A/N: Thanks everyone for adding me and for leaving reviews! You all make me so happy :D

It seems like some of you are tumblr users so feel free to check me out: morethanyourpast I'm all about nerdy things and music.

Also, if you ever want to know more about music, what I'm personally up to musically, or just want to chat, feel free to find me on tumblr or leave me a private message! I'd be happy to talk with anyone and everyone.

I don't own anything but Anna and Darlene.

After his abrupt conversation with Mycroft, John felt disheveled. He didn't exactly understand the on bringing of his choice of topic.

John rounded the corner to the second flight of stairs.

Sherlock Holmes does NOT date. If he did, I'd know.

He walked into the doorway and found Sherlock's body pressing Anna's into the floor. Sherlock's face was incredibly close to her own. It was clear that they had been intensely staring at each other yet they both turned their heads to see John.

Sherlock's face appeared as usual, perhaps only slightly frustrated and confused. His hair was disheveled only slightly.

Anna's expression was entirely confused and shocked. Her eyes were wide, her pupils were large black circles, and her mouth was left agape.

John stood in the doorway just a moment longer before throwing his arms to his side and turning back around with out a word.

He got outside the front door to see Mycroft, standing wide legged outside of his vehicle and a slight smug across his face.

"Like you knew about this."

Mycroft only need to raise an eyebrow slightly higher and still silently watched John.

"Oh, shut up."

John briskly walked back towards Lisa's flat.

Once John left, Anna noticed, neither of them had bothered to move from their position. Anna was lying spread eagle-legged on her back and Sherlock remained in between her limbs.

In just a few seconds of unease, Anna cleared her throat. "No tickling. Got it."

Sherlock quickly rose from his position, smoothed out the wrinkled fabric of his shirt and extended his hand down to Anna.

She took his offer and then also wiped her shirt off.

"Maybe I should go." Anna shuffled her feet a little.

There was a silence and Anna had hoped that Sherlock would maybe break the reverberating stillness in the room. He said nothing and Anna turned on her heals to leave the room.

"No." Sherlock stammered a little, his voice raspy. He cleared his throat. "We could…..talk." It sounded more like a question, as if he was unaccustomed to what 'normal' friends do in the time together. He tried to force a smile but it turned out to be more gum than teeth.

Anna stopped and turned to face him. When another short silence settled in briefly, he stepped aside and gestured to one of the chairs.

Anna gave a small smile before taking his offer.

Sherlock then sat in the opposite chair. His legs were in a wide legged, relaxed stance and both hands gripped the arms of the chair. He seemed tense and uncomfortable but Anna tried to ignore it.

She sat with her legs crossed at the knee and her purse was clutched to her chest. With the silence, Anna was able to take a few quick glances around. There was nothing that stated a definite profession. Everything was sporadic yet appeared to have their own place.

"Sherlock, where do you work?" Anna took a few more glances around the room, noting a yellow smiley face prominently on one wall.

"Here." His head bobbed slightly, as if expecting her question.

"What do you do, then?"

"Consulting detective."

It was clear Sherlock was bored with the small talk so Anna didn't press on any deeper.

"You know, Darlene—a woman whom I work with—said I should stay away from you. She says you're no good."

"Yet here you are." Sherlock's eyes studied her face.

"Listening to people was never my strong suit." Anna smiled and looked down to her fingers at her lap.

"What do you think?"

"Of you?" Sherlock nodded to urge her on.

Anna fidgeted with her fingers some more and found her lower lip between her teeth.

"Well," She looked up to his eyes. "You're not as bad as everyone says. I think you're nice."

"How generous of you." Sherlock sounded bored again.

"What else do you do?" Anna asked, eager to alleviate his apparent lack of interest. However, it was to no avail.

"I'm very invested in my work." His mood seemed to turn sour with each minute. He cradled his brow in his fingertips.

"You have time to play your violin with me."

Then there was a beat in their conversation briefly.

"You know it's strange how little we know about each other." Anna tried to start a conversation again. "Besides being musical, of course."

"That's hardly true," he scoffed back to her.

"Really?" Her voice rose a little in disbelief. "You can't possibly know anything about me beyond my apartment number and that—"

"You are a cellist, been playing for just over 15 years now. Probably didn't enjoy it when you first picked it up—most children don't when their parents make them." Sherlock began to rattle off and Anna could feel her cheeks grow flush. "A family member is also a musician, thus the pressure you've endured to meet their expectations.

"And there's that: the longing desire to meet their expectations and obtain their approval. So you've pushed yourself. Yet here you are, working at a shop making minimum wage. It's clearly a temporary job and not something that was expected.

"You've gotten the degree but not the dream job so what went wrong? There's a white band of skin on your left hand—it was more noticeable when we first met—which was where a ring once sat. But now it's disappeared. You came back home from school, expecting to be embraced in your lover's arms but you were betrayed.

"He left you for another and you were left to find a flat on your own. And here we are." Sherlock's icy gaze came to settle on Anna's face. "That's plenty to go on, don't you think."

Anna could feel the stinging of salty tears come in her eyes. It was beyond her control to contain them and a few slipped out. His eyes continued to watch her as she sat there for a few moments longer. She could feel the muscles her face tense up and blood rush to her head, clouding her hearing. Anna squeezed her eyes shut tight before standing up.

"How dare you." Anna seethed.

In one large step, Anna stood before Sherlock and slapped him across the face, hard.

"He didn't leave me." Anna said between her fast, shallow breaths.

Sherlock, in shock himself, cradled his right cheek in hand and looked up to Anna. Her posture grew bent and her fists were clenched at her sides.

"He died." Her voice was barley a whisper but it thundered in Sherlock's ears.

With that, Anna snatched her purse and ran from the room. Sherlock could hear her sniffs and cries as she exited the building.

Sherlock remained in his chair, still taken back from Anna's actions. That was not something he'd ever expect from her. She was too docile and calm to display that much anger and frustration and desperation!

Clearly, he'd touched a sore spot.

'Timing, Sherlock,' he could hear John's voice rattle in the back of his head.

Once more, Sherlock cradled his head and let out an exasperated moan.

This is why he didn't have friends. Dealing with people and their emotions was just so tedious.

"Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson called from the landing of the stairs, coming nearer towards him. "Who's the woman that ran out? Is she your girlfriend?"

"I don't date—"

"On a good day, she seems lovely. You'll have to introduce her sometime, then."

"Oh, God." Sherlock rubbed his temples.

"What did you do to the poor girl?" Mrs. Hudson rummaged her way through the kitchen and small clings and jingles rang as she opened and closed drawers and cupboards.

"What did I do? She slapped me!"

"Probably deserved it, you did." Sherlock shut his mouth. She then came back in a minute later with a warm mug in her hands. "Whatever you did, she sure seemed upset. The poor dear."

Again, this is why Sherlock didn't like people.

Too many feelings involved and it made him uncomfortable.

So. There's another update! Constructive criticism, reviews, and the like are all wonderfully accepted. :D 3