One

Whoop! Let's get this party started! This is the first chapter of my third Sherlock instalment, done upon demand of my readers from my first two fics. If you haven't read them please do for there are some minor plot twists that will confuse a 'probi' who hasn't. "A Study of Crimson Colour" is my first and "I'm Banking on It" is the second. For those of you who are avid readers of my work, welcome back and bless you.

Go raibh maith agaibh or Thank you all.Enjoy!

Charlie POV:

It was extremely late by the time Charlie stumbled through the door of 221B Baker Street. A clock on the mantel piece confirmed her worst suspicions by announcing the approach of one o'clock in the blood morning. Her Aunt's apartment showed no light or sound, reminding Charlie exactly how late she'd been working recently.

"Fan-fucking-tastic." She muttered irritably as she shrugged off her leather jacket and mounted the stairs cautiously. The living-room was still alive with sound and she groaned, knowing her hopes to avoid her flat mate had once again fallen short of the mark. Jacket over one arm Charlie took a fortifying breath and entered the room. A second later she giggled. Sherlock was slouched within the confines of an armchair… watching midnight television dramas with an expression that clearly told the world he was unimpressed. His thin frame spoke volumes, slumped pitifully on the cushions while arms tightly folded across his chest. His intense blue eyes were glued to the set; picking up every clue, storing away every detail of the half-hearted mystery for later. Thankfully it seemed his attention was fixed entirely on the screen so she quietly placed her jacket of the rack beside his and sauntered over to the couch, hoping to catch a few moments shut eye. Gratefully she sank down onto the seat, curling her legs up into her stomach and folding her arms beneath her chin to watch the TV amusedly. She'd just managed to relax when Sherlock exploded.

"Idiots! She can't have murdered him, she's at least two inches too short and she had her nails done." He exclaimed and she jumped slightly.

"Sherlock, calm down would you? It's a late night serial drama with little-to-no-plot and it's obviously driving you balmy, go check your blog or something." She said calmly and he turned to look at her, as though realising for the first time that she was in the room.

"Charlotte, what are you still doing up?" He demanded and she smirked.

"Watching telly." She said smartly and he frowned. His collar was opened and her eyes were drawn instinctively to a faint mark on the side of his neck… a mark she recognised instantly. The smirk slipped off her face and she swallowed. Shaking her head she turned her attention back to the screen, feeling more than seeing, his eyes roll. He stood and moved over to John's laptop. Upon hearing his muttering she turned her eyes to the laptop screen.

"Sherlock why are you still commandeering John's laptop?" She asked and he shrugged, peering intensely at the small screen. She too got up and came around to peer at it. With a satisfying snap he closed the lid and stood.

"Have you ever been to Belarus?" Sherlock asked and she frowned.

"No, I've heard it's cold." She replied and he smiled.

"Freezing." He said shortly, jumping around the room excitedly. She peered at him warily.

"Pack a coat Charlotte, I think it snows this time of year." He said softly and she gaped at him.

"I never said I would go." She protested lamely and he chuckled from within the confines of his bachelor cave.

"Doesn't mean you're not." He returned smartly. She groaned but moved towards her room. It was mornings like this that made her want to commit murder.

A few hours later:

It was freezing. Charlie sat stiffly on the plastic chair, rubbing her gloveless hands together ferverently in a poor attempt to bring them back to life. Her breath was a distinct cloud of fog before her face and she knew without trying to touch that her face had already lost all feeling.

"Here." A deep voice beside her said and a pair of larger sized gloves were placed in her lap. She looked up at Sherlock in surprise, a silent question in her eyes. He shrugged nonchalantly.

"I dragged you here, I might as well make sure you don't lose a finger or two… your Aunt would probably add it to my rent." He mused and she frowned. Then she smiled, at least he cared. Gratefully she pulled the still warm articles on and the pair turned simultaneously to face the only other occupant in the room. The man opposite them kept leering at her in a frightfully unappealing way. Tempted to release a round of swear words vile enough to turn his hair white Charlie held herself together by crossing her arms and legs defiantly. This slat wasn't going to ruin her day any more than it already was.

"So, tell me exactly what happened." Sherlock said finally. The man grinned.

"Well we was at this bar-" He began and Charlie growled internally at the defilement of her second language.

"Were." She said irritably.

"Huh?" Came the intelligent reply and she looked up from picking lint off her jacket to stare at him boredly.

"You were in a bar. Anyway, please continue." She said politely. He scowled.

"An' I was chatting up some of the waitresses and Karen weren't happy about that-" He continued.

