"Good evening, Miss Watson." The man said, turning to face me.

"Who are you?" I demanded, leaving the door open, so I could easily leave if need be.

"Close the door, Miss Watson, you're letting in an awful draught." He drawled, nodding towards the door.

"Who are you?" I repeated, not moving or shutting the door.

"Very well, Miss Watson, I am only here to ask you about your association with Sherlock Holmes." He told me.

"What do you mean?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Your association with Sherlock Holmes, do you intend to continue with it?" He asked me.

"I don't see why this is any of your business." I replied.

"It is my business, Miss Watson, as I have an interest in Sherlock Holmes and can offer you a considerable sum of money to relay information to me of what he is up to." He explained.

"Well, I'm sorry to say I have no interest in you offer, good day sir, now if you would be so kind as to leave my apartment before I call the police, that would be much appreciated." I declined, stepping out the way of the door, slightly surprising myself with my new found confidence. The man looked slightly stunned at my statement but left all the same.

I closed the door and slid down the back of it, trying to regulate my breathing as tears of shock welled up in my eyes. I didn't feel safe in my flat for the night so I composed myself as best as I could before I grabbed a backpack, shoved a set of clothes and pajamas in my bag. I then headed out of the door, locking it behind me, before I left the building and headed to Baker Street.

*****

I got out of the taxi, which I had gotten as it was late and I didn't want to walk, and walked up to the door of 221B. I knocked urgently and the door swung open. "Chloe?" John questioned, looking quite confused by my unplanned appearance. I looked up at him, tears stinging my eyes as he let me in and led me upstairs to the flat. "What happened Chloe?" He asked as soon as we were inside.

"I got home and the door was unlocked. I went in and there was a man inside. He offered me money for information on Sherlock." I explained once I had calmed down a bit, though tears were still running down my face.

"Mycroft" John grumbled, sitting me down and sitting next to me, still hugging and consoling me. Sherlock's head snapped up at the name and his eyes soon found my crying figure.

"What has my brother done now?" He directed the question towards John.

"He broke into Chloe's flat and offered her the same thing he offered me." John explained.

"Wait, your brother?" I asked, raising my head to look at Sherlock.

"Yes, my brother, also known as the British government, now if you'd excuse me, I have phone call to make." He told me before getting up and going to his bedroom.

"Can I stay here tonight? I don't really want to go back to my flat. I don't mind sleeping on the sofa." I asked my cousin after he had calmed me down and we had sat talking for a while.

"Of course, I wasn't planning on sending you home anyway." He reassured me, once again pulling me into a hug. We pulled apart and I went to the bathroom to get changed into my comfy clothes which I used for pajamas, while John went up to his bedroom to get a spare blanket and pillows for me on the sofa.

I emerged from the bathroom and made my way to the living room, where Sherlock and John were sat in their chairs. I made my way over to the sofa and sat on my phone. I had text Elliot earlier and told him about my encounter. At first, he wanted to call the police, but then I explained there was no point as he was Sherlock's brother and apparently, 'the British government'.  He had just text me back saying that I didn't have to go in tomorrow as they were rehearsing parts that I wasn't in. I was quite glad as I didn't really want to go in after tonight. Soon enough Sherlock went to bed, bidding us goodnight, and John soon did the same. After their departure, I settled myself onto the sofa and soon fell asleep.

*****

I awoke before either of the boys and went to get changed into the jeans and shirt that I had brought with me. I came out of the bathroom and saw Sherlock sat on his chair once again, plucking a violin. "I didn't know you played." I stated, leaning against the door frame in between the kitchen and living room.

"I didn't know you were out of the bathroom." He returned, briefly glancing up to look at me before going back to his violin.

"Yes you did." I said raising my eyebrow at him. Having spent some time with Sherlock, I soon came to realise that he was very aware of everything around him. John had even told me about his first encounter with Sherlock, where he deduced his army career and his relationship with Harry, even if he thought she was his brother. It was impressive, but he had yet to deduce me and I was quite interested as to what he can learn about me.

"Yes I did, I also know that you are not from London, and have only been here for three years. You moved here when John was sent to Afghanistan and reconnected with your old friend Elliot. You have not made many friends during your time in London and the ones you do have, you know from the theatre. You have not talked to most of your family since your move to London, possibly due to your busy schedule, more likely due to them not approving of your acting career. You miss them and still care about them, but can't reach out as you chose to pursue a career that you love and therefore you lost your family's respect. Elliot has become the closest thing to family you've had for three years and now that John has come back into your life, you don't want to screw it up with him." He rambled, leaving me gaping.

I had never expected him to get so much. Sure John could have told him some of the stuff, but even he doesn't know about my relationship with the rest of the family. He doesn't know that I haven't talked to them in years, or why I haven't, so how could Sherlock possibly know? "How do you know about my family?" I asked him, voicing the question which had been floating around my head.

"Well, you didn't know that John had been injured and dismissed from Afghanistan until you bumped into him, yet you are very close, so why weren't you told? You don't talk to your family. It could be due to you being very busy, but you have still found time to reconnect with John. It is more likely that your family wanted you to have a more stable, conventional job and you went against them. Finally, you asked about Harriet when you were catching up with John, which shows that you still care about them, but can't reach out to them." He explained.

"That was unbelievable!" I exclaimed, my eyes wide.

"That's not what people usually say." He told me.

"What do people usually say?" I asked, curious as to how anyone could not think that was amazing.

"Piss off." He answered.

*****

John soon came down stairs and joined us. We talked for hours before I realised I should probably go home. John had offered to let me stay another night, but I refused saying that I'd be fine and would call if anything happened. Besides, Sherlock had reassured me that his brother would not be visiting me anytime soon, so I was quite content with returning home for the night. I bid the men goodbye, hugging John, before leaving Baker Street and heading back home.

I arrived home to a locked door and empty flat, thankfully. I kicked off my shoes and hung up my coat, heading to kitchen for a cup of tea and whatever food I had in. I reached the fridge and saw that it was pretty much empty. I went to the cupboards and found them in the same state. I had enough in for a sandwich, which I ate quite quickly, and made a mental note to go shopping tomorrow, before I headed to my desk and picked up where I left off with the script.

At some point, I got a text from Elliot, reminding me that the theatre was shut for a few days due to some maintenance work which was going on, which meant that I had a few days of not worrying about work to get some things done, including shopping. The day turned to night and my eyes became heavy. I headed to bed, still pondering over Sherlock's words about my family, which were unmistakably true.