Sherlock walked up to the front door of the complex and opened the front door, being met with the view of Phoebe trying to push a huge box into her flat.

He huffed out a light laugh as he watched her before stepping forward. "Would you like some help?"

Phoebe stood up, panting very slightly. "No, I've got this."

She just turned back around kept pushing.

Sherlock stood there, watching her struggle. He found her stubborness quite amusing.

After a few minutes, Phoebe dropped her head and stood straight. "Can I have some help, please?"

"Now you wanna ask?"

"Shut up? You gonna help or not?" Phoebe glared at him.

"Alright, move to the other sides," Sherlock said, letting her move to she could slip into her flat on the other side of the box.

Sherlock began pushing the box while Phoebe pulled it from the other side.

Eventually, they successfully got the box into her bedroom.

"What is in this thing?" Sherlock asked as he took a breath.

"My new bed frame. My back does not appreciate sleeping on the lilo every night," Phoebe replied as she leaned against the wall.

"Need help putting it together?"

Phoebe sighed, not wanting to spend more time with him than she had to, but she knew she might need the help.

"Do you have the tools to put this thing together?" She asked as she looked at the floor.

"I would assume so. Let's open it and find out," Sherlock said and Phoebe grabbed a pocket knife from her purse next to her deflated lilo.

She opened the box and Sherlock moved her lilo out of the room so they had room to set up the frame.

Once they knew the tools that would be needed, Sherlock got the tools from his flat and they began working to set it up.

The room was silent, save for the sounds from them working, but Sherlock broke the peace.

"So, I was wondering if-"

"No," Phoebe said immediately.

"You don't even know what I'm gonna ask." Sherlock frowned as he looked up at her.

"You were gonna ask if I would go on a case with you. My answer is no," Phoebe replied, refusing to look up at him.

"But you went to college for law enforcement, didn't you?" Sherlock asked.

"Why are you trying to make small talk? Let's just get this done," Phoebe said as she continued to connect to the metal framing to the wooden head board.

Sherlock wanted to argue that they could have a conversation, but he knew it was pointless. She was still upset with him and he knew that she might never fully fogive him.

🔎

Phoebe was working at her new bakery and the day was going absolutely awful.

She woke up late, sliced her finger on a broken glass at her flat in the morning, spilled her tea all over herself, and she hurt her wrist from catching herself awkwardly after tripping over her own feet. That was only the stuff that happened before she left her flat.

She was so stressed out and on the verge of tears, but she pushed through it.

"Hello, what can I do for you today?" She looked up at the man waiting at the counter before seeing that it was Sherlock. "And my day keeps getting better and better," she grumbled.

"I remembered you said that you were opening a new bakery so I asked Mrs Hudson where it was. She didn't know so I called Mycroft," Sherlock said quickly and Phoebe hummed.

"It's been open for a week, now what do you want?" She asked as she looked at him.

"A batch of chocolate chip fudge brownies! Those are absolutely delicious! Your grandmother's recipe is exquisite," Sherlock said and Phoebe hummed, not thinking he would remember such unimportant information.

"Coming right up," she said and went to grab the fresh batch of the chocolate chip fudge brownies.

Sherlock was studying her features, able to see that she was upset.

When she came back, he hummed. "You're upset."

"No shit, Sherlock," Phoebe said with a sigh.

Sherlock tried to read her, but he kept just getting lost and he couldn't figure out why.

"You can't figure it out, can you?" Phoebe put a hand on her hip.

"No..." Sherlock stared into her chocolatey brown eyes. It pissed him off to not be able to focus on anything specific. It was just fuzzy.

She put her hand up and he saw the bandage. "Focus, Sherlock. Figure it out."

"Beautiful..."

"What?" Phoebe was confused thinking he was calling her beautiful.

"I can see it! It's beautiful! I can never read you, but I can see that you cut you thumb, I assume on the glass that smashed this morning in your flat. It was quite loud. You-"

Phoebe smiled and Sherlock couldn't think all of a sudden. His thoughts were fuzzy. He still noticed everything about everyone, but as soon as Phoebe smiled, he was off guard, distracted.

"Stop smiling," Sherlock said quickly and this made Phoebe frown.

"What? Why?"

"Because it's distracting. I'm trying to read you and I can't now so stop smiling," Sherlock elaborated.

Phoebe kept her frown and sighed. He told her to close her eyes as well, so she did.

"You changed twice today, you hurt your wrist, presumably falling while you rushed around because you were late," Sherlock deduced and Phoebe opened her eyes.

"How did you figure-"

"I said close your eyes. They're distracting. I know that you changed twice because when you spoke to Mrs Hudson you said that you spilled your tea on you, but your outfit was clean," Sherlock said and Phoebe looked down.

"Oh, yeah," Phoebe rubbed her arm.

"Um, sir, are you in line?" A man asked Sherlock from behind.

"Yes, I just have to pay." Sherlock grabbed twenty pounds out of his wallet and handed it to Phoebe.