"Wasn't happy." Sherlock noted primly and she flashed him a quick glance. The man's fists clenched but he continued.

"And we went back to the hotel and ended up having a bit of a ding dong don't we? She kept saying I weren't a real man-" He said angrily. She looked at him, an eyebrow raised sardonically.

"Wasn't a real man...and suddenly there's a knife in my hands. And my old man was a butcher, he learned us how to cut up a beast-" The odious man stopped at her next interruption.

"Taught you, not learned." She reminded him smoothly, yawning for extra effect. She could see his fury was mounting and knew she had but moments before it exploded.

"And then I done it-"

"Did it." She injected.

"I DID IT! STABBED HER OVER AND OVER AGAIN! JUST LIKE I WILL YOU, YOU BLOODY BITCH!" He screamed and launched himself across the table. Having anticipated his reaction Charlie moved to the side. He went to punch her. She leaned back, but needn't have bothered. His fist was suddenly held inside Sherlock's. She turned to look at her flat mate and college. He was outwardly calm, as always, but there was a furious gleam in his eyes which made her shiver. Slowly he lowered the man's fist and stood, taking her arm as he did. She didn't protest.

"I think we're done here." He said and she nodded.

"Please Mr. Holmes! I'll get hung for this!" The man pleaded and Charlie didn't even bother to look around.

"No you won't," Sherlock said, smiling slightly.

"Hanged, yes." And they left. Once outside Sherlock grabbed her firmly and stared down at her carefully, taking in every inch of her for some imagined injury.

"Are you alright?" He asked worriedly and she nodded, feeling slightly heady at his concern.

"Please, he didn't even glance a blow." She said confidently then she hugged him gently.

"Thank you." She said softly in his ear before drawing away and walking off down the thin corridor to the exit.

The next day:

Sherlock was bored again. Walking into the apartment late once again Charlie found him sulking in his blue silk dressing gown, firing a gun at the wall. She placed her hands over her ears and waited for a pause in the shots before walking cautiously into the room. He turned to look at her before returning to his exercise. Each bullet landed along the yellow lines of the smiley face he had painted on the wall. She sighed and sat down on the couch. Soon she heard the door open and John marched in, shopping in hand.

"What the HELL are you doing?" He demanded angrily and Charlie indicated towards Sherlock, shifting a bright red bang out of her eyes as she did so. She really needed to cut it, it was getting way to long now.

"Bored." Sherlock announced.

"What?" John asked and Charlie sighed. Sherlock pointed the gun blindly.

"Bored! BORED! BORED! BORED!" He shot at the wall to punctuate every 'bored' making Charlie roll her eyes in exasperation.

" Sherlock we get it, you're bored." She said as John walked towards the fridge. It's a sad moment in a person's life when finding their flat mate firing bullets into a wall doesn't raise alarm bells in the mind and is simply accepted as a normal part of said flat mate… Charlie realised that moment had come and groaned.

"We got anything in? I'm starving!" John asked over the noise of their infantile friend.

"John..." She warned as he opened the fridge door. There was silence while he closed it, continued as he opened it once more. The second closing was followed by a leaning against the door. She smirked at the ceiling and waited.

"There's a head in the fridge...a bloody head!" John yelled and she sighed.

"Just tea for me thanks." Sherlock said and Charlie threw a book at his head, narrowly missing permanent damage and causing him to glare reproachfully at her.

"I'm measuring the coagulation of saliva after death." Sherlock said evenly. She glanced over at him and smiled.

"I'm still waiting for a thank for that, it took all my bargaining skills to convince Thalia to allow that head out of the morgue." She said and he nodded.

"Yes, thank you." He muttered distractedly. She rolled her eyes.

"We read your blog by the way, A Study in Pink." She said and John popped his head back into the room.

"Did you...did you like it?" He asked and Charlie was spared the time of answering by an antsy Sherlock.

"Hmm, let me think...no." he said irritably.

"Why not?" John bristled.

"I thought you'd be flattered."

"'Sherlock Holmes sees through everyone and everything. What amazes me though is how spectacularly ignorant he can be about some things.'" Quoted Sherlock sarcastically. Charlie now realised the origin of his foul mood over the last few days and relaxed against her cushions.

"No I didn't mean..." John began but was instantly cut off.

"Oh you meant 'spectacularly ignorant' in a nice way. Just because I don't care about who's sleeping with whom or who's prime minister..." Sherlock said angrily.

"Or whether the Earth goes round the Sun or not." John added cheaply, earning another book throw from Charlie. He dodged but it glanced his shoulder. She snorted and smirked as they argued about the importance of astronomy.

