New Flatmates

John peered at the woman who was covered in an orange blanket and perched in the back of the ambulance. She had her face down and appeared completely oblivious to everything going on around her, only occasionally whimpering as the ambulance man stretched her foot. She had sprained it in the dash from the flat. It was really a miracle to be honest... that the sprained ankle was the worst thing that had happened that night. John shuddered at the thought of what could have happened.

John looked around at Sherlock who was talking animatedly to Lestrade, hands waving in a very strange manner. He kept looking over at the woman with obvious concern on his face. John smiled gently at thinking of the scene that had greeted him when he had rounded the corner, the woman nestled in Sherlock's chest and the man himself embracing her and rubbing her back soothingly. He hadn't let go of her until Lestrade had demanded his version of things that had happened. That brought them to now.

Sherlock let out a yell audible from where John was standing. He marched over leaving Lestrade in his wake muttering apologies.

"Sorry... Sorry Giles!" he yelled turning on the spot and facing the startled Inspector. John flinched, he had never heard such pure venom in Sherlock's voice, and neither had he heard Sherlock call Lestrade by his first name before. Policemen rushed forward to defend their cowering Inspector.

"I should have told you" Lestrade mumbled. Sherlock raised his eyebrows.

"Too right you should!" he spat making each word more vicious than the next. He span on his heel and stalked right past John towards the ambulance. The paramedic shot him a stony stare as he stopped in front of the woman.

"You can go... Dr Watson will take over from here" he sneered gesturing behind him to John. How he knew he was there didn't matter for once, as the paramedic nodded and swiftly left. John kneeled down and gently began examining her foot. She stayed staring at the floor, eyes red and puffy from crying and wet patches on her knees where the tears were still falling. John shot a look at Sherlock that warned him to calm down but found his job already done. Sherlock was pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes closed and breathing deeply.

Sherlock blinked and opened his eyes. All he could see of the woman was her shiny, newly washed hair and the bright vibrant orange of the shock blanket, her head was bowed but she wasn't looking at John. Sherlock sat awkwardly beside her, ignoring the astonished glances the policemen and John, were sure to be shooting at him.

"Karen?" he said softly. She stayed staring at the floor but her breathing slowed slightly.

"Your names Karen Johnson... yes?" he continued. Karen sniffed and nodded her head slightly. John frowned and looked at him astonished.

"How the hell?" he mouthed at him. Sherlock glared back. He turned back to Karen.

"Lestrade, he told me about your brother. Why you carry his glasses around. And why you were in the police station." He whispered.

Karen shifted in her seat and looked up at Sherlock. Her eyes beneath the sore- looking puffy skin were a deep chocolate brown, only a shade lighter than her hair that was falling in tendrils around her face. Sherlock gulped internally.

"You go there, every Saturday even though you're a busy woman, to ensure that they catch the man who murdered your brother. The murder- you witnessed." He continued. Karen clasped her eyes shut, memories flooding back in waves, the fiery explosion that had swallowed the remaining member of her immediate family. She had found out since then that the explosion had not been a faulty gas line that everyone had previously said, but a carefully plotted murder that was designed to take out her brother's wife but had taken him and nearly her along with her.

Karen gasped and shook. Sherlock peered at her, shivering partly from the cold, partly from the horrific memories that she was obviously re-living. With everyone watching mouths gaping open, Sherlock shrugged himself out of his treasured coat and draped it over Karen's shoulders. The shivering didn't subside completely but she still managed to put her arms through the holes and pull the still warm coat tight around her.

Sherlock stayed where he was looking at the woman beside him.

"John call a cab" he said in his usual drawl not taking his eyes off her. John frowned at such a sudden request.

"Sherlock we can't leave her here! Her house just blew up and she's... she's - she's coming back with us isn't she?" he muttered already getting his phone from his pocket. Sherlock smiled slightly up at him.

"Not as dumb as you look are you John?" he said.