THANK YOU TO ALL OF MY BEAUTIFUL AND PATIENT READERS.

Here's the next chapter!

Finally.

Enjoy!

'No, no Audrey, release the handbrake you're going to -' The jeep slams to a halt. 'Stall.' Sherlock finishes with a groan. I look at him apologetically and restart the engine, while John cackles in the seat behind us. Sherlock has his index finger and thumb pressed firmly on the bridge of his nose, and is softly counting back from ten.

'Okay but in my defence, I've only done like, five lessons…' I attempt to justify my appalling driving skills. 'And these country roads are so…bumpy…' I trail off as Sherlock inhales loudly and opens his door. 'I think I'll take it from here.' I swiftly scoot over to the passenger's side as Sherlock settles in behind the steering wheel. Turning to hide my frown, I stare out the window.

I mean for once it would be nice not to make a bumbling idiot of myself. I sigh wistfully and begin plaiting tiny strands of my hair. After a few more moments of silence, Sherlock clears his throat.

'I could teach you, when we get back to London.' He glances at me, raising his eyebrows. 'If you wish.' I gawk rudely at him for a second, taken-aback by the thoughtful gesture, and then grin widely, nodding my head. 'That's very nice of you, Sherlock.' He shrugs in response, staring straightforward. I dip my head to try and hide my smug smirk.

You're changing him, Audrey.

I lift my head to peep up at him fondly when BAM, his hand slams down onto the horn, producing an obnoxious BEEEEEEEP. I jolt in shock, my eyes widening.

'Jesus effing Christ.' John utters weakly as the car in front of us gradually begins to speed up.

'Moron.' Sherlock scowls darkly at the rear of the vehicle. I shake my head disbelievingly

You know what? Scratch that last thought.

'Mother of pearl.' I whisper appreciatively as we stand outside the mansion that is Henry Knight's house. It's enormous – all four storeys of it. We walk through the large, old-fashioned glass conservatory attached to the rear of the building. Sherlock raises his hand to ring the doorbell, but before his finger comes into contact the button, the door is hastily wrenched open, revealing a slightly flustered Henry.

'Hello. Come in, come in.' He promptly waves us inside the hallway and marches towards the kitchen. Sherlock briskly follows suit while John and I take in the beautiful interior, gaping open-mouthed like a pair of your average, run-of-the-mill plebeians.

'Wait, hold on.' I whisper and pull John back. 'I've gotta snapchat this.' Whipping out my phone, I expertly snap a selfie of a wide-eyed John pointing to an expensive looking bone china vase.

'Who's "not_my_division62"?' John asks while I scroll through my contacts.

'Greg Lestrade.'

'Ahh.'

Henry hands me a steaming mug of coffee once I've settled myself behind the marble island in the centre of the kitchen. I smile at him and gracefully dump six spoonfuls of sugar into the cup, stirring vigorously. Henry blinks rapidly at me before turning his attention back to Sherlock.

'What now, then?'

'Sherlock's got a plan.' John replies encouragingly.

Sherlock nods solemnly. 'Yes. We take you back out onto the moor ...'

'Okay ...' Henry nervously waits for Sherlock to continue.

'... and see if anything attacks you.'

'What?!' John exclaims, choking a bit on his coffee.

Ignoring his spluttering friend, Sherlock finishes the sentence. 'That should bring things to a head.'

'At night?' Henry asks hoarsely. 'You want me to go out there at night?

'Mmhm.'

'That's your plan!?' John snorts with laughter. 'Brilliant.'

Sherlock glances at me in disbelief before turning to John. 'Got any better ideas?'

John, still chuckling, shakes his head. 'That's not a plan.'

'Listen, if there is a monster out there, John, there's only one thing to do: find out where it lives.' He looks round to Henry and smiles widely at him before taking another drink from his mug.

Henry does not look encouraged by this.

