Phoebe was home in the kitchen of the Hunt family manor.

She often liked to bake when she was bored so she decided to make an apple pie.

She remembered the first time she had let Sherlock taste her pie and it made her smile.

Sherlock flooded her thoughts once again and she felt herself smiling. It was a genuine smile.

No matter how angry she was at him, especially after admitting that he kept all of her letters without responding to a single one, she had missed him so much.

Phoebe hummed a soft tune to herself as she pulled the pie out of the brick oven.

She thought about what Sherlock has said to her.

'I trust you.'

Even just thinking about it made her heart flutter with joy. Then another thought came to mind.

'Here. There's a place I started renting. If you ever want to visit, this is the address.'

Phoebe tried to remember the address he had written down on the paper.

"What was that number?" She asked herself as she pulled her apron off. "212? No, it was definitely 221B. Baker Street, right? That sounds right. 221B Baker Street."

She then turned to go upstairs, planning on getting changed while the pie cooled down.

'He said I could visit whenever. It has been a few weeks. Maybe I could bring him some pie. I'm sure he'd like that,' Phoebe thought to herself as she trailed up the stairs, nodding to two of the servants cleaning the hall.

She closed the door to her room before opening her closet.

She decided on a maroon dress with a black pair of boots. She had on the necklace that she always wore. It had been her Aunt Clara's before it was given to her.

She slipped on her matching shawl before turning to go back to the kitchen.

"Phoebe!" A voice called to her and she turned to see her younger brother run up to her.

"What do you need, Theo?" Phoebe asked as she looked at him with a smile.

"Well, I saw that you baked a pie and I was wondering if I could have a slice. Please?" He looked at her with an adorable gleam in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Theo, but that pie is for somebody else," she replied and he slumped. "However, if you would like, you can help me make another pie tonight. Then you can have as many slices as you want. How about that?"

That made the young teen brighten. "Yes! I'll help!"

"Wonderful," Phoebe replied as she turned to go back in the direction of the kitchen. "Oh, and by the way, if mother or father ask where I am, just tell them that I'm visiting someone and I'll be back after dinner."

"Alright! Are you going to see a boy?" Theo asked to which Phoebe nodded and he gasped. "Really? I was only joking."

"Oh, it's nothing like that, really. I would rather be shot dead than marry this man. I used to know him when I was a child and I only recently met him again. I just want to catch up and see how he's doing." She wasn't about to admit to a fourteen year old that she was going to possibly be discussing a murder, though she was sure he would be absolutely intrigued and beg to come with.

Theo shrugged before hugging Phoebe quickly. "I'll see you tonight then. Be safe!"

"I will be. I promise," Phoebe assured, proceeding to make her way down into the kitchen.

After retrieving the apple pie, she made her way out into the city. She wandered around London for a bit, not being familiar with where Baker street was located

She approached a vendor with a warm smile. "Excuse me, but would you mind telling me how to get to Baker Street from here?"

The lady looked up and nodded as she put down her newspaper. "Yeah, just go up the street a bit and make a right. go straight for five blocks then make another right. Go down two more blocks and then you should reach the street."

"Thank you so very much. Here," Phoebe pulled out two shillings and gave them to the lady. "I appreciate the help."

The lady looked shocked but gave a huge smile and nodded. "It's no problem at all miss. Any time."

With that, Phoebe followed the directions the lady had given her and within fifteen minutes, she was on Baker Street.

"221B... 221B..." Phoebe scanned the building numbers on the street as she looked for the correct flat. "Ah, here we go."

She crossed the street after spotting the address she was looking for. She knocked on the front door and waited patiently.

The door opened to a woman in a pink dress, her brown hair pulled up into a nice updo.

"Are you another ditzy candidate Sherlock sent here? Because I'll tell you something, I'm not stupid and I will not be swindled by some fraud!" The lady snapped and Phoebe took a step back.

"Oh, no, I wasn't sent here by Sherlock. I actually just came to speak with him. Is he around at the moment?" Phoebe asked politely, feeling a bit awkward after being barked at.

"So you're not here to be his flat mate?" The lady questioned, looking Phoebe up and down skeptically.

Phoebe couldn't help but laugh. "Absolutely not! I would probably end up murdering him within the first week, if not the first day."

The lady's expression softened a bit at that.

"I used to know Sherlock when we were young. He told me that this is where he was living now so I came to pay him a visit and chat about a few things," Phoebe confessed and the lady nodded.

"Well, I'm afraid he's not here at the moment, however you are welcome to come in and wait for him. I can't imagine he'll be gone for too much longer. My name is Martha Hudson. I'm Sherlock's landlady. It's a pleasure to meet you," the lady introduced as she held out a hand. "Please pardon my prior rudeness."

