A/N: Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy. This chapter gets a bit angsty. Sorry 'bout that. Please review!

Sherlock makes plans to check Taylor's boyfriend out on Monday. He tells John, but he doesn't tell Olive, because he doesn't want her involved in the case.

Of course, she figures it out anyway.

"Do you want to do something this afternoon?" Olive asks as they all head to last period. "Lane's got track."

"Oh, uhm…"

John joins in, knowing that Sherlock doesn't want to tell Olive what they're doing. "We can't, sorry."

Olive nods. "What are you guys doing?"

"Uhm…"

Sherlock pointedly looks away. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" she questions.

"Mmm…"

She sighs. "You're going to talk to Taylor, aren't you?"

"Well…"

"You already did?!" she nearly shouts.

Sherlock tries not to look guilty.

"So then today you're following up on something."

Sherlock and John both choose not to say anything.

"What'd she say when you already met with her?"

Again, they keep their mouths shut.

"You're not going to tell me?"

Sherlock shakes his head.

"Why?"

"I don't want you involved," Sherlock says.

"Why not?!"

"I just don't, okay? It's..." Sherlock wants to tell her it's because it's a case about drug use, and he doesn't want it to trigger any emotions having to do with her friend Anne.

She raises her voice. "Tell me why!"

Sherlock stops in the hall and turns to her. "First of all..."

John knows that Sherlock doesn't like when anyone raises their voice at him, so he rubs his face in embarrassment and gets ready for a fight. "Great," he mutters.

"You clearly don't like her," Sherlock explains. "I met with Taylor and she's not nearly as bad as you think she is. Second, I feel bad for her, alright? She doesn't need you lurking around making your comments and making her feel like it's her fault her boyfriend is more than likely on drugs."

Olive looks offended. "I wouldn't—"

"You would, because the moment she says anything you feel like arguing, you'll mutter something and then you two will get in a stupid little girly cat fight. She needs help, Olive. And this isn't missing books or butterfly earrings, this is real. Someone is in real danger. You of all people should know that!"

Olive just glares at him, and John's afraid she's going to punch him or yell back, but all she does is whisper, "Fine." Then she turns around and walks away.

Sherlock looks as if he's been punched in the gut anyway. He looks shocked that he said what he did.

John rubs his arm and pushes him towards their class. "Come on, Sherlock."

Sherlock steps backwards, towards where Olive ran off to. "I have to—"

"Leave her alone, alright?"

The warning bell rings.

Sherlock nods and lets John lead him to class.

Sherlock doesn't see Olive before they leave the school, and John tells him not to call her.

"She needs space," John says.

"But—"

"No, Sherlock, seriously. Leave her alone."

Sherlock reluctantly follows John home.

John's mom agrees to let them borrow her car to go to the bank. They explain to her what they're doing, and she tells them not to follow Danny home from the bank.

Which, of course, gives them the idea to follow Danny home from the bank.

Sherlock calls Taylor while they're on their way to the bank.

"Hello, Sherlock?" she answers.

"Taylor, hi. I was just wondering if you have plans with Danny this afternoon."

"No, actually, I was just about to call you to tell you that he broke plans with me because he has to help a friend do something."

"Huh," Sherlock says. "Well, I think we're going to follow him home, alright?"

"Alright. If you think you can gather anything from that."

"I think it will." Sherlock goes on to ask Taylor what kind of car Danny drives and what Danny looks like.

"He's tall, he's got black hair, light skin. He'll be wearing a suit, and he's the only person under thirty who works at the bank, so you'll know him."

"Should be easy then. I'll call you when we're done, okay?"

"Okay. Just…be careful, okay?"

"We will. Thanks, Taylor."

Taylor says to call her if he gets anything, then says goodbye and hangs up.

"So…" John says as they drive. "Why did you say that to Olive today?"

"Say what?"

"Say, 'you of all people should know…' whatever else you said. What did you mean by that?"

Sherlock looks out the window. "I can't tell you."

"Why?"

"Because I promised I wouldn't."

John wants to pry; he wants to remind Sherlock that Sherlock told Olive about his dad being in jail. But he doesn't.

"Alright," is all he says, then keeps driving.

They arrive at the bank at exactly five o'clock, and they wait in the first parking spot they can find. They have perfect view of Danny's car, and they wait only ten minutes before he gets in and drives down the street.

They keep a far enough distance from Danny's car so he doesn't notice he's being followed. Sherlock keeps Danny's probable paranoia in mind, so they take it easy.

Danny drives out of the current neighborhood they're in, but John doesn't lose him. Danny doesn't seem to notice either, because he doesn't speed up or turn to get away from them.

After driving for nearly thirty minutes, they get out of the city and to a more run-down housing neighborhood.

"This doesn't look good," John says.

