So, even though there is a lot of Sherlock here, this is really a John imagine; and with any John image I write, Mary is not part of his life. So, don't think that John is being terrible.

John had somehow found himself in Greg's office. He was sure that he had better things to do on his day off. That he could be catching up with a million things, or nothing at all. That he could have gone for a walk on this nice spring day, or just be sat in his chair with a good book and cup of tea. But noooooooo, Sherlock had had to drag him to New Scotland Yard, for reasons only known to him; and now here he was looking out of the window, ignoring Sherlock as he kept insisting on calling Greg, Grant. Doing his best to drown out the consulting detective as he smugly told the inspector, that he must be blind if he couldn't see that the killer in his latest case, was the victim's dentist. The doctor finding himself wondering about the evening to come, if his latest attempts to find love, would be more successful than his last date. That, and if he would actually get out of there, before he was supposed to meet the lady that evening.

"Greg.........I brought you a coffee and this file..............oh, sorry........... I didn't know you had visitors." A voice came. John turning to see a woman standing in the doorway. A woman that he had never seen before. Positive that if he had, he would most certainly remember, for she cut quite the figure. Her crisp white blouse and black suit pants complimenting her curves perfectly. The doctor finding himself grinning goofily, as she looked at him and smiled.

"That's ok." Greg replied, beckoning her over. The inspector really needing the mug of coffee that she had in her hand; especially if she had made it and not Andersen. Sure, that whenever he made coffee, it was in fact just dirty dishwater from the office's kitchen sink, that was full of unwashed coffee cups. Greg really hoping that there was a little something extra in it, that would ease the pain of Sherlock.

"What......oh, er yeah, sorry................" The woman finally replied. John's smile getting even broader, as she seemed to reluctantly move her gaze from him so that she could make her way to the inspector's desk. Neither she nor John noticing Sherlock roll his eyes.

"Oh yeah.............(Y/n), this is John Watson.........." Greg introduced before he took a gulp of the coffee, happy to taste that she had indeed made the brew. The inspector pointing over to the doctor. John giving the visitor a little wave in greeting, and then instantly wanting to crawl into a hole for looking so dumb. And this..........this is Sherlock.............."

"Oooooooooh............." (Y/n) said, as she turned to look at the tall man sat in the chair.

"You're Sherlock................? Well, that would explain why a few of the uniform boys look like they have a severe case of PTSD..........." (Y/n) continued. John and Greg doing their best not to laugh at the comment. Both of them sure that they had seen the younger Holmes traumatise his fair share of officers.

Sherlock looked at the woman. Her clothes and shoes were Italian. Her perfume, French. There was a slight hint of an accent to her very British tone and as her collar moved, he could see that there was a still quite fresh scare; a scare that looked very much like it had come from a bullet impact. All of which were placing her far above the others that he usually came to contact with at the Yard. All of which made her look very much out of place. And that made him think of only one person.

"It must have hurt. You were very lucky................" Sherlock finally commented, as he looked up at (Y/n). Greg and John feeling their hearts drop into their stomachs. Both well aware of what was to come.

"What...............?"

"The bullet wound on your neck. You were very lucky detective. For it to have missed the jugular vein, the carotid artery, would be classed by some to be a miracle. You are healing quite well. I presume that is why your bosses at INTERPOL contacted my brother; they told him that needed an easier assignment until they could get you back to your real work. Undercover work. What has it been............a month since you came here..........? You don't really belong here do you............?And I can imagine that someone like Donavan has let you know that....................."

"Wow..........you really are as big an insensitive asshole as I was told. But yes, it did hurt, and I have no idea how I survived it. But I did, and your brother and Greg here were indeed nice enough to find a place for me until I'm deemed completely fit. Oh, and yes, Donovan has made it quite clear that I am not welcome. In truth I think it has more to do with Andersen looking at me, than anything. But believe me when I say, Mister Holmes, I have dealt with bigger and badder bitches than her, and I have always come out on top. Now, if you will excuse me...........I have a job to do. I would say that it was nice to meet you, Sherlock, but we both know that that would be a lie............" (Y/n) replied. Giving the consulting detective a glare that would make anyone else feel very uncomfortable, before she made her way over to John and offered him her hand to shake.

"But it was nice to meet you, Doctor Watson. Perhaps next time you come to the Yard, you might get to say something before he opens his mouth and puts both his feet in it." The detective told him, as he shook her hand. Smiling broadly at her.

"So, see you around..............Doctor Dreamy............" She added quietly with a wink, before leaving the room. John watching her disappear, unable to say a word.