The first indication that the cavalry had indeed arrived was the loud crash as a door was kicked in followed by various voices shouting. In the little room upstairs, Sherlock and Sally tensed. Sally was stood nearest the door, making sure to take a few steps back to avoid the door when it eventually swung open. Sherlock was stood ready, though she couldn't figure out why he was holding his suit jacket behind his back. She was sure it was going to come in handy at some point, though she couldn't imagine what for.

When the door did fly open, Alan was there with a knife out and a furious look on his face. One of his accomplices was behind him, mask long forgotten it seemed, and Sally suddenly remembered his name was Jason.

"You keep an eye on him," he barked at Jason, waving his hand in Sherlock's direction before turning his attention to Sally. He held the knife out in front of him and behind him she could hear the commotion from downstairs. She hadn't anticipated the extra man, but she supposed he needed someone to prevent Sherlock from getting in his way. There was no way Alan would use him as the human shield after all, what better way to get past coppers than to use a copper. "We're gonna go for a walk Sally."

Another step forward from Alan and there was a sudden explosion of movement next to them. Sherlock had thrown his suit jacket over Jason's head, temporarily disorientating him, before charging at him and ramming him into the wall. Alan was just staring at the sight of it which gave Sally plenty of time to lunge at him. She twisted his right hand, forcing him to drop the knife with a cry. It also meant forcing his attention back on her, which resulted in a sudden punch to the face. Apparently his left hook was still pretty strong and it sent her sprawling to the floor. For a second she lay there trying to recover from the hit, but it was clearly a second too long. A new pain blossomed in her chest as something heavy pressed on her, but when she opened her mouth to scream the sound was cut off by heavy hands round her throat.

Looking up, her vision was full of Alan's furious face as he straddled her and tightened his grip. She grabbed at his hands, trying to pull them off, but it was no use. His grip was like a vice, there was no way to get air into her already burning lungs. Reaching up, she desperately tried to scratch at his face as if that would make him let go, but it served no other purpose than to annoy him like a fly buzzing around his head. Behind him, she was sure she heard a sudden thud and grunt. Sherlock and Jason were still fighting. There were still voices yelling downstairs. Everyone was distracted. There was no rescue on the way.

For a moment, Sally found herself wondering if this was it, if this was how she was going to die. She had to admit, if this was it, it wasn't how she'd expected to go. Oh she'd always had a sneaking suspicion it would be the police that killed her, but she'd always imagined it would be doing something brave or heroic. Dying on the floor being strangled by a wannabe gangster hadn't quite figured into her plan. Her vision was starting to get very fuzzy now and she wondered how much air she had left.

That was when the grip on her throat suddenly loosened and she found herself able to breathe. She tried to take in deep breaths, but just found herself coughing which in turn made her chest hurt even more. As her eyes started to focus again she realised the weight on her chest was being lifted courtesy of Sherlock having an arm wrapped very tightly around Alan's throat. He was dragging him backwards off her towards the very unconscious looking Jason and now it was Alan's turn to grab at the arm around his throat. Sherlock's face was furious looking and that grip certainly looked very tight, but she didn't really mind now. Letting her head fall back she just tried to focus on breathing again.

It wasn't long before she heard footsteps and voices shouting at the doorway. She was fairly sure she heard Lestrade shouting about Sherlock needing to let go now, which made her smile. Alan had really pissed Sherlock off and it seemed he was pretty determined to keep a hold of him. Then there was the usual shouting to get the paramedics upstairs before a very worried looking face appeared before her.

"Sally, can you hear me? We're getting you help, don't worry it's going to be fine." Lestrade was kneeling next to her looking her over, the red marks around her throat being the most concerning to him right now.

"Thanks for the rescue," she managed to mutter, her voice rough and croaky. She was sure he saw him smile as he was moved aside by the paramedics and she gladly let them start to care for her. For the first time in quite a few hours, she could finally relax.