"No, it's a bit suspicious."

They follow Danny through to houses that are very poorly taken care of.

"They look like crack houses," John observes. "Do you think it's safe to say Danny is on drugs?"

"He's hanging around here."

"Maybe he's just selling?"

Sherlock shakes his head. "Taylor gave me symptoms."

Danny pulls into a house lot, so John pulls over at the first parking spot nearest to the house.

"What are you going to tell Taylor?"

"The truth. I'm going to tell her that we followed Danny way out here and that all signs point to drugs."

"She'll be devastated."

"She'll be safer away from a boyfriend who is on cocaine."

John nods. He turns to Sherlock and pats his knee. "Ready?"

Sherlock rubs John's hand, then John puts the car in drive and starts down the street.

As they're driving past the house, Sherlock looks over at it and sees a guy smoking on the front steps. For a second, he thinks that he's seen the guy before, but he doesn't see enough face to identify him. With a mental shrug, Sherlock looks out the front window while John drives out of the sketchy neighborhood.

Sherlock invites Taylor over as soon as they get home. He wants to tell her in person, but he thinks enough to not meet her at a public place.

Taylor arrives not long after Sherlock gets off the phone with her, and she looks terribly ill.

"It's bad, isn't it?" she asks as Sherlock tells her to sit on the sofa.

"Uhm…" Sherlock nervously licks his lips and sits across from her. "We followed Danny from the bank to…"

Taylor looks even more worried. "To where?"

"To a, uhm, to a really, really honestly frightening neighborhood. It looked like a very run down house where, I don't know, maybe that's where he goes to get his drugs."

"Oh my god," Taylor sighs, then buries her face in her hands. Her shoulders shake and it's clear that she's crying.

John leaves to get her tissues.

"I'm really sorry Taylor," Sherlock says when he leaves.

Taylor sniffles in her hand. "What am I to do now?" she cries.

John returns on time to answer for Sherlock.

"Uhm…" John says, placing the box of tissues on the table in front of her. "Well, first you should confront Danny in a safe environment. Perhaps with his parents, or your parents. He needs help, Taylor. If you care about him, you'll help him."

Taylor nods. "Why is he doing this? I must have—"

"It's not your fault," John tells her. "Don't blame yourself. Drug use is nobody's fault but the user, okay? All you can do is help him."

Taylor nods again and wipes her eyes on a tissue.

"Don't confront Danny without other people there to protect you, okay?" John says. "Trust me. I confronted my sister of her alcoholism while we were alone at home one night and it wasn't good."

"Okay," Taylor agrees, but she begins to cry harder. "Is it wrong if I don't want to break up with him?"

"No," John says. "It's not wrong. But he needs help."

Taylor nods.

John tries to comfort her for a while longer, and once Taylor is composed enough to go home, she gets up to leave. John tells her they'll check on her in a few days and to let them know if she needs anything else. She thanks them both, then leaves.

"My mum needs me home," John says once Taylor's gone. "So I'll see you tomorrow."

Sherlock watches him with concern. John slips his jacket on without really saying anything, then goes to the door still silent.

"Are you mad at me?" Sherlock asks as John reaches for the doorknob.

"What gave you that idea?"

"Well, because you're—"

John sighs.

"Sarcasm," Sherlock mutters.

"Winner," John says.

Sherlock frowns. "Why are you mad at me?"

"Why, Sherlock? Why?"

Sherlock nods.

John huffs. "I'm mad because you didn't need to yell at Olive. I'm mad because you two share your little secrets and you can't tell me, even though you tell her everything about us."

"Well…not everything."

"Not helping."

Sherlock looks at the floor. "You said our friendship didn't bother you."

"Yeah, well, maybe it does sometimes. Maybe it's not enough that I'm the one you kiss and hug and stuff. Sometimes I think you're too emotionally attached to her, and that hurts worse."

"Why?"

"Because it means you're only physically attached to me. Not emotionally."

"Of course I'm emotionally attached to you. I love you."

"You love her, too."

"Yeah, and you love Brady, too. I'm in love with you."

John frowns at his shoes.

Sherlock smoothes his hands down the front of John's jacket. He feels his body breaking down, his mind is racing with panic, his breathing grows quicker.

John takes Sherlock's hands and pulls them off his chest. "I have to go home."

Sherlock's heart breaks.

John opens the door and steps through.

Sherlock lies on the floor.

When Clement gets home half an hour later, Sherlock is still on the floor of the entryway. He kneels on the floor and asks what happened, so Sherlock tells him everything, starting with what he said to Olive.

"John will be fine soon," Clement says, "But you need to apologize to Olive."

Sherlock nods and sits up. "I'm going to go now."

Clement helps him off the floor. "Don't be out too late."

