((Once again I apologise for the wait. I will get quicker at posting chapters eventually, I just don't get much access to a PC as much as I'd like D: Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I have written more chapters and they will be posted once they have been chacked for mistakes and cut down a bit as they are rather long haha

Again, thanks for all the reviews so far. I am glad you're liking the story. Keep them coming. And you know, I don't mind some critisism. It can only help me improve my writing. :) ))

The articles Mycroft had given Amy proved to be very informative. They answered many of the questions that had been floating around in her head, and explained why Sherlock seemed, in some ways, a tad eccentric.

So, he was a consulting detective who solved crimes for the police and clients who came to him for help. John Watson, his former flatmate, had often assisted. A man, who called himself a consulting criminal, James Moriarty showed up, and, from what Amy had gathered, caused problems for Sherlock; resulting in his fake death just over a year ago. The reason why and how Sherlock had faked his death had all been explained thoroughly by Mycroft in the papers. Amy was surprised when Molly's name popped up, explaining she had a part in it.

The papers also included recent articles on the discovery that Sherlock was alive. It all made for an exhilarating read - it was like reading a best-selling crime novel.

Mycroft has also attached two web addresses to the information. Despite it being late at night Amy couldn't resist having a look. After pulling her laptop from under the bed she made herself comfy between the sheets and typed in the first address.

'The Science of Deduction' - Sherlock's website. It was fascinating! She suddenly got a better understanding of how he worked in a sense as she read through his case notes analysis on different types of tobacco ash.

The next was John Watson's blog and Amy found it nigh on impossible to tear her eyes away from it. The more she read the more she realised how much she was letting herself in for - something Mycroft had wanted her to know.

Morning arrived. Amy hadn't slept a wink. She hadn't even noticed the time until she heard footsteps in the hallway. Two sets of footsteps. Two voices. One was Sherlock's; the other's she didn't recognise.

Amy groaned when saw it was nine am. The curtains had stopped any light pouring in so the room was still dark. She was soon out of her room. "I'll be there," she heard Sherlock say, briefly catching a glimpse of someone sweep past down the stairs.

"Who was that?" she asked as she joined Sherlock in the living room, unexpectedly yawning.

"The police," he said bluntly.

"You have a case?"

Hold on, has he missed something? All of a sudden Amy knew what he was and yesterday she didn't...

"Yes."

"It couldn't have come a better time," she muttered to herself but Sherlock still heard her.

"How so?" He frowned.

"I met your brother yesterday."

Hearing this, Sherlock rolled his eyes. Typical Mycroft, he can't keep his beak out of anything. "I wondered how long it would be before he started interfering again. Three weeks. I think that's a new record."

"He told me about what you do - a consulting detective. He gave me some things to read. I read them last night. Newspaper articles. Your website. John's blog."

"Let me guess, Mycroft also asked you to keep an eye on me, as well."

"Yeah... That, too."

"More like he wants you to spy on me."

"Why would he do that?"

"Like I said, he can't stop interfering."

"You know, John made the cases you'd both undertaken sound rather impressive," she continued, changing the subject of Mycroft to something she wanted to talk about. "I'd like to see for myself," she hinted.

"You want to come?"

"If it's not too much trouble..."

"I'm not sure it's really your things..."

"Oh, come on, when you met me you noticed I was adventurous." She grinned. "It's totally my thing."

"You're not dressed yet..."

"Give me a few minutes and I will be."

But she's not John. After inhaling deeply Sherlock sighed, surrendering to her enthusiasm. "It seems as if I don't have much of a choice."

"No, you don't." Amy celebrated with a grin and sped off to change. The fact that she had had no sleep had eluded her. She was raring to go!

They took a cab to the crime scene in Kensington and Chelsea. Despite heavy traffic they arrived in a matter of minutes. The snow was starting to melt. Hopefully the worst of the crap weather was over.

Outside a row of posh white houses were police cars and two ambulances. The road had been sectioned off but that didn't stop the odd spectator from gathering to see what was going on.

"Who is this?" DI Lestrade asked when he saw Amy arriving with Sherlock.

"She's with me," Sherlock said bluntly.

"I didn't authorize this."

"No, I did."

With a sigh, Lestrade let it go. He should know by now that Sherlock did as he pleased quite often. "Is she John's replacement then? Have you been feeling lonely?" he teased.

"Hey," Amy butted in, "I am nobody's replacement!"

Lestrade half smiled, half smirked. She seemed feisty. "Right." Leading the pair into the house he explained what the police had found so far in the half an hour they had been there. It wasn't long before Sherlock and Amy were faced with the scene themselves.

A man casually dressed laid face down on the living room floor by a wide open window. For that reason the room was very cold. It looked as if he had tried to get in through the window, but had tripped and fallen. A robber?

While Amy had been digesting the scene Sherlock had slipped on gloves and was examining the body. The victim's head was almost smashed in, blood still oozing from the back of his scalp. He'd been hit hard with something. But the murder weapon was nowhere to be seen.

Searching the man's pockets he found a wallet and keys; an ID badge, too, which displayed a photo and the name 'Jeremy Ripsher'. Sherlock tossed it over to Lestrade.

A banging noise from the hallway made Amy jump suddenly. Peering around the door frame she saw two officers breaking a door down. Lestrade went to join them. If the door was locked then there was something being hidden from them.

Amy saw the Sherlock had flown over to the open window. She observed as he ran his fingers along the frame of the window with deep concentration. The red head did her own examination of the room. Circling the walls she tried to take in as much as she could. Perhaps the beautifully furnished room held extra clues other than those on and around the dead man.

Noticing photos turned face down on the fireplace she instinctively looked at them. The man was in the photos with a blonde woman and young boy. It looked like an old photo, taken some years ago. "He lived here."

"Clearly," Sherlock answered, spinning around to face her. "There's a luggage bag outside. It's quite a fair distance away from this window and judging by its size it would have been a bit too heavy to throw that far from here. So it's likely that it was thrown from a height. I'd say upstairs."

"He was being thrown out," she muttered. That made sense. Then she spotted paper on the floor. Reading the first few lines she realised that the papers were divorce papers. They soon reminded her of her own marriage. "These are signed by a 'Louise Ripsher' but there's no sign of his signature." She showed Sherlock.

"Broken marriage. How predictable..."

"She must have thrown him out, only he tried to get back in through the window she killed him..." It seemed like a logical explanation to her.

There was the sound of a door being broken into and they were both off to see what had been found. Sherlock thought there was something more to this than just an estranged couple's argument. It seemed like he was right when they entered the locked dining room.