When she'd arrived at the hospital it had actually been daylight but by the time they had finished dealing with her cuts, waited for an x-ray, analysed the x-ray, dealt with her bruises, waited for the results of the toxicology on what had been injected into her and given her some pain medication, it had gotten dark again. Laying back and enjoying the utter bliss of being unable to feel her cracked ribs anymore, she both thanked and cursed the NHS. They had at least allowed her some visitors in that time though. Lestrade had appeared pretty early on to tell her that everyone had been arrested, even though Jason was currently handcuffed to a hospital bed while they dealt with his concussion and Alan was yelling something about an assault that they all mysteriously hadn't witnessed. When official visiting hours had started, Sally found herself confronted by her crying mother and surprisingly stoic father. She knew she probably looked worse than it was, after all it could have been a lot worse. That was when she's also found out her mother had happened to meet Lestrade in a corridor when they'd first arrived and had promptly yelled at him. The idea of her mother yelling at her boss was both hilarious and utterly mortifying.

It was getting late now, visiting hours were over, and it was finally time for her to sleep. As she closed her eyes, she heard the door handle turn and someone enter the room. Given that there was meant to be an officer sitting outside her door just in case, she doubted whoever it was planned to kill her so she kept her eyes shut. She fully expected whoever it was to see that she asleep and leave. Instead, the mystery guest walked towards the bed and she heard them flip through the chart at the end of her bed. Then they moved to stand on the left side of her and she was sure she could feel eyes on her so she opened her own eyes to see who was refusing to leave her alone.

"Evening Sherlock," she croaked, her voice still not quite recovered from Alan's rather tight grip. Sherlock looked back at her and a slight smile seemed to grace his face. There was also a very nice looking bruise starting to form on one cheek. It seemed Jason had managed to land one punch on those impossibly perfect cheekbones of his. "Bit past visiting time."

"Unfortunately they've been waiting for the toxicology report on what we were injected with so I've been stuck in this hospital all day," he said it with a sigh and slumped down into the chair near her bed.

"Those results came back three hours ago so you would have been discharged at least two and a half hours ago." There was that sudden flicker in his eyes when he realised he'd been caught out. Lestrade had insisted on the doctor telling her the results even if she was being kept in overnight anyway, he hadn't wanted her worrying about it. If she was being completely honest, she'd forgotten about the damn sedative not long after the first punch to the face. "Don't worry, I get it. You can't let anyone see you're worried about how I am so you waited till everyone had gone home and that nice young police officer went off to get a cup of coffee or something."

There was a silence in the room as her words hung in the air between them. She knew she was right, she'd seen the concern in his eyes at the house and just then when she'd opened her eyes there had definitely been relief. That wasn't how Sherlock Holmes did things though; he was detached and emotionless unless John or his landlady was involved. But perhaps, just perhaps, he wasn't quite the cold hearted monster they all thought he was. An insensitive idiot who thoroughly enjoyed proving he was better than everyone else that he most certainly was.

"Thank you, by the way."

Sherlock stared hard at her when she spoke again, brow furrowing at his confusion.

"Well you pulled him off me when he was strangling me; I think that's something that deserves a thank you."

There was that dismissive wave of the hand he usually gave her as he pulled himself up to his feet.

"You prevented my body coming to any harm; I was merely repaying the favour. Besides, you are clearly a better officer and more intelligent person than I've been giving you credit for, it would be a shame to lose the opportunity to have you prove me wrong sometime in the future."

Sally blinked a few times and tried to make sense of what she'd just heard. Had he actually just paid her a compliment? Somehow, that twisted mind of his had managed to pay her a compliment, even if it did have a back handed swipe at the end. If she was totally honest, he'd probably saved her life back there, but she wasn't giving him the satisfaction of her saying it. She still thought he was an arrogant prick and she was sure there would still be days she hated him, but right now, she didn't think he was such a terrible person.

Of course, that was probably the pain medication talking.

"Well then, I'd better make sure I recover quickly so I can prove you wrong much faster," she said it was a devious smile and was almost pleased to see him return it.

"In that case, sleep well Sergeant Donovan."

"I will Holmes."

She saw Sherlock falter at the door. That was the first time she'd really called him anything other than 'you' or 'freak'. He turned back to look at her with the most genuine smile she thought she'd ever seen from him.

"I'd prefer Sherlock," he responded.

"I'll try to remember that," was her reply, leaning back and closing her eyes. There was a better chance that hell would freeze over before she actually called him Sherlock, but at least Holmes was a start. Plus it would be fun to wind him up for a while by insisting on calling him Holmes. She heard the door shut quietly and smiled. It had certainly been a long day and at last, she could finally fall asleep

Author's Note: And that's all she wrote. Thanks for reading, favouriting and reviewing guys!