"There's no need to apologize. I imagine it's hard to keep your sanity around Sherlock. I speak from experience. I'm Phoebe. Phoebe Hunt," Phoebe returned the introduction as she shook Martha's hand.

"Come on, in. You can stay until he comes home. Marthe held the door open and Phoebe walked in with a smile.

Phoebe loojed at her surroundings and smiled at the very welcoming feeling. She was led up to a flat which Martha opened and they went into the dining area.

"I brought pie, if you'd like a slice," Phoebe offered with a smile as she sat down at the table.

Martha perked up the offer and grabbed two plates. "Pie? So you must be the girl Sherlock always talks about."

Phoebe paused and looked over at Martha, her eyes widening a bit. "What?"

"Yeah, he always talks about a girl that he calls Phee. I'm assuming that's you. Said you bake the best pies in London. He keeps a photo of the two of you on the mantel," Martha said as she motioned to the picture in question.

Phoebe felt her cheeks heat up as she saw the picture with a bundle of envelopes beside it. She stood up and walked over to the fireplace. She picked up the letters and saw that they were all sent by her.

'So he wasn't lying,' she thought to herself as she brushed her fingers over the top envelope. Then her eyes fell on a letter that was sitting on top of an envelope.

"He reads those constantly. Not sure why. He never lets me touch them," Martha said as she cut out two slices of pie, one for each of them. "So, you said you knew Sherlock when you were children?"

"Yeah. His brother tutored me. He taught me a bunch of things too. He was always a jackass though, if you were wondering," Phoebe admitted with a light laugh. "But I did miss the time we spent together."

"Well-" Martha began when the door opened.

"Mrs. Hudson, I've- Phoebe?" Sherlock walked in and immediately locked eyes with the woman standing in front of the fireplace. "You actually came."

"Yes, I was hoping to speak to you about somethings. Oh, and I made you apple pie," Phoebe replied as she gestured to the dessert on the table.

Sherlock's face brightened immediately and he looked like a kid on Christmas. "Really?! You are the best!"

He dashed over and immediately dished himself a slice, though it was more like two slices in one. After taking a bite, Sherlock clapped giddily.

"Good?" Phoebe laughed at his excitement.

"Amazing!" He quickly scarfed down the sweet treat as Phoebe took a seat next to him at the table. "So, what did you come here to talk about?"

"Sherlock, don't talk with your mouth full." Phoebe swatted him arm. "But, I'm here because I was hoping you maybe found out more about the murder on the Noahtic. I also was just curious as to how you've been lately."

Sherlock swallowed quickly and folded his hands with his elbows on the table. "Actually, I do have a theory. It makes sense that there would've been a mastermind behind Count Enders. That man was very clearly dead for many hours before and with what you heard, he was only making sure that he was dead."

"Well, I also may have just misheard him. My information isn't absolutely certain," Phoebe admitted, looking down.

"I told you before, I trust you. Have more faith in yourself," Sherlock scolded her lightly. "Anyways, he thought there was a reason to make sure the man was dead which means he had reason to believe that he was still alive. Someone else had to have made him believe that."

"So a whole other party was involved in this murder. That really complicates things," Phoebe said as she put a knuckle to her chin.

"Would you want to help me out with this case?" Sherlock asked as he looked at her hopefully. "Even though it won't pay the bills this time, I'm extremely intrigued by this particular case."

"This time? What are you talking about?" Phoebe questioned as she put her finger tips on the edge of the table.

"Oh, that's right! I'm a detective now. The world's foremost and only consulting detective," Sherlock replied, grinning proudly.

Phoebe hummed and nodded, not surprised at all. "You were always quick to figure things out. So, you really want my help on this case?"

"Of course I do! You helped me when it was all just for fun! So now you can help me with the real thing," Sherlock said as he took another bite of his pie. "Plus, I know I can rely on you. I don't know about the new guy."

"New guy?" Phoebe raised an eyebrow and looked around for Martha who seemed to have left the flat.

"A friend of mine is sending a man to meet me and Mrs Hudson tomorrow to be a possible flat share," Sherlock answered to which Phoebe sat back.

"Do you made friends finally," Phoebe teased as she smiled at him.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "We were friends."

"No, you were very adamant on that. We were not friends," Phoebe reminded as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Well, you're back now so we can be friends now," Sherlock replied, continuing to stuff his face.

"I'm back? You're the one who left and didn't say a word to me for nine years," Phoebe said, giving him a side eye as a grimace passed her lips.

