As Eve bounced down the stairs, a young man roughly the same age as her walked into the hallway. She noticed he looked like he'd had barely any sleep and by the yellow edged shaky hands, a smoker in the dire need of a smoke, at least Sherlock would be happy. But before even thinking of the man who she couldn't get out of mind, she had to fix the mess he had just caused & go and check her Gran was okay. She had noticed that her Gran had dressed up abit more than usual and had used a more seductive perfume but she was planning to tell her gently that the man from the sandwich place next door was no good, but she was going to be kind about it, not do the Sherlock thing and say what you think before making sure no-one would get hurt by your words. She was the same usually, but after her time travelling Europe, she had learnt for herself that the truth hurts like a bitch and she wished someone had told her the truth in a way that made it as painless as possible, even though she knew that was not in any way possible.

After calming her Gran down, convincing to think it over and confront him when she feels ready, Eve changed into a pair of knee length leggings and an old shirt ready to start sorting out her flat properly. She started in the kitchen, placing the kitchen items she already owned into cupboards, realising she had better go shopping soon. She scrubbed every surface till it sparkled, the cleaning distracting from her usual thoughts. She had to keep busy; it was the only way to block out the memories. She knew eventually they would fade, but when, even someone as clever as her couldn't figure that out. She heard her buzzer ring and smiled when they said it was the paint company. Practically skipping into the hallway, she almost ran into her Gran, heading towards the front door.

'Make sure you tell him, if he messes with you again, I'll be getting involved' she told her Gran, before she walked into the sandwich shop. She directed the delivery men to her flat, and then waited outside so she could keep an eye on her Gran. If there was anything she was protective over, it was without a doubt her Gran. She had provided her with a flat in a brilliant part of London, given her the fresh start she needed to distract her. She had been there so much through her childhood so many times as well, through her mum's death, when she lost not just a mum but a baby brother. And she was the mother figure she craved her when her father vanished into his work. She had been there through all the tears and trails of being a teenager, and made a huge fuss of everything she had ever achieved, even the little things. She had even pulled Eve's dad out of her slumber was when she 9, something he had been in since she was 7, and helped them bond into the strong father and daughter they had been. So when someone set out to hurt her Gran, she was not a girl to be messed with.

She thanked the delivery men, quickly popping in to lock up. She lent against the railings outside, watching her Gran explode with the famous Hudson woman's temper, Hudson women were not ones to cross when angry, it was something she had learnt from a young age, when a teacher had called Eve a show off when she was 10, when she said her favourite book was something most people didn't even begin to understand until they were well into to their teens, her Gran had exploded at the teacher, asking why it was showing off that a girl showed potential and a eagerness to read. The teacher had literally cried. Eve smiled at the memory, placing her headphones on, letting the music wash over her.

Music had been a kind of therapy to Eve for as long as she could remember, her mum had the sweetest voice in the whole world, and she would always sing Eve to sleep as a child, whenever something upset her, her mum would soothe her instantly by singing Beatles and Elvis songs to her, in her sweet melodic voice. As soon as she could speak, she would always try and sing along with her mother, and then she found her mum's Violin and by the age of 6, she was a confident player, never wanting lessons, just loving how the violin sounded when she got a note right and when she got it wrong. Her keen interest in instruments carried on through out her life, she went on to learn several different instruments, all for the love of playing, never caring about learning from others, teaching herself through trail and error. When her mother died, the only way for her to sleep was to listen to Beatles or Elvis songs, something which she later realised pained her father beyond words. She loved how different songs made her feel different things, each and every song on her Ipod held a different memory, some painful, some amazing. She could put on a song and the memory of the song would flash before her eyes. The majority were of her uni years, a few of her time travelling and a lot of her mum, she still loved The Beatles and Elvis to this day thanks to her mum.

Without realising it, she began to sway to the song on her Ipod, a gentle smile on her lips as she danced along. She danced to the beat of the song, a memory of her first school disco filling her mind, taking her away from the London street to the hall at her secondary school, her feet tapping to the song, she relaxed into the song, her mind completely on the memory so she didn't notice the cab pull up and Sherlock and John walk out the front door into the street, until she danced straight into Sherlock. Blushing wildly, she pulled her head phones off and mumbled a hello. Sherlock looked completely bemused, curious at the strangeness of her new neighbour's desire to dance in the middle of the street. Her eyes flicked with embarrassment, the sun bouncing off them making the green of them even more dazzling. He shook this image away, trying to notice anything else but her. Something that was proving impossibly hard, something that irritated and confused him beyond anything ever had.

'Going away?' she asked, still blushing from her embarrassment.

'Case up in Dartmoor, should only be a few days' John replied, closing the door. 'Could you let Mrs Hudson know we're going?'

'Yer sure, well have fun' Eve smiled, her smile lingering at little too long as her eyes met Sherlock's. She looked away but something drew her back to him, thankfully he was now getting into the cab with John. She waved goodbye, and quickly walked up the steps to the front door, pausing for a moment to watch the cab drive away and turn the corner. She couldn't explain why she felt drawn to Sherlock, his complete disregard for people's feelings irritated her, but yet there was something about him. His arrogance was quite entertaining; she would have some fun outwitting him, something she had a habit of doing. And there was something about how his hair, and the way he dressed, she was a bit of a sucker for men who dressed well. Suddenly realising what she was thinking. She shook the thought away and walked into her flat, trying to focus on what room to do first, not Sherlock. Well she could try anyway.

As the cab drove away, Sherlock looked back to see Eve standing on the steps outside their front door, the wind blowing her hair in front of her face. He couldn't understand why she stubbornly refused to move out of his thoughts, her eyes, her voice, her scar. And her smile. He closed his eyes trying to hide away from the thoughts, but it only increased then, making him sigh in frustration. He didn't have the time, or the desire, to think about someone else, but yet there she was, a girl with beautiful green eyes, happily making a home in his mind.