The next morning was almost the same as every other morning on Baker Street: John was on his blog, Sherlock lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling blankly. But there was a quirk in the normal routine, because Lara was there, sitting in Sherlock's chair drinking tea. John seemed a little stiff while typing, likely because he was a bit uncomfortable sharing his flat with a fifteen year old girl. Sherlock seemed fine, more than fine, he had actually said good morning and asked John and Lara how they slept. They knew something was up, Sherlock never made small talk. John left for work around nine, and at eleven, Lara announced she was going out.

"Alright, I'm going out, I'll be back soon," she said. Sherlock immediately sat up.

"Where are you going?"

"I told you, out."

With that, she stood up and walked out the door, closing it lightly behind her. Sherlock ran to his room and put some decent clothes on; he was not passing up an opportunity to learn more about Lara. Tying his beloved blue scarf around his neck, he ran out the door, yelling goodbye to Mrs. Hudson on the way out.

Lara continued down Baker Street, somewhat hurriedly. It was a bit windy out, and her short hair kept getting into her eyes. She wondered if Sherlock would follow her, then thought, If he knows what's best for him, he'll stay at the flat. She picked up her pace, and turned left onto George Street, then right onto Manchester Street. Walking into Manchester Square, she scanned the trees for the one marked with an A.

Sherlock had followed Lara from a distance, and knew almost immediately where she was headed. He took a different route to the square, not wanting to be seen by Lara. He snuck into the park and hid behind a tree- Not very creative, he thought- watching the young Adler from a distance. He saw her bend over by another tree, and he squinted his eyes to better see what she was doing.

Lara bent over, and dug around in the dirt until she found it. A little brown box. She opened it and took out the mobile phone inside, then punched in the numbers she knew so well. The phone didn't ring long before the receiver picked up.

"Hello?"

"Yeah, it's me. I'm in," Lara said.

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Positive."

"Make sure you don't get too attached." The voice said, quite sternly.

"Of course. But I am going to be here awhile…"

"That doesn't matter. You are there to watch him, and protect if necessary. Nothing else."

"But-"

"Besides, he is quite a bit older than you. And romantically involved with John, yes?" It was not a question.

"I'm not interested in him like that, but I don't think they're toge-"

"Goodbye, Ms. Adler. Do your job, would you?" The person on the other end hung up. Lara sighed and put the phone back in the box. She put the box back in the ground and covered it. Humming a melancholy song to herself, she walked over to a park bench and sat down, taking out a small journal. Opening it, she took out a small, stubby pencil. She began to write:

May 13, 2012

Last night was my first night in Sherlock and John's flat. Sherlock let me sleep in his bedroom, but I didn't actually sleep at all. Though I have to trust him, it'll be awhile before I sleep around him. John has been alright, very stiff and orderly. He also seems to have a small obsession with jumpers (haha). Sherlock is… Oh, what is Sherlock? I can't tell. He seems so rude and arrogant on the outside, but he's been kinder to me than anyone… Besides Irene of course! (Love my sister, haven't heard from her in a while…)

Sherlock got me to sing last night, and I don't. Know. How. You know I've never sung for anyone, that's been a secret between you and me, but Sherlock, I don't know, when I'm around him, I feel safe, and like I can tell him anything. I don't know. It's a stupid feeling, and could be problematic if it interferes with my job… STOP FEELING THESE FEELINGS, LARA! Ugh… I just needed to let it out… I'm very tired, so I'll take a quick nap while I'm alone.

Until next time, diary,

Lara Adler

Sherlock watched in fascination as the tough as nails teen wrote in a diary. He honestly did not see it coming, but understood. Someone who is/was abused will obviously keep a journal; if no one listens to their feelings, it is often the only way they can get it all out. He wondered how bad it could have been at home for her to have left so young. He kept watching as she put the journal and pencil back in her coat pocket, and stretch out on the bench. He watched her close her eyes and quickly fall asleep. After letting her sleep for a few minutes, he walked up to her, debating whether or not to take a peek in her most private thoughts. I don't need them to figure her out, he thought. Hesitating again, he shook her awake.

"Nughh… Stop, Dad, stop it!"

"It's Sherlock."

"Wha-?" Lara quickly opened her eyes and sat up.

"Hello." Sherlock gave one of his sexy half smiles (that John secretly loved) and had a twinkle in his eye.

"What are you doing here? Did you follow me?" Lara had gone from confused and sleepy-eyed to angry and wide-eyed.

"I was walking to the shop when I decided to cut through here. I saw you sleeping here, and thought you'd fallen asleep accidentally; I'd hate to see you get mugged."

"Uh, yeah right."

Sherlock held his hands up. "It's the truth! Care to join me?"

Lara looked at him sternly for a moment, and then got up. "Yeah, sure."

As they walked silently toward the shop, Lara turned her head slightly to get a better look at Sherlock, hoping he wouldn't notice. She kept looking until Sherlock suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders and jerked her to the right.

"Ow! What was that for?" Lara seemed more confused than angry.

"You almost ran into a tree; you weren't looking where you were going." Sherlock spoke like nothing had happened, but he wore another small smile. Lara felt her cheeks turning pink, he had caught her looking at him. And while she wasn't looking at him in that way, it was still embarrassing.

They arrived at the shop and Sherlock picked up a carton of milk. He then pulled out the exact amount of change necessary for it, and laid it on the counter. Not waiting for the cashier to take it, he laced his arm through Lara's and walked out the door with her. As soon as they were out of the shop, though, Lara yanked her arm away.

"What was that?" She hissed.

"Is that not the way a man walks with a woman?" Sherlock looked confused, and somewhat hurt. Lara stopped walking and slapped a hand to her face.

"Oh my God, Sherlock, you're like, twice my age."

"Why, that's insulting. I'm twenty-seven."

"Oh my Goddd... Sherlock, that's how you walk with a woman your age. I am not your age."

"Oh. My apologies."

"No, no. It's fine, you didn't know, I guess..."

Lara started walking again, and Sherlock silently joined her. Lara realised that while Sherlock was a genius, he had no idea how to act around people other than the few that accepted him: John, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, and Mycroft. And Irene, she thought. Then she smiled. And myself. I think...

Sherlock was confused, very confused. Almost as much as he was with Irene. What is going on, who is Lara, who is behind her actions, what will I do about Moriarty? His head was full of questions, and explanations. It was a puzzle that he knew how to put together, he was simply missing a few of the pieces.