'Oh Hello Emily dear, how are you settling in?'

It was Friday night and Emily had just arrived home from minding Sophia. Mrs Hudson was coming out of her flat with an armful of clothes.

'Great Mrs Hudson, thanks for letting me move in, the flat is so cosy, I love it already! Can I give you a hand with those?' Emily gestured towards the clothes Mrs Hudson held.

'Oh would you be a love and take these up to the boys? With my hip, the stairs can be a bit of a hassle. It's a couple of Sherlock's shirts that needed stitching. All that running about, getting tears in them, if I didn't help sew them up, they'd spend a fortune on new ones!'

Emily laughed, 'Of course, give them here, I'll run them up. Is John in do you know?'

'Oh I think I heard him say he was going out to do a bit of shopping. Sherlock should be in though. Thank you so much dear.'

Mrs Hudson went back into her flat and closed the door. Emily sighed, she supposed she would have had to get this over with at some point, talking to Sherlock. She walked up the stairs with the shirts.

Walking into the living room, she was startled by the sound of a bang in the kitchen.

'Hello?'

Nothing.

'Sherlock? It's Emily, Mrs Hudson asked me to drop your shirts up.'

Sherlock walked out of the kitchen covered in purple dust wearing a pair of safety glasses. He walked right past her to the open laptop on the desk and started typing.

'I'll just put them here shall I?' Emily set the shirts on the sofa. Sherlock was still typing on the laptop. Frowning, she turned to walk out. 'Ok, bye!'

'Can I borrow your mobile.'

Emily turned round, Sherlock was still looking at the laptop.

'Im sorry, my mobile?'

'Yes, your mobile, mine is in the kitchen and I need to send a text.'

'Umm, can you not just get up and go get it?'

Sherlock ignored her. She walked into the kitchen and started at the sight of the kitchen covered in purple dust. Spotting the mobile on the worktop, she picked it up and wiped some of the dust off it. She walked back into the living room and held the mobile out to Sherlock. He held out his hand, flat palm facing upwards, still not looking at her. Frowning again she placed the mobile in his hand.

'Lazy much?' She shook her head and turned to walk out.

'You're not John.'

Turning round again, Emily look at Sherlock incredulously. He was finally looking at her with a slight perplexed look on his face.

'Seriously!' Emily asked with a shocked laugh. 'What gave it away, was it the long hair or the feminine voice? I thought John said you were supposed to be smart.'

Sherlock narrowed his eyes slightly as they skipped over her, taking everything in. Emily took a step back, not sure that she liked it.

'You're just back from look after a six year old girl called Sophia. Who apparently likes pink ponies and doctor who. She gave you a make-over which you wiped away before leaving the house. You are going to go back to your flat and finish drinking the bottle of…rose wine that you started last night before you fell asleep on the sofa with your music playing. Smart enough for you?' Sherlock turned back to the laptop.

'Right, seriously, how'd you work that out now?'

Sherlock rolled his eyes, 'Boring, and so easy. You have two stickers still attached to your top, one with a pink pony and one with a police box. You have a smudge of makeup just below your ear that you missed while wiping the rest off. As for the wine, the slight bags under your bloodshot eyes show the effects of drinking, your posture shows you didn't sleep in a bed and I heard your music through the walls when I came in late last night.'

Emily stared at him with her mouth open. Would she ever get used to that? 'And how did you know it was a six year old called Sophia and that it was rose wine? Though I suppose John told you about Sophia.'

'If John mentioned your work, I'm positive I was doing something more productive with my time than listening to him gossiping about you. You did however spill something on the girl's homework and put your hand on the damp page. There is a mirror image of 'Sophia Kells, Age 6' imprinted on your hand where the ink has smudged off. As for the wine, I found the receipt outside.'

Emily continued to stare. How in the world did he manage that. He had only looked at her for all of ten seconds before telling her all of that.

'Ok, it's kind of freaking me out how you do that. Tell me something else.'

'Something else?'

'Yea, deduce me, show off a bit, John says you like to do that.' She grinned.

'I don't show off!'

'Ok, ok, it's fine if you can't figure me out.' Emily knew from John's talk of him that Sherlock didn't like being told he wasn't as good as he was. 'I mean you can't know everything, and you certainly shouldn't be ashamed of not knowing the world rotates around the sun.' She bit her lip to stop from laughing.