Sherlock slumped as he pouted. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I should've wrote to you. But that doesn't mean I forgot about you. I told you I wouldn't. I even kept this."

Phoebe watched as he pulled the locket out of his left pocket. She looked at it and her eyes widened.

"I always keep it with me. I never leave home without it. It's like a good luck charm, not that it actually gives luck. Luck doesn't exist," he spoke after Phoebe gently took it from him.

She popped it open and saw the photo of them which made her smile. "So you actually kept it... I was honestly convinced that you would've hated it, but I didn't know what else to get you."

"Well you didn't need to get me anything. However, I am very grateful," Sherlock told her after wiping his mouth with a hankerchief. "But anyways, you are still living at your family's manor, yes?"

"Yes, I am, why?" Phoebe questioned as she turned her gaze from the locket to Sherlock.

"Hmm, that would take too much time each day. I think you should move into a flat around here. Perhaps the flat downstairs will suit you," Sherlock rambled on as he leaned back in his chair.

"What are you on about?" Phoebe looked at him with utter confusion.

"I could talk to Mrs. Hudson for you since she owns that flat as well. She just recently kicked out the last tennant of that flat so it is available. I think that-"

"Sherlock, hold on. What are you even talking about?" Phoebe interrupted him to which he looked at her with a smile.

"I'm saying that you should move into the flat downstairs. That way you can help me with cases and bake pies and- well you get the gist. We'll live closer to each other, like when we were kids," Sherlock answered as he leaned forward against the table.

Phoebe's eyes widened a bit as she stared at him. "You actually want me close to you?"

"Well of course. Why wouldn't I?" He raised an eyebrow as he finished his last bite of pie.

"I thought you were annoyed by my presence. Obviously you can tolerate me a little, but you always just so irritated whenever you spent time with me. I just thought that, you know, you hated my company," Phoebe admitted as she fiddled with the locket in her hand. "And this is really sudden. I've only just found you again and you already want me to move in downstairs."

"That was back then! And I want to be closer to you like we used to be. It'll be easier for us to work on cases together!" Sherlock beamed and Phoebe let out a soft sigh.

"I'll think about it, Sherlock. I'm not gonna say yes just yet. I still have to talk to my family. I can't just leave them. Especially Theo," Phoebe replied as she handed him back the locket.

"Isn't he like fifteen now though? He should be fine on his own," Sherlock argued as he got up to grab a cup of water.

"He's fourteen now and he would be alright on his own, but still. I'm close to my brother and I don't want to just abandon him like that," Phoebe countered while her eyes followed the detective.

Sherlock huffed and turned towards her again. "Well then let him visit. I mean I can't force you to do it. I'm just giving you an option. I'm not trying to take you away from your family. I know how important family is to you."

Phoebe hummed as she relaxed in the chair, She thought about the offer and sighed softly. She would love to be around Sherlock again, but she also didn't want to leave her little brother. This was also quite fast. She had only just found him again and he already wanted her to move to be closer to him. She knew that he liked familiarity. It was the only reason he kept her around when they were younger.

After her being around him constantly, he got used to the feeling and it bothered him when she would leave. She wondered if that was the reason he didn't write back to her. Not responding to act like she wasn't there. Even if he didn't want to be friends with her, her being in his life was always a constant until he left for university.

"I still want your help. You aren't opposed to befriending someone who does have an interest in befriending you, right?" Sherlock gave a small grin.

Phoebe returned a laugh as she stood up. "Prove yourself."

"Huh?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow as he down on the plush love seat in the living room.

"I wouldn't just befriend any random bloke off the street. So prove yourself and I'll see if I want to be friends with you, Sherlock," Phoebe explained to which he nodded.

"Got it! So you'll help me?" Sherlock questioned.

"Are you sure you actually need my help?" She remained unconvinced, knowing that he was perfactly capable of solving this mystery on his own.

"Need your help? No, I could definitely solve this by myself. However, I would like to hear your input, and seeing as you were witness to the murder on the Noahtic, you are currently one of the best candidates. The one I can trust the most," Sherlock answered.

"I'll help you," Phoebe gave her response to which Sherlock perked up.

"Great!" He leapt off the loveseat and bounded over to her.

"I have to go though. I want to be home before dinner," she said and she leaned up to peck his cheek quickly before turning towards the door.

Sherlock cleared his throat and nodded quickly. "Mhm. Just come back tomorrow and, uh, we'll talk more. Goodbye, Phee."

"Keep the pie by the way, and share it with Mrs. Hudson." She waved to him with a closed eye smile. "Bye Sherly."