Until now, I haven't really thought about exactly when this story was set, but I've figured out it is after the Reichenbach Fall and Sherlock has been back for a while. I had a different plan for this chapter, but was having such a hard time writing it that I took a different approach, and it seems to be working a lot better. Hope you enjoy it! Please review :)

Emily yawned and looked at her watch; it showed her it was only 6 o'clock. She was exhausted already, though had promised a couple of friends she would head out for a drink with them.

It had been a busy day, after getting up early to catch the first train to Dorset. She had caught up with her parents before meeting her best friend Jules for coffee, which had morphed into lunch, then more coffee. When Emily and Jules started talking, it was hard to stop. She told her all about John and the kiss, to which Jules had suggested Emily introduce her to John, and also tried to explain about Sherlock. Jules seemed bewildered by him, and in the end Emily gave up trying to give a good description.

Now though, Emily decided that a quick nap would do her good before getting ready to head down to the local pub. Changing into a tank top, setting her alarm and crawling into her old bed in her parent's house, Emily promptly fell asleep.

Emily tried to clear her head as she wondered what woke her up. Her alarm wasn't belting out its high pitched tone, and looking at her phone, she still had 15 minutes of sleep left.

Then she heard a soft bump downstairs. Sighing she told herself it was her mum or dad moving about. Until she suddenly remembered they had gone out for drinks at a friend's house. Wide awake, she dived out of bed, and pulled on her tracksuit bottoms and a hoody. Looking around, she grabbed her phone and riding crop (she rode her friend's horses from time to time and at this point it was the only weapony looking item she could find).

Creeping down the stairs, her heart pounding, she glanced round the corner of the living room, but saw nothing. She made her way slowly into the kitchen, but still didn't see anything. Confused, Emily lowered the riding crop, when suddenly a shadow passed by the kitchen window towards the door.

'What the hell!' she yelped.

Stumbling backwards, she pulled her mobile out of her pocket, and started to unlock it to dial 999, when the back door into the kitchen opened.

Looking up, her fear turned to anger.

'What the bloody hell are you doing here!?' She practically screamed.

'I don't believe you'll do much damage with a riding crop, though from experience, it would cause some interesting bruising.' The tall form of Sherlock Holmes stood in front of her.

Emily stared open mouthed at him, crop still raised in the air.

'Are you actually serious, get out of my house! You absolute weirdo!'

'It is in fact your parent's house, now you've moved to London. And I also thought you wanted me to answer the question as to what the bloody hell I was doing here. Please make up your mind before giving me contradicting statements. It does get rather annoying.' Sherlock looked unmoved by her threatening gestures with the crop.

'Oh my god, I'm phoning the police.'

'Please don't bother. You haven't attempted to harm me yet.'

'I'm not bothered about harming you, I'm disturbed by the fact you have seemingly followed me from London for some unknown reason, and that I find you in MY house uninvited.'

Emily started backing away again towards the hall. She would make a damn good attempt at running from this guy.

'I really don't think you need to be concerned. After watching your reaction, I have allayed my suspicions about you. I was merely watching out for someone who considers themselves my best friend.' Sherlock clasped his hands behind his back.

Emily stopped walking backwards, and narrowed her eyes at him, crop still raised in one hand, and her mobile in the other.

'What do you mean?' She asked suspiciously.

Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes, 'Perhaps you could lower your 'weapon', and make me a cup of tea. I'm convinced you won't try to poison it. Then I will,' pausing, it looked like it slightly pained him to say it, 'explain my actions to you.'

'You break into MY home, announcing you have suspicions about me, and then ask ME to make YOU a cup of tea. Who the actual hell are you?' She shook her head, open mouthed. 'Oh my god! Fine, I'll make tea, just…sit there and don't touch anything!'

Emily kept an eye on him, and still held onto the crop as she moved about the kitchen making tea. When it was ready she set the tea pot, cups, milk and sugar on the table.

'I'm sure you can sort yourself out from here on. You don't want me to slip something into it. Exactly why do you think I would try to poison you, and why were you concerned for John? I assume that's who you meant, though how you are his best friend I don't know.'

Sherlock took his time making his own tea, until he had stirred it, taken a sip and set it back down.

'Have you heard of Moriarty?' He asked.

'No, why would I have?'

'Because he was a slightly good, psychopathic serial killer who I got the better of. Surely you heard about him in the news?' Sherlock looked almost confused at her blank face.

At this, Emily looked slightly sheepish. 'To be honest I don't pay that much attention to the news. I hear about the major stuff when people tell me, but usually I'm too busy reading a book or watching a movie.'

'Ah, so you really didn't recognise me and John when you moved in. It appears I am wrong again with you Miss Turner.' Cocking his head to one side, he muttered under his breath, 'Intriguing'.

'What is?' Emily was getting more and more confused.

'I wrongly deduced that you were sent by the small remainder of Moriarty's men to kill myself and John. I'm not often wrong; however, I have been several times with you. It intrigues me.'

'Oh.' Emily didn't know what else to say.

'And since I have decided you are not a threat to us, I will leave you to…enjoy the rest of your time here. Make sure you don't miss the 7.36 train tomorrow night.'

With that, he stood up and marched out the kitchen door into the night. Emily was left sitting at the table open mouthed. Eventually she got up, and walked upstairs to get ready, passing the train timetable and ticket pinned to the notice board by the kitchen door…