'What! John told you that? I told him it's not important, I don't need to know that. Fine you want me to 'figure' you out? You have two jobs that involve children and animals, obviously you prefer working with them than other adults. Moving to London without having friends or family to move in with, you're running away from something back home. Which according to your accent is in Dorset. Could be you broke up with a boyfriend, but the looks you give to John mean you haven't been with anyone in a long time. So not a boyfriend, friends then, unlikely considering you keep a picture of them in a frame. That leaves family. No pictures of them and you're an only child, so you have fallen out with your mother or father and ran away to London. You haven't quite got used to the London style, you nails are too short and void of colour, as is your hair. You don't wear make-up as you feel you don't need to, you're comfortable with yourself. However after meeting John, you have taken to wearing perfume, which for some reason pleases him. That's enough for now I think.'

'Bloody hell.' Emily couldn't think of anything else to say at that moment.

'Did I get anything wrong.' Sherlock's question was more of a statement, implying he didn't think he did.

Emily shook her head to bring her out of the dazed state she was in, before a small smile flitted across her face. 'Oh only about half of it. And by the way how do you know about the picture of my friends?'

Sherlock looked up sharply. 'Half! How can I have got half wrong!'

'I'll tell you, when you tell me about the picture!'

'Fine, when you left your flat on the first morning when you literally ran into John, I saw it through your open door, there is a direct line of sight from there to your bedside table. Now tell me how I was wrong!'

'That's kinda creepy, the door was only open for a second. But ok, I don't have just two jobs, I have four, two of which deal with adults in an estate agents and an interior design studio. I did move to London without family and friends, but that was because I love London, wanted to do something different and the fast pace excites me, not because I'm running from something. You were right that I'm from Dorset, and that there was no boyfriend and I don't know if you're right about the apparent looks I give John. I am an only child, but I havent fallen out with my parents, they are alive and well and I text both of them regularly. I forgot to bring my pictures of them with me, though I do have some on my phone. Also if I was running away, then I wouldn't be planning on getting the ten thirty train tomorrow morning back down there to stay for the weekend would I!'

She glared triumphantly at him. Sherlock stood up and within a second was standing in front of her. He was taller than she first thought, and had to tilt her head to look up at him, refusing to break eye contact.

'Intriguing.' The word was like a whisper coming from his mouth. Emily had to strain to hear it.

'What is?' She asked.

Sherlock took a step back, looking her up and down.

'How can I not see it? There are no clues.' It seemed like he wasn't even talking to her anymore. He turned around, clasped his hands together and brought them up to his chin.

'Umm Sherlock, I'm going to go now. I left your shirts on the..'

'Who are you?' He spun around and grabbed her by the shoulders, his blue eyes staring into her green ones. Emily tensed.

'I…I..I'm Emily. What's wrong? Please let go!' She pushed his hands off her and took a step back.

'Well you've not been sent here to spy on us; your pupil dilation and tension are too real.'

'I have to go, tell John I said hi.'

With that Emily turned and practically ran out of the living room. At the bottom of the stairs she turned with her back against the wall breathing heavily. That had been… well weird! It wasn't like she thought he would hurt her, quite the opposite in fact. He just seemed frustrated. Frustrated about the fact he had got something wrong, which didn't make sense, everyone got things wrong. When he grabbed her and she was staring into those blue eyes, it was strange, mesmerising even. She let out a long breath. It had been a busy week, she just needed to relax.

She started as the front door opened. John came through carrying a Tesco bag. She left out another breathe. She was getting jumpy!

'Hi Em! What are you doing there?' John smiled as he realised who it was.

Emily liked the shortened version of her name, he had started using the second time they had coffee.

'Heya, I was just leaving some shirts upstairs that Mrs Hudson had fixed. Had an interesting experience with Sherlock though.'

'Ah! Still reeling?' He grinned apologetically.

'Just a bit, I know you warned me, but experiencing it first hand, that's something different!'

'Listen, do you fancy a drink? I know you're heading back home tomorrow, but we could grab a couple, doesn't have to be a late night.'

Emily smiled, 'Sounds good, ok, why don't you leave that shopping up and I'll go and change quickly, meet you back here in say, ten minutes?'

'Sounds like a plan. I'll see you shortly.'

John smiled at her as he headed on up the stairs. Emily turned and walked towards her flat. Looked like it was going to be a good night even with the shock of Sherlock!

So Emily had a bit more interaction with Sherlock in this one. Is he a bit too much for her? Let me know what you think. I always find it hard to get Sherlock's character just right, and his deductions, hats off to the BBC writers!