"What does it matter?" Sherlock exploded.

"If we go round the moon or round and round the garden like a teddy bear it wouldn't make a difference. All that matters is the work, without that my brain rots… write that in your blog or better yet stop inflicting your opinions on the world." He said angrily and John stormed from the flat. Silence fell over the flat and Charlie sighed.

"Sherlock that wasn't nice." She said to his prone body, which had migrated to beside her own but remained stubbornly turned towards the wall. He remained facing the other way at her comment. Charlie spotted her aunt walking up the stairs.

"Have you had a little domestic?" She asked teasingly and Charlie rolled her eyes.

"They were arguing Aunty Em, not me." She said to her favourite family member. She chuckled before seeing the bullet holes in the wall.

"Who did that to my bloody wall?" She demanded and Charlie flinched stood and grinned at his landlady charmingly. The woman in question simply scowled and turned away to retreat downstairs.

"That's going on your rent young man!" She called over her shoulder and Charlie shook her head gingerly. The windows were dark and she knew John would not be back tonight. She stood and walked towards her room.

"Charlotte." A soft voice called out from behind her and she paused.

"Yes Sherlock?" She asked and turned to face him quizzically. He seemed nervous.

"Would you… like a game of chess, we haven't played on in ages. You're always at work or sleeping, you hardly talk anymore and, I never thought I'd hear myself say this, it's sending me a little haywire." He said softly and she felt shock ripple her body. Standing in the doorway, gaping like an idiot she could only nod.

"Sure, just let me get changed." She said and disappeared into her room. She returned momentarily. The board was already set up and she gently folded herself into a yoga worthy position on the armchair. The game began and suddenly all the uneasiness she'd been feeling since that night two weeks ago just silted away. They played deep into the morning, the game finally called stalemate as dawn broke over Baker Street. Sherlock was smiling, something he hadn't done since the last case and she couldn't stop her own from breaking over her face.

"Why is it that you are the only person I don't mind tying with?" She asked as they lay top and tail on the couch. Sherlock quirked a brow at her and she shrugged.

"I think I'll sleep here, play your violin anytime in the next three hours and I will personally rip it apart." She said sweetly and closed her eyes.

"Sleep well Charlotte." He said and she grinned.

"Morning." She muttered and slipped off into sleep.

Sherlock POV:

Sherlock was pacing around the living room by the time Charlie woke up. The sun wasn't long up and he turned to look over at her as she stood to walk over and open the curtains. She smiled over at him and the sunlight alighted the deep circles beneath her eyes. Why hadn't he noticed them before? She hadn't slept well since her brother's funeral, but something told him it wasn't all that was wrong. He turned away from the windows just in time to hear an enormous bang echo through the apartment and be flung forwards onto the floor. A scream of pain came from behind him and he was on his feet in an instant.

"Charlie!" he screamed and moved to where she lay on her back. Glass from the imploded windows was buried in her face and there was blood everywhere. She was breathing hard but fighting to control the shock. He knelt beside her and gently helped her to her feet. He escorted her to the chemical laden kitchen table and forced her into one of the stools while he searched for the emergency kit.

"Sherlock...how bad is it?" She asked quietly and he looke over at her once more, his stomach twisting in his gut at the sight of her bloodied face. It was worse than when he'd accidently punched her in the eye whilst fighting the messengers from Saudi Arabia but by no means scaring, she must have turned away just in time to avoid being blinded. He walked over and began to pull the pieces from her skin and clean the wounds gently. He pushed her vibrant red hair back from her forehead and stared at her face.

"It will not scar. You are lucky the glass missed your eyes." He said softly and she flinched at the touch of antiseptic on her cuts.

"I'm sorry." He said softly but she shook her head.

"You're very gentle." She whispered and he felt an odd stirring deep in his core, down where he was sure it was not proper to feel such a twinge. She looked, although it was a highly improbable notion, extremely beautiful. Even injured and in pain, dressed in nothing but torn pajamas she managed to look naturally wonderful… hold those flaming horses what the hell was wrong with him.

"Cac." He muttered and she chuckled.

"You're swearing in Gaelic now? I'll be careful as to what I say around you from now on." She teased and he grinned. He finished his patch up and smoothed the small bandage over her right eye gently before drawing it away quickly. She stiffened but smiled and hoped down from the stool. The door went and Charlie rolled her eyes.

"John's probably forgotten his keys again..." She muttered. He stood and moved to the door of the living room and gazed downstairs.