Phoebe went to make change for it, but Sherlock was gone with the box of brownies.

She hummed and put the money back before turning to serve everyone else in line.

🔎

Sherlock went to find John on the bench where he left him.

John came up behind him. "Where have you been?! I was talking to you and then all of the sudden you disappeared!"

"Brownie?" Sherlock offered and John raised an eyebrow but took one.

"Where did you- oh this is good!" John took a bite and smiled. "Wait, is this one of those brownies?"

"Nope! This is a Phoebe brownie! I went to Phoebe's new bakery!" Sherlock shoved a brownie into his mouth, fiddling with a business card he had taken from the counter of the bakery. "Shall we be off?"

"Yes, Lestrade called. Suicide, possible murder," John said and Sherlock smiled.

"I love those types of cases! Let's go John!"

The two ran off and called Lestrade to find out where the crime scene was.

Suddenly, John got a call.

🔎

Phoebe was taking orders when her work phone rang.

One of her employees, Lucinda, answered it. "Ma'am, it's for you."

Phoebe walked over and took the phone. "Hello?"

"Phoebe?" Sherlock's voice came through the phone which made her groan.

"Sherlock? Really? You were just here. Why are you calling me on this phone?" She asked quickly, annoyance dripping from her tone.

"Because you still have my number blocked. I need you to come quick. Meet me on Medway Street," Sherlock said in an urgent voice.

"Why do you need me?" Phoebe asked quickly.

"I just do. Get here quickly!" He said in an urgent voice.

"Okay! I'm coming!" Phoebe hung up before she looked at Lucinda, Peter, Chloe, and Presley, her employees.

"Guys, I have to go. I trust you to not burn this place down. Lucinda, you're the boss, but please work together. I'll be back as soon as I can," Phoebe said as she quickly got her coat and purse.

"What's going on? That man seemed serious." Luci looked at her boss.

"I have no idea, but I'll let you know when I get back," Phoebe said before she left.

She got a cab and went to Medway Street. As soon as she saw the police were there, she thought something had happened to Sherlock or John.

She ran over and a woman stopped her.

"You can't come in here. This is a crime scene," The woman said.

"Um, I was called to come. My name is Phoebe Hunt. Sherl-"

"Phoebe?" A man with grey hair walked over. "Sergeant Donovan, this is Phoebe Hunt, Sherlock's girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" Donovan raised an eyebrow.

"Um, no, absolutely not. Neighbor. He just called me and told me to come here." Phoebe sighed and the guy let her in.

"This way," the man said as he led her to Sherlock Holmes.

"Sherlock! There better be a bloody good reason I'm here! I was at work!" Phoebe glared at him.

"John got a call. His sister got into a car crash. Surprisingly, it was one that she didn't cause. John left so I need an assistant! It was either you or Anderson and I refuse to work with Anderson!" Sherlock explained.

"Well, what if I refuse to work with you?" Phoebe crossed her arms.

"But you have to Phoebe! You aren't going to let me suffer like this!" Sherlock glared at Anderson.

"Why should I help you?" Phoebe asked through gritted teeth.

"Because you were a better assistant then John. Don't tell him I said that," Sherlock said quickly.

"Oh, I won't tell him that you said that. Under one condition though," Phoebe said with a grin.

"What are your terms?"

"You will not call me unless it's important and I mean really important. Also, no more sneaking into my flat in the middle of the night for the cookies on my table," Phoebe said and Sherlock huffed.

"Then I demand a batch of chocolate chip cookies on my table by tonight," Sherlock stated.

"Do you have twelve pounds?"

"You're gonna make me pay?" Sherlock pouted.

"Sherlock, I'm running a business and we aren't friends. Yes, I'm making you pay," Phoebe said to him.

"But John will be having some too so we would have to split the bill," Sherlock countered.

"Fine, give me five pounds. John is my friend so he gets it for free," Phoebe said and Sherlock huffed.

"Fine, here." Sherlock grabbed his wallet and gave her five pounds.

"They'll be on your table by dinner." Phoebe put the money in her pocket.

"Um, hello? Possible murder here. Can we get to work, please," the grey haired man said and Phoebe looked over at him.

"Sorry, sir. By the way, I never caught your name," Phoebe said to the man.

"Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade. Pleasure to meet you," he introduced as he held out his hand for her to shake.

"Pleasure is all mine," Phoebe said as she shook his hand with a smile.

"Now, let's get started," Sherlock said and Phoebe nodded.

"Was there a note?" Phoebe asked Lestrade as they walked up to the room.

"Yes, but his diary made him sound like such a happy man. That's why I called Sherlock," the inspector said. Anderson walked over to give Lestrade a bag.

"Diary?" Sherlock stopped and Lestrade nodded.

"Where is this diary? I'll need to see the note as well," Phoebe said.

"We already inspected the diary. It's clean," Anderson butted in.

"Get the lady the diary," Sherlock said and Lestrade nodded to Anderson.

Phoebe smiled as she looked at the body. She hadn't done this in years.

She was back in the game.