I sigh loudly. 'Forgive me lord for what I am about to say but… I think Sherlock's got a point.' Sherlock smirks triumphantly at John and Henry. 'If this monster is actually real and not a figment of old Henry's imagination, then we need the proof.'

I notice that Henry's face has turned a worrying shade of grey, so I scoot over to him and squeeze his hand. 'We'll be with you the whole time, Henry. Nothing bad is going to happen. Trust me.'

'Alright men, listen up.' I pace back and forth in front of Sherlock, Henry and John, hands clasped behind my back. We are standing on the outskirts of the forest leading to Dewer's Hollow. 'If you would kindly look to the left you will see the backpacks I have provided for each of you. Inside said backpacks you will find a walkie-talkie, plasters, a hunting knife, woolly socks, a flashlight, and a flask of tea.' I hand a bag to each of them.

Sherlock peers inside his rucksack and begins to snigger.

'Something funny, Mr Holmes?'

'Yes.'

'Yes, ma'am.'

He narrows his eyes at me and pulls the knife from his bag. 'This is a butter knife.'

I stare at the silver object impassively. 'And?'

'I couldn't even harm a comatose leaf with this.'

Ignoring him, I pull my own walkie-talkie from my back pocket and run through the rules. 'From now on, we will be using code names. You may address me as Eagle One. Sherlock, code name – Dat ass. Henry – It happened once in a dream. John is – … Eagle Two.'

'Oh thank God.' I hear John mumble in relief.

'Right gang.' I heave my own rucksack onto my back. 'Let's Scooby Doo this biatch.'

We trudge through the undergrowth, me taking the lead and John bringing up the rear. A round compass sits in my left hand, and a torch is clutched tightly in the my right.

The compass is just for effect, though.

I have no fucking clue where we're going.

Sherlock catches up to me in two strides, and glances sideways.

'You would have told us if there actually was a monster, wouldn't you, Audrey.'

I smirk, knowing the suspense must be killing him. Shoving the compass back in my pack, I take my time answering.

'Well… let's put it this way: I wouldn't not tell you if I wasn't unsure of the fact that they're very probably may not be the possibility of a giant hound.' I grin sweetly at him.

'Good god, you're turning into me.' He grumbles.

A fox screams somewhere in the darkness, and I shudder involuntarily. Sherlock, noticing my discomfort, takes a step closer to me and discreetly takes my hand in his. I cheerfully gaze down at our interlocked fingers, resisting the urge to swing my arms.

We continue walking in silence for the next few minutes, when John calls Sherlock back.

'Wait, hold up. I think I can see something over there – a flashlight, maybe?'

Sherlock rolls his eyes and quickens his pace. 'We don't have time, John. I'm sure it's just some tourists.'

Slowly pulling my hand from his, I wave Sherlock on ahead of me. 'You and Henry continue, I'll stay with John.' Sherlock frowns, his eyes flickering around the dark forest. 'Are you sure?' I nod and smile. 'Alright then…' He reluctantly takes a step forward. 'But if you're not in Dewer's Hollow in ten minutes I'll send Scotland Yard after you.'

I chuckle at this. 'Wouldn't put it past you.' Sherlock gives me one final look before beckoning Henry to follow him. I hurry back towards John, who is scribbling something down in his notepad.

'…U.M.Q.R.A…umqra?' He looks at me quizzically, tapping the pen against his chin.

I shrug and put on my best bewildered expression. 'Doesn't ring any bells.' I turn away to hide my smirk and have a very one-sided internal battle with myself.

Should I tell him?

…

Nah.

Flipping his notebook shut, John heads off in the direction of the other two, me following in hot pursuit. We walk in comfortable silence for the first few minutes, before John speaks up.

'So…You and Sherlock…'

He looks at me pointedly.

'Yes? Care to elaborate on that ground-breaking statement?'

'Are you, uh…' He clears his throat awkwardly. '…together?'

I fix my gaze on the footpath ahead of us. '…No.' Glancing up at him, I shrug nonchalantly. 'Why? …Has he said anything to you?'