"I'll get it." He said and she nodded, disappearing to her room. He walked down the stairs and opened the door to reveal a person he'd hope half to hell he wouldn't have had to see again. He stood aside and let him through, stalking irritably back up the stairs to survey the damage to the apartment. Charlei appeared from her room, tugging a brush through her now medium length red hair. She was dressed in a pair of old jeans and a vintage Woodstock t-shirt obviously belonging to her deceased brother. Her feet were enclosed in a pair of black heels of about three inches. The remains of the window lay around the room. Her eyes flew wide at the sight of their visitor and swore softly.

"Shit! Mycroft, what on earth are you doing here?" She asked snootily and Sherlock was happy to hear the terseness in her tone. Mycroft frowned but extended his hand towards her.

"Miss Myers, I had hoped to settle a few differences between us considering the proposition I have for your and my brother." He said and she sighed. Planting a smile on her face she shook his hand.

"Tea?" She asked and he shook his head. Sherlock had to hand it to the man, he could be a gentleman when it suited him… right now however it was in his own best intentions for Charlie to remain angry at his brother.

"Hi John." She said quickly as their final flat mate arrived home at last and nodded tensely at Sherlock who simply sat irritably in an arm chair. Mycroft also sat and began to explain to Sherlock about something called the 'Bruce-Partington plans'. Sherlock watched Charlie move to sit on the couch to listen, ignoring Mycroft's evident dislike of her presence. Sherlock looked up at Mycroft and decided to play a little.

"How's the diet?" He quipped and his older brother frowned.

"Fine." Mycroft answered, annoyed.

"Sherlock this case is of National importance, don't make me order you." He said and Shelrock snorted. The last time his brother had tried Sherlock had gone into hiding for over a year… his brother hadn't ever tried again.

"I'd like to see you try. Why can't you do it anyway? Too low level?"

"I can't afford to be away from the office, not with the Korean elections so..." Mycroft said and Charlie whistled.

"Exactly how involved in politics are you Mycroft?" She asked and the man smiled. He looked over at her and smirked.

"That is classified, unless you'd like to guess." He said and she frowned.

"Oh so you're the political keeper of the broom closet… no one really knows what the hell you do but the whole place would inevitably fall to pieces if you weren't around." She returned smartly and Sherlock grinned.

"Sums you up to a t Mikey." He said and his older brother scowled.

"Anyway, cases like this involve 'legwork'. At least consider it?" Mycroft demanded and Sherlock looked away to stare at Charlie to gauge her reaction. Damningly her face was blank. He looked away and his brother stood slowly.

"Well I have to get going. Charlotte, are you all right?" Mycroft asked, genuinely concerned when her fringe floated out of the way and her bandage was seen. She nodded, her own expression shocked at his question.

"Yes, it was just a scratch. As you can see the windows exploded...I'm fine though." She said quickly and he nodded.

"Good." He smiled.

"Sherlock you really should consider that case. Good bye." He said and turned to face Charlie.

"Charlotte, it was good to see you again. Watch out for yourself my dear." He said and Sherlock scowled darkly at the carpet. Looking up he saw Charlie smiling at Mycroft, a genuine smile that he had to work hard to obtain. His stomach sank and he grabbed his violin. John was watching him and Charlie showed his brother out. At her return Sherlock screeched loudly on his violin, the violet notes ringing through the apartment and echoing the foulness of his mood.

"Well that proves it then." John said quietly and Charlie squinted at him curiously.

"Proves what?" She asked.

"That Sherlock is human after all. Sibling rivalry, nice." He said and she chuckled. Sherlock was about to retort when his phone rang.

"Hello?" He said and a deep sigh echoed at the end.

"Sherlock, its Lestrade. We need you down at the station, bring the others." Came the irritated response.

"On our way." He said and snapped the phone shut. Within moments all three were out the door and hailing a cab, Scotland Yard on their minds.

They followed Lestrade down the corridor, ignoring the looks they got, they were used to being regarded as Scotland Yard's resident freak show, and listened to the Detective Inspector as he spoke.

"So that explosion near your flat-" He asked flatly.

"Hmm, gas leak right?" Sherlock said.

"No actually it seems it wasn't. You see all that was left was a strong box… a very strong box, this was inside it." He handed them an envelope with 'Sherlock Holmes' written on it,

"We've scanned it it's not rigged." He said firmly.

"How reassuring." Sherlock said sarcastically. He handed the envelope to Charlie who flipped it casually in her hands.

"What do you see?" He asked as she looked at it.

