Sherlock's boredom was taking its toll. John was constantly going out with Sarah and so that just left him home alone all the time, reading and being bored again. He had read all the books of interest to him and so he once again found himself going out for a stroll in the cold winter air, walking along the pathway in an absent minded fashion, obliviously passing a red door which he had been at the previous week, talking to someone who he found captivating. He had not seen the mysterious Scarlett Jenson since the morning where he carried her home, stopping her from catching a rather bad case of pneumonia by the looks of it. He found the young woman interesting; there was nothing special about her, no hidden deep dark secrets or his inability to read her. She was a plain girl and yet she had caught his eye. Something not many women were capable to do. He didn't look at her door when he passed it; instead he continued walking along, until he found his favourite coffee shop. Stepping inside, the room was small and lay out with benches with tables in the middle, the seating plush and even plusher due to the fact no one was sitting in them.

"Can I make that to go?" a familiar voice asked at the till and Sherlock stopped his pondering out the window and looked in front of him. Blonde hair was piled onto the woman's head in a scruffy looking bun, she wore a black tube skirt, coming just above her knees, her feet wore black heels which made her look tall and she also wore a grey blazer, covering a plain white vest top. Before Holmes could even say anything her phone began to vibrate and she muttered under her breath and pulled it from the depths of her leather bag and answered it.

"Yes," she said. "No...Mary I'm on my way in...I had to...yes okay I was late up," she moaned and Sherlock chuckled at the unprofessionalism of the girl, she really was used to getting into sticky situations.

"I put them on my desk," she said, grabbing her coffee and quickly turning, as she did so, she didn't see Sherlock stood behind her and she waltzed straight into him, her hand which held the coffee allowed the cup to tumble from her grasp and straight onto his purple scarf and grey coat.

"Oh God!" she shrieked, stepping back, looking at him, her phone still plastered to her ear as she stared at the stranger.

"Mary I have to go," and then she hung up, placing the phone simply into her pocket before looking at Sherlock, her hands raised, palms flat as she shook her head;

"I am so sorry," she told him.

"No," he replied. "I must have been stood too close." He wasn't. And he knew it.

"Oh this is ridiculous!" The blonde squeaked out. "First you meet me and I'm walking home after spending a night with a stranger," she called out and the woman behind the till raised her eyebrows in wonder as Sherlock watched her and then looked back at the blonde who was hunting for napkins on the table, grabbing a hand full, "and now I've just gone and spilt coffee on you after admitting to my...well...work colleague that I slept in..."

"It's quite alright," Sherlock assured her, dabbing the napkins onto his scarf as the blonde girl folded one arm across her midriff and then her other held her cheek as she turned red.

"Oh it's not alright," she adjusted her bag on her shoulder. "I've ruined your scarf and coat."

"Nothing that a good dry clean can't fix," Sherlock assured her and she began to open her black leather bag again on her shoulder;

"At least let me pay for it..." She pulled out a large purse and Sherlock began to wander why she had so much stuff in her bag, but the consulting detective shook his head.

"No Miss Jenson," he said sternly. "I can afford it...you don't need to do that."

"But I'd feel better," she said and reached for the money, but Sherlock grabbed onto her hand to stop her and he took her purse and closed it up, handing it back to her and looking her in the eye;

"You don't have to," he said and she finally gave in and simply just looked at him, intrigued by this man who seemed to be jumping up on her at awkward moments.

"I'm not normally this clumsy," she promised him and he chuckled, remembering her saying something along those lines when they had first met.

"Of course Miss Jenson," he agreed courteously with her.

"Please call me Scarlett...I think after me spilling coffee on you and you carrying me home that we're past formalities," she chuckled and simply stood where she was, forgetting about work.

"Well normally people are past formalities when they get to know someone well," Sherlock informed her and she nodded.

"That is true," she agreed. "But you seem to know everything about me."

"I didn't know you was clumsy as well as a party animal," Sherlock retorted and Scarlett simply laughed once.

"Well now you do."

"And you still know nothing of me," Sherlock replied and Scarlett turned a little red which Sherlock picked up on and he made an 'ah' noise.

"Clearly you do know something about me judging by the silence of you and so that must mean that you researched me after that morning, possibly on the internet, don't look like the type of girl to read a paper and so I imagine you found my blog and some other interesting news articles," Sherlock said and Scarlett looked to the floor;

"I wish you'd stop doing that," she muttered.

"Why?" Sherlock wondered. "I quite like the colour it brings to your cheeks, makes you look nice," he said and Scarlett simply looked into his eyes and wondered what was going on as he seemed to look emotionless still. Before she could even think of replying, her phone began to vibrate and she dug it back out and answered it.

"No...sorry Mary...I spilt my coffee...okay...no...it's on my computer...Mr High asked me to do it that's why. I'll be there soon," and then she hung up again and looked at Sherlock, motioning to the door with her phone.

"I have to go," she said and Sherlock nodded.

"Of course. Work calls," he agreed with her. "However, seeing as how you know about me now then I do think I should receive some more information in return," he said and she fiddled in her bag for a moment.

"I thought you knew all about me?" she raised a brow.

"As did I." Sherlock stated smugly. "But clearly not, as you said the other morning, I know of you but I don't know you," he said and Scarlett nodded.

"I do remember saying that," she confirmed. "Although I think you have more information than I do."

"Maybe we can rectify that?" he proposed to her and Scarlett wondered what was happening. Was he asking her out? Was she saying yes?

"Maybe," she tried not to smile. "How about a drink...tonight...perhaps?" Oh God she thought did I sound too eager? He's going to think I'm a complete nutcase...oh shut up Scarlett, he thinks that already, you spilt coffee on him and had him carry you home for goodness sake.

"Ah." Sherlock mused. "Considering your track record with alcohol from what I know of you I'd say we'd best leave that be...you wouldn't want to make the same mistake twice" he embarrassed her and she turned an extremely deep red as she couldn't manage to speak and so Sherlock continued for the both of them;

"I'll be at your door at seven thirty tonight," he said and she nodded in agreement;

"Okay then," she agreed. "I have to go," she moaned when he phone began to vibrate again and she moved to the door.

"And Scarlett?" Sherlock called out to her and a smile played on her lips, hearing him call her name. "Here's your coffee...I do believe that was the main reason you came in here," he told her, giving over his own coffee which the woman had prepared for him, what with him being a regular.

"Thanks," Scarlett smiled and then left. Sherlock sat down in a booth and removed his coat and scarf and watched as she walked off, managing to dodge people in the street as she went. There was something interesting about her, he had to admit. But he didn't know why.

...

Instantly I thought about just making this a one shot, but I don't know whether to just do multiple chapters or develop into a story. Anyway, please review if you're reading! Thank you to PhantomInspector for their review!