conversations. She would certainly use that skill when Sherlock talked to her. He had finally shut his book and put it down on the table next to John's chair. John who had started taking his jacket off wasn't exactly happy when Sherlock pulled it back onto his shoulders.

"No, I need you to go to the police station..." John was attempting to protest but only succeeded in being ignored. "...ask about the journalist. Take her with you." Here, Sherlock pointed to Emily but didn't bother to look at her, instead grabbed his coat from the back of the door.

"Her? Who is this her you speak of?" Emily asked, her fury from the earlier taxi ride returning with a vengeance. But again, Sherlock ignored her.

"His personal effects will have been impounded. Get hold of his diary, or something that will tell us his movements." He moved past the pair and made his way downstairs.

"How come you already have your coat on?" John asked Emily as he indicated for her to go first, sounding a lot calmer than he had done moments before.

"I didn't take it off from our previous adventure." She answered as she slowly followed Sherlock. "I forgot all about it. Too worried about you."

"Really?" John sounded surprised and paused in his decent of the stairs.

"Always the tone of surprise." Emily mumbled.

"So then how come you ran off?"

"I didn't exactly have much of a choice, Sherlock was dragging me behind him." John couldn't help but smirk. "That taxi ride back here wasn't the most pleasant." John smirked. He had a pretty good idea why, but he had to know for certain.

"Any why would that be?" He tried to hide his amusement but the smile he received from Emily told him he had failed.

"I gave him a piece of my mind."

"Is that why he's referring to you as 'her'?"

"Probably." She replied as she reached the hallway.

"That's my girl." She beamed as they reached Sherlock, who curiously, had been waiting by the front door for them. "So if we're going to the Police station, where are you going?" He questioned Sherlock as he opened the front door and exited the building.

"Gonna go and see Van Coon's P.A. If we retrace their steps, somewhere they'll coincide." Without so much as a goodbye, he turned right and left them standing on the pavement. Emily still hadn't looked at Sherlock and Sherlock still hadn't looked at Emily. To John, it really did feel like he was living with a couple of five years olds sometimes. He hailed a taxi and allowed Emily to climb in before him.

"Scotland yard." He informed the driver and climbed in next to her. He smiled when she thanked him for being a gentleman, but his gaze turned from her to the other side of the road.

"What's wrong?" Emily questioned as she to, spun round to look in the direction he was facing.

"Did you see that woman?"

"What woman?" Emily flicked her eyes over every inch of pavement she could see. But there was no woman seemingly walking away from them.

"Never mind." John faced the front again. "So what was it you said to Sherlock exactly?" Emily rolled her eyes, but couldn't keep the smirk off her face as she began tell the man beside her everything she had said to the Consulting Detective, careful not to miss anything out.

The pair had arrived at Scotland Yard, John impressed by the story Emily had told him during the journey and feeling touched that she would speak like that. But the subject had quickly changed when they had found Dimmock's desk and the D.I. in question sat behind it.

Coming to a stop on the other side of the desk, Dimmock had rolled his eyes. Quite frankly, Emily couldn't blame him. But upon noticing that Sherlock wasn't with them, or about to appear round the corner any time soon, Dimmock had seemingly relaxed. Apparently he was a lot more comfortable when the Consulting Detective wasn't around. Again, Emily couldn't blame him. Even after weeks of living with the man, there were still times when she felt uncomfortable around him. (The memory of Sherlock walking into the bathroom when she had nothing but a towel on and being confused about why she was blushing so furiously was still fresh in her mind. She had not been able to look him in the eye for days and when she eventually had he had informed her she had nothing to be embarrassed about, her figure was rather easy on the eyes. This had caused her even more unease, confusion, and John almost chocking on his toast.)

John had told the man before them what it was they had visited for, and the air was thick with awkward silence as Dimmock rummaged through the box that contained the possessions of Brian Lukis. It was a silence that was broken by the D.I..

"Your friend..." He was interrupted by John.

"Listen: whatever you say, I'm behind you one hundred percent."

"Me too." Emily added on quickly.

"... he's an arrogant sod." Emily sniggered at the D.I.'s choice of words.

"Well, that was mild! People say a lot worse than that."

"By people he means mainly us." She paused, as did Dimmock who looked up at her to hear what she was going to say. "Actually...pretty much everyone." Though what she said about him was usually only said in anger. She was determined never to turn into Donovan and call him names whenever she felt like it.

A ghost of a smile crossed Dimmock's lips at her words, understanding her words. None of them had time to utter another word however as the diary was held out to them.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it? The journalist's diary?" John began to flick through it, opening it at a page bookmarked with a boarding pass. "Anything else?" Dimmock turned his attention to the blonde on the other side of the desk.

"I think that was it. Thank you."

"No problem." Dimmock replied. "Where is your friend anyway?"

"God knows, but-"

"Come on Em." John interrupted her. "Sorry, but we have to go." The diary was now safe in his pocket. "Thank you." He added in after thought to the D.I. before turning and leaving, almost as rudely as Sherlock.

Emily meekly shrugged her shoulders and begun to slowly walk backwards. "I'm sure we'll meet again." She waved and turned, careful to avoid the other desks and followed after John who was waiting for her on the other side of the room.

"Of that I have no doubt." Dimmock mumbled as he watched the pair leave and wondered why Sherlock Holmes couldn't be as polite as her.

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