"It would appear you are in fact being stalked, Susanna."

I stifle a whine. Sherlock regards my reaction and sweeps over me with observant eyes, "This is more troubling to you than I would have predicted." I massage my temples and shut my eyes.

"Well it's disturbing to find out that you're being stalked by people dressed in camo with guns, Sherlock." I snap, resting my head in my hands as my body starts to shake. Adrenaline plummeting again.

I hear John stand up and walk away quickly. Sherlock starts rummaging around, probably in his pockets for his phone. Suddenly he grabs my left hand, "What?!"

"I recall that your sweet spot for Naproxen Sodium is three pills." Sherlock presses the capsules into my hand and opens up my water bottle. My cheeks warm up without permission.

I manage a slight smile and pop them into my mouth, quickly accepting the thermos and washing them down.

"Thank you, Sherlock." John returns with an orange blanket and wraps it around my shoulders. I give him a questioning look.

"You might not have a concussion but you could be experiencing shock." I chuckle.

"Thanks."

"Now, Susanna, why would you be stalked by armed women in camouflage and black?" Sherlock probes, pumped up to work this like any other case. I blanche.

"Women?"

"Oh, yes! All three of them were women, which makes this case quite interesting!"

Rosie lets out a fuss and John relieves me, picking her up and placing his attention wholly on her. I sigh, "What if I'm not the target? It could have been Rosie or you and John."

"No, you are most certainly the target. If I were being stalked then I would have a lovely puzzle of bodies and crime to sort out," He dismisses, placing his hands together underneath his chin and focusing on me, "Let's start with your ability to sense danger, Susanna." Taking it as a prompt, I exhale.

"My Danger Antennae alert me when I am or could be in peril. I don't get the alerts often though. It's my subconscious picking up on observations of my surroundings and warning me, so my guard is normally down when it happens." I explain, shivering a little.

"Has it gone off this past week at all?" I gulp, "It has. When?"

"Just once, but I wrote it off."

"Susanna." I relent.

"I visited Thomas at his studio on Tuesday to do a bit of modeling for him. Afterwards I decided to walk home and got the feeling that I was being followed. I looked and didn't find anyone who particularly spooked me, so I didn't mind it much. The street was busy and sometimes the alerts are false alarms."

"And it would have caused a scene if they had done anything then. They're smart, and they know you're intelligent," His eyes spark and turn gray, "This is more than just stalking. They are watching and waiting to strike. That implies that you are valuable in some way to them." He continues to rattle out deductions and theories all while I sit and contemplate the fine kettle of fish I've gotten into. What will Dad do? I bite my lip and shiver. Dad works for Mycroft and is thus enabled to do just about anything, including having me whisked away at midnight without a trace if he knew I was at risk. He has done that before.

Ma will insist I return to Florida and then usher me along to West Virginia. She's got the connections to keep me in safehouses until she's positive that I'm safe.

"Susanna, you weren't listening to any of my theories were you." Sherlock breaks into my mind again and I jolt. He's standing there and staring into me like he has for a week. I shake my head.

"No." I huff, closing my eyes and resting my head in my hands again. He sits down beside me and I stiffen when he pulls the orange shock blanket tighter around me.

"For someone who can react so quickly to risky situations, you sure do have a knack for hitting your head," He clicks, "And apparently you have the worst time controlling your adrenaline levels because you experience sharp adrenaline highs that plummet shortly after the peril has passed. You might need to carry this blanket with you at all times, considering your tendency to develop migraines and experience tremors."

If not for the nth time today, my heart skips a beat as I look at Sherlock and see his eyes sparkle with emotion. He readjusts the blanket and rests his hand against my neck

"What are you doing?"

"Taking your pulse."

FYI: It is possible to get an accurate pulse from the neck. It is called a Carotid Pulse, since that is the artery you can feel pulsing. Please consider voting and commenting with feedback or criticism (as long as it's constructive)! Thanks!