As Sherlock dragged Annie all over London, interrogating the housekeeper Mrs. Tangey and her husband and occasionally asking her about her family history, the detective finally had found Lestrade sipping his coffee at the desk and a mountain of folders opened in front of him.

"Lestrade, I'll take the case" Sherlock announced, pushing in front of him Annie as she counfusedly stared at the detective.

"What case?"

"Percy Phelps"

"You said it was boring!"

"Not at all. Now, tell me what Anderson managed to find and I'll see if something can be salvaged in the midst of his unnerving nonsense"

Annie stood beside Sherlock as he took a seat and waited impatiently for Lestrade to appease him.

"Sit" he told her, "It will take some time"

"Please, Miss Harrison" the other man commented, "Don't be so confused. He always behaves like this"

Annie had thought her days as normal journalists ended with Percy's death, but as she got to know better Sherlock, she could tell the strangest part of her life had still to come.

He went from complete disinterest to excitement in short time and there was no way he was doing it for her, as atonement for his rudeness. There was clearly something that intetested him, at least more than the murder, but she would keep her silence about it.

It wasn't everyday to catch the attention for a case of a well-known detective as Sherlock was about to become with all the advertising on his website.

"As usual Anderson is incompetent for this work. How can you still work with him, Gerald?"

"Greg. And you're the only one to say it" Lestrade corrected him without moving his eyes from the window, as if it was a unconscious repetitive action deeply rooted in his habits... and maybe it really was.

"Well, I suppose then that we'll go and see if this footprints match with our suspects"

"Miss Harrison, do you mind showing us your boots?" Lestrade politely asked to the blond young woman.

"Don't be ridiculous, Gavin. She is not a suspect" Sherlock stood up dramatically, "Her feet are small and her nails are always perfectly manicured. Everything in her screams good education and femininity. She would never prance around in the mud and climb up the wall. No, it's clearly a man"

"Or a woman with big feet" she observed shyly, almost frightened by the savage light in Sherlock's bluish eyes as he turned to watch her in interest, "Sorry"

"No, no. Feel free to say your ideas out loud" he commented, "Sometimes stupid observations are useful at least to push me to the truth"

Lestrade sighed at the offended glare Annie was throwing at Sherlock, who ignored them both and rushed out of the office.

"So, I can return to my work...?" she sort of asked to the detective.

"If I know Sherlock, he will wait for you in a cab" Greg replied, "He can be childish if you ignore him too long and I can tell he definitely wants to show off"

The journalist politely said goodbye to the older man and avoided the curious eyes of all Scotland Yard as she literally ran to the elevators.

As she waited for the doors to open, Annie wondered why Sherlock was dragging her around when she was supposed to be at her desk, working on her articles.

She sighed in relief when Sherlock was nowhere to be found and was about to call for a cab, when a deep voice made her squeak in surprise.

"If you come with me, I'll reply to your questions for your articles"

"Who said I was still writing about you?" she asked, her small hand pressed against her chest as Annie calmed down.

"It would be very profitable for your career. And for my business, since you'll find me new cases"

"New cases?"

"I'm offering a collaboration" Sherlock said, "John's blog definitely contribuited to give me interesting clients, but the press is usually a good source of information"

"I can't see what kind of advantage I could have. Dr Watson already writes about your cases, no one would pay for the same story when there is a free blog"

"Then you can bask in the happiness of helping the society..."

"I'm sorry, but I'm sure you two can do it without me" she cut him off, "Thank you for helping in my fiance's case, but I don't want have nothing to do with killers and murders"

Sherlock watched her climb in the cab Annie had called for herself and pouted at her timid smile as he was left behind.

Definitely it had gone worse than he had imagined, but he had never been one to give up. Sherlock was sure she could be a valuable asset, despite the obvious tendency to hormonal changes.

For now, he was satisfied with planting doubts and playing his game.

Annie woke up the following day after a call from the morgue.

Detective Lestrade was allowing the family to properly bury Percy and let him rest in peace after Sherlock said it was useless to postpone the funeral, seeing there was nothing else to observe on the body.

Dressed in a simple black dress, Annie was almost ready to go out when her eyes went to the engagement ring on her nightstand.

It was almost an unconscious decision to wear it everyday, and now that she was about to say goodbye to him for the last time, Annie wondered if she had the right to keep it.

There was no family left except Percy's old uncle, Lord Holdhurst, who had already sent a cheque for the expenses but couldn't attend.

It was with sadness that she realised she would be alone at the funeral, since Percy wasn't exactly sociable and had no interest in spending time with colleagues.

In truth, Percy had always been sweet with her but wasn't keen in showing off that kind of affection in public.

Forcing herself to push back the sadness at their memories together, Annie spent the trip to the mortuary in silence.

Joseph and her parents couldn't attend with such short notice and Annie wasn't expecting no one else, so she was surprised when John and Sherlock were waiting for her outside the building.

"What are you doing here?"

"We wanted to keep you company, Miss Harrison" John said, "We are really sorry for your loss"

Annie smiled faintly at him.

At least now, she wasn't alone.

"Why haven't you told her it was your idea to come here?" John asked.

"It doesn't matter" Sherlock shrugged, watching the sad girl as she thanked the priest for the small memorial service.

"You don't want to show your human side to others. But it doesn't mean I'll forget" John teased his friend, "In a couple of years I'll use this information as leverage"

Sherlock didn't bother to reply, his blue eyes still fixed on the blond journalist. There was something so upsetting in the sight of her so sad and lonely that pulled even his cold heart.

And it wouldn't be the last pain to hit her at the end of that case.