Olive's dad welcomes Sherlock into the house when he arrives. "Sherlock! What a pleasure! Olive's up in her room, she said you were too busy to get together this afternoon."

"I finished early," Sherlock explains. "Can I just—"

"Go on up," John says.

Sherlock runs up the stairs and goes into Olive's room without knocking. She just glances at him once, then turns back to her laptop.

"What are you doing here?" she asks.

"I came to apologize."

Olive sighs. "Close the door."

Sherlock closes the door, then sits on Olive's bed.

Olive turns her chair around to face Sherlock.

"Listen, I…" he runs a hand through his hair to try to calm himself, but it doesn't help much. "I'm so sorry for what I said and that I yelled and for…everything. I'm sorry."

"Did John tell you to come over here?"

"No."

"Look, if you don't want me involved in Taylor's case, that's fine. For the most part, I agree with what you said. It could be triggering and I could make it worse for her. But she hurt me, Sherlock, and you'll never understand how. She was my best friend and she abandoned me."

"Okay," Sherlock says, "I'm sorry."

Olive rubs her eyes. "Look, I think we need to spend some time apart."

"Okay," Sherlock agrees. "I'll come back tomorrow so we can talk."

"No, Sherlock, I mean…some real time. Not twenty-four hours. An undetermined amount of time for us to just…relax."

"You don't want to be my friend anymore?"

"I didn't say that, Sherlock. We just need some time apart."

Sherlock suddenly stands. "Fine," he says, then goes to the door. He pauses to say something else, something that could hurt her, but he doesn't. He just silently leaves without even slamming the door.

He's upset, of course, so he goes straight over to John's house.

"Sherlock," John says when he opens the door, "I'm still upset."

"I'm sorry," Sherlock blurts. "I'm sorry that I made you angry and I'm sorry for every time that I ever make you angry because I suck and I don't deserve you or anyone else so if you're going to break up with me just do it now."

"What?!" John pulls Sherlock into the house and places his hands on Sherlock's hips. "God, no, babe, I don't want to break up with you. I was mad, that's all. I don't want to break up with you."

Sherlock nearly cries with relief.

John wraps his arms around Sherlock's waist and hugs him tight. Sherlock eagerly hugs back until John pulls away and takes Sherlock's hand.

"Come on," he says, "Upstairs."

Once in John's room, John positions Sherlock to lie back on the bed and John lies on his stomach.

"I'm sorry I made you think I wanted to break up with you," John says. "What made you think that, though? I don't want to, baby, not ever."

"I went over to Olive's," Sherlock says.

John physically tenses in Sherlock's arms. "And?"

"And…she told me we need to spend time apart. I just figured you wanted the same thing."

John props himself up to look at Sherlock's face. "I'm sorry, Sherlock. Maybe she's right, though."

Sherlock shrugs.

"It'll blow over soon. I promise."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because you're friends."

Sherlock doesn't say anything, so John lies back down and tugs Sherlock's shirt up to his chest. He rubs Sherlock's skin with his hand and his face, leaving a few kisses here and there along his torso.

John runs his finger along Sherlock's belly button. "I love your belly button."

Sherlock chuckles and sucks in. John delicately touches him until goosebumps paint his pale skin.

"My mum's gone to work," John whispers against Sherlock's belly, trailing his fingers lower to Sherlock's jeans.

Sherlock catches his hand. "I'm afraid I'm not in the mood, John."

John easily concedes, pulling his hand away. He rests his chin on Sherlock's stomach and looks up at him. "I'm sorry I got so angry."

"I'm sorry I made you angry."

"It wasn't even anything…real," John says. "I know I shouldn't be mad about you and Olive but…I really can't help it sometimes, baby. You're mine, I just…"

"Get territorial, I know. I do, too."

"I know you do," John says with a laugh.

"What makes you say it like that? I've never been obviously territorial of you."

John laughs harder. "Babe, come on. When we were eight, you shoved a girl off the monkey-bars because she was playing with me. When we were ten, you wouldn't leave me alone the entire school year because you didn't want anyone to talk to me. Remember, we were almost put in separate classes."

Sherlock tightens his grip on John. "I can't even bare the thought of it now."

John laughs. "Oh, no, the best one? Remember when we were fifteen and you set someone on fire because he was my lab partner?"

Sherlock gasps. "I didn't set him on fire, John! I may have just…maybe it was his sleeve."

"You were suspended."

"I didn't like him."

John kisses his stomach.

Sherlock runs a hand through John's hair until he stops his hand on the back of John's head. He pulls until John climbs up and kisses Sherlock lightly.

After kissing delicately for a while, Sherlock announces that he needs to leave. He asks John over for dinner, and of course John agrees.

They don't talk any more about what happened, and that's fine for Sherlock, because he really wants to avoid thinking about the conflict with Olive for as long as he can.