TheDarkestShinobi: Sherlock unwilling makes a new friend.

Lestrade has another case for him, this one within walking distance from Baker street. From the text and picture Lestrade sent it looks like an eight, so he can spare some time for it. He has made little to no progress on John by himself and Lestrade's hands a metaphorically tied. Sherlock reviews the scene from the roof once more in his mind as he continued to walk

"Hi!" Sherlock doesn't pay attention to the owner of the voice as he walks past her. She is undeterred and starts following him down the sidewalk. "Mr. Sherlock Holmes, right?" He glances at her from the corner of his eye before looking forward again.

"Busy." He bites out as he starts to cross the street; she runs a few paces to keep up with his long stride.

"Right," she lets out a laugh and he rolls his eyes. "Uh, my name's Susan."

"Yes. Susan Doyle,"

"Ah! You remember?" She seems pleased. He turns the corner.

"Haven't deleted you yet." He starts towards the yellow police tape and she grabs his arm. He turns towards her with a scathing look and she lets him go.

"I just wanted to thank you is all," it wasn't, he could tell from her lipstick and the wrinkle in her sleeve that she was nervous, well not the lipstick but the fact that it was on her teeth. That and her walk; she kept trying to match his steps and his pace alternatively. He is reminded of Molly, but this woman would have years before they could be considered equals. "and I was wondering if you would like to" but he's not listening, already ducking under the yellow tape and wondering if a row with Donavan was avoidable. Of course not.

"So that's how it goes, lose one and pick up another." She shakes her head. "I can't believe you." She turns her attention to Susan, "You with 'im?"

"Yes," she replies with haste as he lets out a resonating

"No," and continues into the building.

Sally watches him go up the stairs and turns to the woman still waiting.

"He'll be awhile." She admits and the other nods and makes no motion to leave. Sally looks way before pursing her lips and turning to face the other fully.

"Who are you?"

"Uh-Susan," she's nervous, but truthful, "Susan Doyle" she introduces as she extends a hand.

"Sargent Sally Donavan," she shakes the hand with her own, noting the weak handshake.

"What's your relation to Sherlock?" she continues as she crosses her hands and leans on her right leg. Susan pulls her lip with her teeth before answering.

"He saved my life, I was the-Have you heard of the bride collector?" Sally lets out a breath with a nod and Susan blinks, naked in front of him once again. His eyes raked across her body before the Detective Inspector handed her his coat. She hasn't been able to stop thinking about him. God sent him to her to save her from the devil. She smiled softly. "I was the one on the table when he barged in. He saved my life."

"He does that." She grudgingly admits as if she's forgotten. It's not why he does what he does, but he does do it. Susan knows this, he and John went around solving crimes and saving lives until they had a fallout; it was all over the papers, that and John's blog. The fallout ended with John death, an accidental overdose on medication.

"I know you think he saved your life, he's someone valiant or something. But stay away from Sherlock Holmes." She warns; her tone dropping. She had to get this one away. She blinks to see John.

"Why?" She asks, confused, who would ever want to stay away from him?

"He's a psychopath." She remembers the vomit, the body of a great man in pain. "He gets off on these crimes, any crime." Susan doesn't look deterred. "His best friend committed suicide because of him." Susan blinks twice before swallowing, not an accident then. "And Sherlock stood over the body to inspect it, said it was brilliant and didn't even go to the funeral."

Susan didn't look like she was leaving any time soon. She could understand pain from someone else's suicide. Her brother took his own life a while ago; she still wore the necklace he made her to remember him, not like she could forget.

"I'd say this wouldn't be enough for him, that one day we'd be standing around a body and Sherlock will be the one to have put it there but I've already stood at a dead body he's caused."

Susan looks away from Sally and remembers the way his coat flutters behind him, the look of rage in his eye as they spoke of Moriarty, she doesn't remember what they were talking about, the doctors say it's because of her shock, but she knows it was because of her.

"I don't care," she finally resolves, "I've seen him, the real him and he's not the monster you're making him out to be." There is adoration in her eyes, and Donavan narrows her own.

"Right." Sally slowly agrees as something clicking into place; she'd have to tell Lestrade to keep an eye on this one.

"Not even a 6" Sherlock mutters under his breath as he passes the two of them on his way out. Anderson comes out the door later shaking his head and pulling off his gloves while Lestrade makes a phone call and Sally watches Susan chase after Sherlock.

"Tell me about your friend." Susan asks as she catches up to Sherlock. He glances at her again and lets out a sigh, and she wonders briefly how no one can see what these cases do to him. She'd like to give him a massage, help ease his pain. There must be so much, especially if his best friend really committed suicide.

"Why would I do that?" He opens the door to Angelo's and walks in without holding the door open for her. She is still trailing after him.

"No reason." She answers with a shrug

"You already know. You read the papers, Donavan told you." His voice is low and controlled, but barely. "He died." He didn't die; he went to Moriarty, to Jim. She watches him, such anger and pain. She wants to caress his face but she doesn't know if he'd allow it. The conversation ends as Angelo approaches them. Sherlock looks up as Angelo walks over to them, he looks upset.

"It's been almost a week Sherlock; tell me you're eating, please." Sherlock doesn't answer, instead handing Angelo the menu. "The usual." Angelo nods, before looking over to the other, Sherlock can read the question in his mind but Angelo knows better than to ask about John, he learned that the first time Sherlock came in here without him.

"And you?"

"Can I have a minute?" she asks picking it up and glancing at Sherlock; has he not been eating?

"Shall I bring a candle? It's more romantic for your date."

"Oh, yes please" Susan gushes but Sherlock's face twitches as he remembers 'I'm not his date' and snaps.

"It's not a date." Susan looks crushed, Sherlock doesn't care. Angelo retreats.

"Quite rude, inviting yourself to lunch with a stranger." He stares out the window as he curses himself for not eating yesterday so he had to today. That was his goal, take care of himself the way John would. John would see that. When this mess was over, he'd appreciate it.

"What better way to get to know a stranger," her pupils are dilated, breathing rate increased. He'd bet her pulse also was. "After all, it's such as shame that we know nothing about each other." He let a side of his mouth quirk up. "You disagree?"

"I know you're pilot and a smoker although you've quit since moving to London. You moved here after you mother died and have started taking martial arts class, MMA to be specific."

"Wow" she breathed as he continued.

"I know your father beat your brothers and you wished he beat you, although you did get your fair share of abuse, with his sexual assaults, and that is the reason you broke off your engagement last year." She doesn't want to remember that, or be reminded of that, but she knows he's hurt and lashing out when you're hurt is normal.

"That was amazing." She says and he pauses for a second before looking away. Her poor baby, can no one else see he's hurting?

Of course it was. It was extraordinary, quiet extraordinary.

There's only one thing for it. She has to fix him; she has to replace John Watson.