John shakes his head, and I try my best to hide my disappointment.

'Although,' He continues. 'He did say something the night before we left for Baskerville.'

I perk up at this, staring at him with what I can imagine as a slightly manic look in my eyes. 'Yes? What was it? What did he say?'

John opens his mouth to reply, but suddenly spins around as something large flashes past behind him. I yelp in fright, and throw myself at his chest.

'What the fucking fuck was that?'

'I have no fucking clue.' John glances around the perimeter of the pathway, pulling me close and tucking me under his arm. Our pace speeds up considerably as we try to catch up to the others. A few seconds later, an anguished howling sound rings through the silence.

'Oh hell no! This is some fucking werewolf-Lupin shit going on right here.'

John breaks into a run and pulls me after him. 'C'mon, the others could be in danger.' Racing through the dense undergrowth, I don't even have time to register when my body runs smack bang into a solid wall, and I land straight onto my bottom. I look up to see a dazed Sherlock, his face chalk-white.

'Sherlock!' I jump back up and grab both of his hands. 'What is it? What's wrong?' I press my palm against his cheek. 'Why are you so pale?' He doesn't answer, only shuts his eyes, and continues to breathe heavily.

'We saw it.' Henry's voice is barely audible. 'We saw it.'

At Henry's words, Sherlock's eyes fly open, cold fury flashing through them. I take a step back in surprise.

'No.' Sherlock spits and storm past us. 'We didn't see anything.'

Henry mouths wordlessly, confusion etched across his features. 'What is he – Yes, yes we did see something…' He trails of, staring at John and I imploringly.

I sigh loudly and check the time.

Yep, just as I suspected – 3.01 am.

So one minute has passed since I last checked my phone.

Fascinating.

Just as I place the phone back on the bedside locker, the door handle slowly begins to turn. Twisting around so that I'm facing away from light, I pretend to be sleeping. Sherlock quietly shuffles into the room and sits down at the edge of the bed. The mattress squeaks slightly. He mumbles something while he pulls his shoes off, and the swings his legs up to settle on top of the bed. I try to keep my breathing as regular as possible.

'Audrey, I know you're awake.'

Dammit.

'No I'm not.'

'You've just spoken.'

'Ever heard of sleep talking?'

Sherlock sighs and remains silent. I reluctantly twist around to face him, in no mood to be at the receiving end of one of his tantrums. Though surprisingly, he appears rather calm.

'Do you want to talk about what happened in the forest?' I ask tentatively.

'Already did. With John.' He frowns for a second. 'Well, we shouted about it, really.' He sighs once more and rubs his eyes. 'Every time I close my eyes I see it. This great, red-eyed hound, snarling and snapping its jaws. My mind simply can't process it – I don't want to process it.' His voice has become so low; a whisper, almost. He turns his head to look into my eyes. 'It's not possible. How is it possible?' His voice cracks on the last syllable.

'Oh Sherlock.' I shimmy over to him and take his hand in mine, squeezing it gently. It takes all but five seconds to make up my mind.

'There is no hound. Never was, never will be.' He blinks at me, startled.

'I promised myself I would never tell you a single thing about solving your cases. Who knows what could happen if I changed the storyline…' I trail off as Sherlock sits up against the headrest, pulling me into an upright position as well. 'But it makes me sad to see you sad.' I finish, shrugging my shoulders. Sherlock doesn't say anything, he just continues to stare at me.

'Sherlock? Did you hear me? I said the hound isn't re – ' Sherlock places a finger on my lips, silencing me.

'You…feel sad?'

Seriously? That's what he's taking away from this?

His finger is still pressed firmly against my mouth, so I roll my eyes and make a strange sound at the back of my throat. Sherlock, realising that I want to say something, pulls his hand away, and it takes everything not to touch my now tingling lips.

'Well, not anymore. But I didn't like seeing you so upset.'

Sherlock's expression softens at this, before his eyes light up and he exclaims a very loud, 'Aha!'

'Shhh! There are people sleeping!'

