Summary: As a university professor in London, Kagome specializes in the study of human behavior and psychology. She's done what she can to abandon her past far behind her. Her involvement in one of Scotland Yard's cases put her on Sherlock's radar. She can't determine if it's a good or bad thing. Meanwhile, the abrasive consulting detective can't read her, and it's driving him mad.

Pairing: Sherlock/Kagome

Disclaimer: I do not own either series. Each belongs to their rightful owners!

Chapter One: Conundrum.

She was silent at his side, her expression betraying nothing that she might be thinking. The closer they got to their destination, the more he found himself trying to read her, to no avail. About a mile away from their destination, she picked her head up and glanced out the window at her side. A second later, she shifted her focus to him.

Her expression shifted, though only slightly. He caught onto it, but before he could examine it any, it was gone. In the blink of an eye, her expression had returned to her neutral one that revealed nothing of her thoughts or emotions.

"We're just about there, aren't we?" she asked in a faint voice. It was instant- the way he could tell she wasn't simply asking out of innocent curiosity. Her blue eyes held a knowing light, despite her expression remaining calm and composed. A facade, surely, judging by how expressive her eyes seemed to become.

She had posed a statement in the form of a question, but why? She was playing at being coy when she did not need to be. Everything she did, what she said, how she carried herself… it only left him with more questions than answers.

"Yes," Sherlock responded, eyeing her closely for any minor change that might flash across her face, no matter how brief they might be. "How did you know?" he questioned her. He hadn't bothered to inform her of their destination. Not the location, nor the time it might take to reach it. She smiled, and he noted how it was far from a genuine one. It was like she had been caught in an act, but he had no clue what act that might be…

Kagome turned her head away from him then, but he could still see her face in her reflection on the window. Her hands fiddled with the collar on her blouse- a nervous habit, perhaps?- he wondered. The silence hovered between them as he awaited her answer, but just as he began to think she wouldn't offer him one, he was proved wrong when her bell-like voice broke through the heavy silence.

"Nothing special." she mused softly. "It was only a guess, considering we've been in the cab for a while now," she added.

She sounded subdued as she spoke, and he couldn't quite place why. Just as swift as it appeared, the dulcent sound of her voice had faded. She had been quite lively while giving her lesson to her students not even three hours ago, but now she was the opposite. She was reserved. Something was weighing on her mind, but what it was…- now that was the question.

The closer and closer they got to their destination, he noticed it. The way her gaze would darken, even with her ever-calm expression.

"I see…" Sherlock responded, unable to keep the stilted tone from his voice.

The confusion that formed at the thought of her only continued to mount. She had seemingly boxed herself behind an invisible wall, and he could tell that it was done on purpose by her. He watched her hand fall from the collar of her blouse and back to where her other rested on her lap.

They were small, but several scarred lines littered the delicate appendages. Being in such close proximity to her, he was able to detect the same lines on her arms until the rolled-up sleeves of her coat severed his line of sight.

While not self-inflicted, they also had not been made by any sort of animal by the looks of them. So, then what was the source?

She moved abruptly, unfurling the sleeves of her coat to cover the rest of her arms. He looked at her reflection, but all he saw was her lounging there with her eyes closed. Her hands rested in her lap once more, and he was left wondering.

Had she noticed his observations, or had it been done on a whim? A coincidence.

He tore his gaze away from her just as the cab came to a halt finally. He got out first, which seemed to pull her to do the same. As the cab departed, leaving the pair there, Sherlock glanced back down at the woman standing beside him. When he did, he was mystified to see how her expression had changed in a matter of seconds.

Her face had gone pale, and a dark shadow had been cast in vibrant blue pools. It was a stark contrast to how she'd been mere seconds ago…

"How stagnant…" she mumbled under her breath, neat brows furrowing as she turned her gaze down to the ground. A hand rested on her hip, and she looked stiff as she stood motionless. Sherlock was certain her comment hadn't been meant for his ears, but he had heard it regardless. He wasn't about to let her comment slip away, discarded, either.

"What do you mean by that?" he inquired. She looked up at him after a pause on her end, and she shook her head.

"The air," she said, but it didn't exactly provide him with any insight into what she had meant. "It's so lifeless here. It's smothering."

Her brief explanation left him with more questions than answers, but he was swiftly realizing that was common when it came to her. Either way, it was turning into a very intriguing game in piecing the parts of her together.

000

She felt it the moment she got out of the cab. On the ride there, she had been trying to tune out the approaching aura, but now that she was there, she could feel how it saturated the surrounding location.

It was heavy, suffocating, trying to bury her. It'd been a long time since she felt the aura of death, so to suddenly be in so close proximity to it…- It was a little overbearing. She already knew the scene she would walk in on wouldn't be a pretty one. A small prayer flittered through her mind at the thought of the poor soul targeted.

"Are you ready to proceed?"

Kagome looked up at Sherlock's question, and she nodded. "I guess I am," she responded. A part of her willed her to leave, but she ignored it. She had come this far. There was no sense in backing out now.

"About bloody time you showed up!" A familiar voice pulled her attention away from Sherlock, and she glanced over her shoulder. When she did, her gaze landed on Lestrade as he traversed the short walk to where they stood.

"I had someone to pick up," Sherlock responded in a blunt tone. As he did, he made a very clear motion to her. Lestrade paused and looked at her, and she could register a variety of emotions flashing through his eyes in rapid fire.

"You just agreed to go with him? Lestrade questioned her, and she shrugged.

