A/N: So before I begin I thought I had best inform you all that this is going to be a sequel to my other fanfic which is called Walk of Mystery with Sherlock and my OC, Scarlett. I did say I was going to write a sequel and I didn't think I would be doing it as quick as this but I can't study all the time and I need something to occupy my brain and so this is going to be just that! You don't necessarily need to know what happened in a Walk of Mystery to read this, just that Sherlock ended up with Scarlett, managed to kill some bad guys (Moriarty included) and Scarlett went through a miscarriage during her accidental pregnancy with Sherlock's baby. Anyway, enough of my constant irrational babbling and onto the main show! Not sure where it is going to lead but I have many ideas and if anyone else has any thoughts then let me know! Enjoy and please do review!

...

Life with Sherlock would never be dull. That was a fact of life and anyone who knew the consulting detective knew that statement to be true. And Scarlett Jenson was well aware of that fact. Living with Sherlock was like living on a rollercoaster for your entire day. He often left at odd hours in the evening and then he often came back whilst Scarlett was out working for the law firm that employed her as a secretary. The only other sane person in the flat was John. Sherlock liked to class himself as sane, but what sane person kept heads in fridges? None that came to mind for Scarlett.

"Ah," a voice boomed when Scarlett walked into the flat that night and dropped her keys onto the coffee table as Sherlock remained laid on his sofa, eyes closed and nicotine patches on his arm. "You're back."

"Evidentially," Scarlett replied. "And what have you been doing today?"

"Oh the usual," Sherlock replied in a slow drawl. "Running around London after serial killers. They're always the best. There's always a part of them which wants to get caught which makes it so more exciting than normal killers."

"Right," Scarlett replied flatly. "Many people would consider that an abnormal thing to like."

"That's because many people in this world are too dense and similar," Sherlock informed her as she checked her mail which was on the fireplace and opened it up, yawning as she did so.

"So you keep telling me," Scarlett replied. "And the bill for the electric has come through."

"It's John's turn to pay," Sherlock informed her.

"It's your turn Sherlock," Scarlett replied. "John and I went halves on the last bill."

"It's been a quiet month. And you and John should be the ones dealing with trivial things like bills. Can you imagine the effect it would have on my brain? Having to write out all those cheques...no...I can't be doing with it. Not when there are cases around."

"Would it kill you to cook dinner?" Scarlett responded simply and walked into the kitchen and saw no form of food on the worktop or in the fridge as Sherlock jumped up from the sofa and rolled his sleeves down on his shirt, tearing off the nicotine patches.

"Would you be more impressed if I were to tell you that I am taking you out for dinner?" Sherlock asked her and she simply just shrugged and sighed and ran a hand through her hair slowly.

"I don't know Sherlock," she yawned. "It's been a long day and I can't be bothered to dress up...but the gesture was nice."

"That was the completely wrong answer," Sherlock told her and placed his hand onto the small of her back and began to steer her into the bedroom. "Now get ready, we'll go in about twenty minutes. And I don't want any complaints."

"Is there any use defying you?" Scarlett asked him and he smirked his famous smirk, pulling out his blazer from the wardrobe and shrugging into it.

"Not much use. No," he told her honestly.

...

"Sherlock," Scarlett grabbed onto the detective's arm as she stopped outside the restaurant and hissed at him.

"What is it now?" he asked her, standing on the streets of London, staring down onto his girlfriend.

"How can we afford this place?" she asked him and motioned her head to the side at the expensive restaurant where stepping into the doorway would surely cost ten pounds just for being in its presence.

"As I said," Sherlock drawled and looked down at her. "It's my treat...you've been busy recently and I could see you were stressed."

Scarlett pulled down her cream dress and fiddled with the fake large cream flower which was stuck to the side of the dress on her chest as the material flowed out to just above her knees. She pulled down the long flowing sleeves and then looked at Sherlock.

"Do I look alright?" she asked him. "People in that place...well...they're posh Sherlock..."

"Scarlett," Sherlock dropped his hand onto her cheek and kissed her free cheek. "It is my treat. And you look...well...beautiful...the dress is quite flattering on your frame."

"And you're sure you can afford it?" Scarlett raised a brow and Sherlock offered her his arm to take which she did so and they walked into the restaurant.

"Don't worry about money," he whispered. "And besides, I helped the owner out on a case and so I should be able to get us a good deal come to think about it." Sherlock turned ever so slightly frugal and Scarlett smirked at the floor. Once they had been seated-where Sherlock had asked-he looked over at Scarlett and remained emotionless for a moment as she sipped on the wine which was already at the table.

"What?" she asked him.

"Nothing," he responded.

"Quite clearly there was something," Scarlett replied. "Hence why you were staring at me like you were."

"Are you trying to fish for compliments?" Sherlock asked her and she grinned over at him.

"They never fall onto deaf ears," she replied and then began to look at the menu as her eyes opened wide at the prices. Sherlock did the same but every so often his eyes darted over Scarlett's shoulder to the outside world where he was looking for someone in particular. Something which Scarlett did not miss.

"Sherlock," she began in a serious tone. "I have something to tell you...about my work..."

"Uh," Sherlock rolled his eyes. "What mundane thing has happened in that company now?"

"Nothing," Scarlett shook her head. "In fact it could be something quite exciting I think."

"I doubt it...ah..." Sherlock's face suddenly lit up. "He's here."

"What?" Scarlett replied. "Who's here?"

"The killer. Don't turn around, it will look suspicious." Sherlock told her as his eyes remained on the man.

"So the only reason we are here is so that you can catch a killer?" Scarlett checked. She shouldn't have been surprised.

"He's been striking at eight o'clock every night. He has a pattern you see. And when you look at where he has been killing on a map then it makes a star shape...well it does so far...and the this is the fifth point exactly...that house over there is anyway...and the man entering the house looks far too...what's the word?" Sherlock asked her.

"Shady? Suspicious? Out of place?" Scarlett asked as she swirled the wine in her glass and looked on at it.

"I prefer the word suspicious," Sherlock told her. "He's too suspicious to be going in and so he has to be the killer."

Sherlock quickly pulled out his phone and began to text Lestrade quickly.

"I'll be back quickly," Sherlock told her and he stood up hastily, buttoning his blazer jacket. "And then you can tell me of this droll job thing," he waved a hand.

"Where are you going?" she asked him.

"To catch a killer. Where else?" Sherlock said and she stood up.

"You can't go alone," she told him.

"And you can't come either," he said forcefully. "Now sit down and wait for the food."

...

"Why is it," Scarlett began, "that a night out with you always end up a disaster?"

"I prefer to think of it as adding excitement to your life," Sherlock grinned. He was sat on the step of an ambulance whilst Scarlett had taken over the nurses' job of holding a cotton wool piece to his head to stop the bleeding.

"That too," she replied.

"Anyway," Sherlock changed the topic, "what is this about your job?"

"Oh yes," Scarlett suddenly remembered. "Mr High...well he wants me to train up and become a solicitor...apparently I have the potential."

"You do," Sherlock agreed. "You're not that stupid."

"Thanks," she said dryly. "And that would mean a pay rise...which would mean other things...and I think it may be more...well...satisfying to do."

"Couldn't agree more," Sherlock told her. "The law is interesting to learn."

"So you think it is a good thing?" Scarlett checked with him and he nodded.

"Completely. The job market is tough...or so John keeps telling me. Any chance of a higher paying job is a good chance for workers to take up. It is common sense."

"There's one problem Sherlock," Scarlett told him.

"Which is?"

"The firms moving," she stated.

"Oh," he said simply. "A new office building in London?"

"To Australia."