'Hallucinogens.' Sherlock lowers his voice. 'That's what gave me the vision in the woods, yes?'

I narrow my eyes, shaking my head slightly. 'Nope, I'm not giving you any more hints. You're on your own from here.'

'But the hound doesn't exist?' Sherlock verifies, seemingly unperturbed by my refusal.

'Yes.' I clarify. 'The hound does not exist.'

Sherlock breathes a sigh of relief and rests his head against the bed-frame. He remains silent for a few seconds before lifting his head and peering straight into my soul. 'Thank you, Audrey.'

'Oh, don't worry about it.' I wave my hand casually. 'To be honest, I'm just glad I didn't have to witness your bitch fit earlier thi – W-what are you doing?' I stutter as I notice Sherlock bending his head closer to mine. He gently catches my chin between his thumb and index finger, and tilts my head upwards. 'I want to try something.' he murmurs, his soft breath tickling my face. Closing the distance between us, he presses his lips against mine. I stay rigid for a second, utterly dumbfounded over what has just occurred.

It takes all but nought to sixty seconds for my body to respond.

Pushing myself closer, I lean into the kiss, and place the palms of my hands against his chest. Half-expecting him to pull away, I make an almost inaudible squeaking sound when his other hand snakes around my waist, pulling me into him. His fingers brush upwards over my cheek, past my ears, and through my hair, until my head is firmly secured in place. He opens his mouth then, deepening the kiss and, somewhere in the back of my mind, I wonder how much longer my heart can take this before I go into cardiac arrest.

His mouth begins to soften against mine, his movements slower. When we finally break apart, my vision is literally swimming.

'Woah…' I breathe, feeling all lightheaded and mushy.

Sherlock chuckles deeply, shifting his weight so that we're half sitting, half lying down against the pillows. I timidly rest my head against his chest, still unsure of how to act around him.

'You know,' I begin quietly, a small though nagging at the back of my mind. 'I never thought you were like this.'

Sherlock pauses the circles he had been tracing against my back, and I fear for a second that I've upset him. But he answers calmly.

'What do you mean?'

What's the nicest way of telling someone you though they were asexual?

'I just mean,' I tilt my head upwards so that my eyes meet his. 'You're surprisingly affectionate.'

He doesn't reply, but he does continue to caress my back.

Worried that I've offended him, I begin to babble apologetically.

'Not that you're not affectionate! Of course you are, in your own way. I just mean that sometimes you can come across as – '

'Audrey.' Sherlock gently cuts me off. 'I'm not offended.' Nodding contentedly I lay my head back down onto his chest.

Then I frown.

'Have you had any supper?'

Sherlock quirks his brow, and smirks slightly. 'No, I didn't have the time.'

I sit upright again and swing my legs over the bed, hopping down. Tip-toeing over to my rucksack, I pull out a flapjack.

'Eat.' I command him once I've re-settled myself by his side. Giving me his best drama queen sigh, he reluctantly opens the flapjack and nibbles one of the corners.

Lying back down alongside him, I absentmindedly play with my hair while listening to his munches.

Maybe being trapped here isn't so bad after all...

WOW. Okay. So. That was different, yes?

I feel like I need to clarify a few things after the events that have transpired in this chapter.

So, canon Sherlock, as we all know, is asexual. And as I've said before, I want to try and keep this fic as close to the original storyline as possible.

But in saying that, this story is a Sherlock/OC romance fic so, that kind of cancelled out the whole asexual thing from the onset.

I'm saying this to you because I know Sherlock will feel very out-of-character in the romantic scenes, so please, no hate for that.

Constructive criticism - yes.

Hate - no.

ANYWAYS, now that's out of the way I would LOVE to hear what you guys thought of the chapter!

Are things moving too fast? I personally feel like it was the right time for a kiss, but what do you think?

As always, thank you so, so, so much for all of the support, you guys are genuine lads.

P.s To whoever spots the Parks and Rec reference - I love you.