"He made a very convincing argument," she responded. She could tell Lestrade wanted to ask, but he refrained from doing so. He shook his head and looked back at Sherlock.

"Don't you think this is something you should've run by us first?" he questioned. Sherlock made a face that showed what he thought of that idea, and it was far from polite.

"Why would I do something as pointless as that?" he argued.

"She's a professor," Lestrade responded, motioning to her. "This isn't the type of place she should be."

"Oh, I'd disagree," Sherlock scoffed. As he did, he set a hand on her shoulder, tugging her to his chest. At once, she was surprised by the physical strength he seemed to possess- especially when she found herself unable to break away when she tried. "She knows more than the rest of them out there," he remarked, nodding to where the crime scene was set up.

She couldn't help but shrug in mild agreement. Well, he certainly wasn't wrong. She could observe what they couldn't, even if no one really knew that she possessed those skills.

"Still-!" Lestrade groaned, rubbing at his eyes.

"Well, let's go, then," Sherlock ignored him and tugged her forward. She fell into step automatically, letting him guide her along. She wasn't phased by his actions. Lestrade fell into step behind them.

"If you feel like you need to step away, don't hesitate," Lestrade told her, and she nodded.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I'll be fine," she assured.

When they reached the place where the body rested, the air around her had grown far heavier than before. She put on the pair of offered gloves. When she was motioned forward by the strange man with her, she arched a brow but took a step closer.

She crouched beside the body, her expression unreadable as she examined the status he was in.

He had been moderately healthy before death- seemingly caught off-guard on a morning run, but the looks of his attire. Her heart ached for him, truly. Given his current appearance, he looked as if he'd been mauled by an animal. It had all the savagery of an animal attack, yet it also possessed precision that such situations often lacked.

"Well?"

She glanced up, only to spot Sherlock observing her with intrigue. She knew she had to be careful with the words she offered.

"It was done out of opportunity," she stated. "He was out here on his own. Unfortunate, but he was merely in the wrong place at the wrong time." She motioned to the marks on his chest. "The first few were too shallow, and had little impact on him." She lifted her hand to the wound on his neck. "His carotid has been severed by the look of it, which led to him bleeding out."

"Very clever," Sherlock responded. "What do you make of the wounds?" he questioned. "Weapon?"

"A hunting knife," she remarked. "You can tell by the marks left behind," she explained, motioning to the cuts along his chest. "Though they're shallow- most likely from nerves. They'd clearly never used it a day in their life, though," she added as she pushed herself back up.

"Mhm," Sherlock nodded, encouraging her. He could tell there was more she wanted to say.

"Although…" She spared a quick glance back down at the body. There was a splotch of blood on his arm that bore a different aura than his own. It wasn't his own blood, that much was for certain. "The blood on his arm shouldn't be there, given how he's positioned and where his wounds are," she stated. "I'd fashion a guess that the attacker accidentally cut himself in the first half of the struggle."

As she fell silent, she stripped the gloves off her hands.

"Oh great," a woman off to the side scoffed. "Don't tell me there's two of them now."

Kagome spared a quick glance her way. She didn't like the way she'd said those words, but she ignored her either way.

000

"Something on your mind?" Kagome mused softly as she walked alongside Sherlock away from the crime scene.

"Admittedly, yes," he responded. Kagome glanced at him, curiosity in her eyes. "You're far from normal, aren't you?"

Kagome frowned at the question. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked. Granted, he was right, but she still wanted to know.

"Oh, don't play coy," Sherlock stated. Her innocent expression remained in place for a few more seconds before it faltered. She sighed and looked away from him.

"I see the world differently from others," she said, voice quiet. "No matter how much I try to separate that part of me from who I am now, I never really can get rid of it." She glanced down at her hands, blue eyes darkening. "I feel what others cannot. I sense what others overlook. I see what others ignore."

Sherlock was silent as she explained.

"Everyone has a unique signature they give off, an aura. It lingers when they leave, saturates what they touch, clings to who they're around," she continued. "For as long as I can recall, I've always been in tune with these things," she admitted. She saw no point in lying, not when he was already so far on to her. "I just became more inclined to it in my teenage years."

Silence built up between them as she finished her brief explanation. There was more she could say, but she didn't want to if he didn't believe her. She felt him observing her.

"Fascinating," he said in response. She looked up to meet his gaze. He could tell she hadn't lied to him, but offered him the pure truth. It sparked more curiosity in his brain. He was enthralled- he wanted to know more. He wanted to know the effects of such a skill. "Do tell me more."

Kagome arched a brow. "How do you know I'm not just lying to you?"

Sherlock scoffed. "Oh, please, you're a horrible liar," he remarked. Kagome wasn't sure if she should be offended by his comment, or glad that he even believed her.

"I'd love to tell you more, but I have things I need to do," she stated as she turned away. "I still have papers to read and grade," she added to back up her claim. "But, you do know where to find me," she said as an afterthought. "So, I'll see you around sometime, I'm sure."

"Well, you've still got the cab ride back," he responded. Kagome stifled a small laugh as she nodded in agreement.

"I suppose that's true," she said.

Her past was something she had pushed away. She certainly hadn't expected the situation at hand to stir the dormant memories, but maybe it wouldn't be all that bad…

C.R: Kagome has decided to be transparent about her special traits, and it's caught Sherlock's interest. (Well, not just that, but no one will admit that..)

Anyway, that's it for now! Thank you all for reading and I hope you all enjoyed! Hopefully I caught all the errors before posting, but if not sorry.

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Bye for now~