"Nice handwriting. It was definitely a she judging by the form, nibbed pen and probably Parker judging by the ink..." She said smoothly. Sherlock nodded.

"Veridian nib, Bohemian stationary." She said and handed it back to him carefully. He opened the envelope and out fell a brand new iPhone, pink and shiny. Al four stared at it in shock.

"That's the phone from the cabbie case." John said and Charlie nodded.

"What a Study In Pink?" Lestrade asked and Charlie couldn't help but laugh at the distasteful look on Sherlock's face.

"Hear that Sherlock? He's read the blog." John said proudly.

"We've all read it. Did you really not know that the Earth goes round the Sun?" Lestrade asked primly and Sherlock ignored him sternly, examining the phone.

"It's not the same phone, someone's gone to great lengths to make it look like it though..." He said distantly. He touched the screen. It came alive and Charlie leaned closer to listen. He breathed in her scent and an odd picture formed in his mind as he did so. Tangled sheets, moving bodies and a whispered phrase. He shook his head and tried to focus… damn his imagination.

"One new message – Beep,Beep,Beep,Beep,Beep..."

A picture of a shabby looking flat showed up on the screen. Charlie's eyes widened slightly.

"Oh shit." She murmured and put her hands on her hips.

"What?" Lestrade demanded and she looked up at him.

"I know this code. It's an ancient method of threatening people." She said and Sherlock noded.

"Some would send dried melon seeds, orange pips..." he finished and she nodded at him unhappily.

"It's going to happen again." Sherlock said firmly and suddenly Charlie's knees trembled and she slumped down against the wall behind her, looking as if someone had suddenly knocked the wind from her. Sherlock looked over at her in shock and instantly crouched beside her

"Charlotte?" He demanded and she looked up at him weakly.

"Sherlock I know that place, on the phone. That's the flat below Aunty Em's! What if they blow her up? This can't be happening." She muttered and covered her face with her hands.

"Charlie!" he yelled and she looked up at him in shock, as did the rest of Scotland Yard. Her enormous green orbs were wide with panic. He placed a hand on her shoulder and gently tugged her to her feet. She stood and leaned against him.

"Do you honestly think I'm going to let them, whoever they are, blow up your aunt?" He demanded and she frowned.

"You better bloody well not." She growled and he grinned.

"Focus please, you're of no use when you're panicking." He commanded and she nodded, taking a few steadying breaths.

"Sorry to interrupt your little moment but what exactly is going to happen again?" A familiar voice called from beside them and the pair turned to see a smirking Donovan looking in on the room.

"BOOM!" Sherlock said before gently grasping Charlie by the arm. He inwardly smiled when she slid her hand into the crook of his arm and followed without complaint.

"Come on John, Lestrade." He yelled over his shoulder.

Donovan POV:

Sally watched them go. Her eyes were wide when they fell on the contact between the freak and that poor girl. In all her years knowing the annoying detective she'd never seen him make any sort of contact towards another person let alone a woman… many had believed him, at best, gay and, at worst, asexual. She cocked a brow at a female college who smirked at her in return.

"Since when did he do physical contact? Dimmock's probably right, I bet they're shagging." She said and the woman titled her ehad to look after the couple.

"Maybe… if it weren't a fact that that man has probably never shagged a woman in his life I'd believe you. That poor girl." She murmured and Sally nodded.

"Yeah, poor girl." She muttered and sat down at her desk to file yet another report.

Charlie POV:

They burst into their home and knocked on Aunty Em's door. A few seconds later her aunt appeared and opened the door. She smiled at her niece and then frowned at the sight of Lestrade behind her… she'd never fully forgiven the man for his previous invasion of her home.

"Aunty Em?" Charlie asked and the woman looked back at her.

"Oh Charlie dear, what's the matter sweetheart? You look more than a little flustered, if it's that boy again it's going straight to his rent." She said sternly and Charlie cracked a small smile despite the situation.

"Can we have the key to that flat?" She gestured with her finger.

"We need to have a look inside."

Her aunt nodded and handed her the key. Charlie grasped it and turned away. She walked to the door and quickly unlocked both locks, throwing the door open.

"Thanks Aunty Em!" She called over her shoulder before she disappeared inside, followed by the three men.

Translations

Slat – Prick

Cac – Shit

Go raibh maith agaibh – Thank you (for more than one person)

Dun dun dun! OMG I've only got a few weeks to go before the next season airs here in Australia! Dear god wish me luck in getting this damn thing done. Reviews are always welcome and I thank each and every one of you for your constant support of these stories.