Disclaimer: Clearly I don't own Sherlock.

When Sherlock Met Audrey

By: Milify-Star

"Session dismissed." Dr. O'Shannassy let loose the group of adolescents. The teens grabbed their items and found the exit with their parents, except two. It was raining and the two, a boy and a girl both fifteen years in age, stepped outside at the same time and took shelter under an awning.

"You're Audrey Turner." The boy told her rather than asked her. She only gave him a sideways glance and a slight nod, keeping her arms crossed and tightly pressed to her. "You go to St. Mary's Faith School for girls. You play tennis and practice ballet. You suffer from anxiety and depression, which is why you need therapy. You're father's strict, your mother is in America, and you have an older brother attending Oxford." She now turned her head to him with her eyebrows furrowed. "Your father is Robert Turner, co-owner of Turner and Williams the law firm of the UK. You're also very pretty and the rain makes you cold. Would like my coat? It's wool." He finished quickly. She was trying to sort out everything this young man had said to her, but managed to nod. He quickly shrugged off the coat and wrapped it around her.

"Are you going to tell me my National Insurance number next? Or what I want to be when I grow up?" She asked with a look of wonder in her eyes, while letting the warmth of the newly acquired clothing take over. He just shook his head at her. He'd blown it. Not that he expected much; everyone thought he was a freak.

"Aren't you going to ask me how I knew those things?" He wondered. That's what most people did.

"Well I can imagine you can read and I do see you as the type to pick up a business article. We've been in the papers more than the Queen. However, how did you know my diagnosis? And what I do in leisure?"

"Your gym bag is from St. Mary's and every girl from St. Mary's plays sport. You don't seem like much of a team player so tennis. The way you stand with practically perfect postures says ballet. You have a very busy schedule because you're depressed and it's a good distraction or "outlet" as they say. It's also very organized because with a mix of extensive education, a multitude of activities, and the pressure to be perfect at home, you get anxiety attacks." He finished. "Did I miss anything?"

"I ride horses. I like to ride horses." She saw him internally scold himself. She smiled softly to herself and gave herself a small pep talk before she reached up and kissed his cheek quickly then looked forward again. He looked down at her, surprised.

"What was that for?"

"Your compliment and your coat, thank you. I do get cold when it rains."

"You're welcome then." He didn't say anything else as he caught his breath.

"My father told me not to talk to anyone but the therapists here. The children aren't who we want to associate with." She told him that she had been warned just as he suspected.

"Strange, my father said the same." He turned away from her then and looked forward; she followed his lead. After a minute she turned to him again but didn't meet his eyes.

"I think you're very handsome though you could use a haircut." She blushed slightly and turned forward again. Sherlock pulled slightly at his locks. He had been rebelling against his father for weeks about his hair. It was becoming too long to be presentable and a few more inches would lead to a note from his school.

"I think it's fine." He argued.

"Of course it's not fine which is why you wear it like that. You boys always rebel but are never clever about it." She pulled the coat tighter. It smelled like soap and some spicy fragrance, probably cologne.

"Are you insulting me?" He asked bluntly.

"No, there's just no need to look unkempt." She absentmindedly `smoothed down her own hair. They were both silent for a moment again. "You could also be a gentleman and introduce yourself." There was something about her, Sherlock thought. Something in her coiled ways that made him want to ask her to the cinema, hold her hand, and kiss her cheek.

"My name is Sherlock Holmes, I go to St. Edwards Faith School for boys; it's right down the road from St. Mary's. I'm sure we'll cross paths while walking home some days. Maybe I can walk you?"

"How do you know where I live?" She turned to him, now thoroughly concerned.

"I don't. I'd be happy to walk you home whether it is along the way to my home or not." He shrugged.

"That would be lovely." She smiled to herself. They were silent once more. "My father won't approve of this so we should keep this quiet." She warned him. They both noticed a car pulling up and Audrey immediately shrugged off the coat and handed it to him. "Thank you."

-SH-

Audrey walked home alone with her books pulled up against her chest. She was deep in thought when she heard a voice come up from behind her.

"What are you thinking about?" Sherlock fell into stride with her easily. Audrey looked up and a surprise came over her.

"You cut your hair." She stated. He waited for her response. She smiled. "I like it."

"Yes well I didn't want to go around looking unkempt. Now, what were you thinking about?"

"If I finish my Chemistry homework tonight I can start on my English paper for next week." She explained to him.

"Are you always this way? Don't answer that, I already know you are." He asked and answered his own question.

"There is nothing wrong with being a little prepared and organized." She told him as if it was rehearsed.

"No argument there. Let me take those." He took the books from her arms.

"Thank you." She let him. After a moment of hesitation she reached up and placed her hand on the inside of the crook of his arm. He looked down at her but didn't reject the action. It felt nice. They were silent for most of the way.

"Is your father going to get upset?" He wondered as they approached her street.

"My father is away on business and my Mother is also. I'm alone for a while." She informed him as they came to her house. "Would you like to come in for a drink or anything?"

"No, I told you I'd walk you home and I have. I should be going."

"Let me rephrase. I insist you come in for refreshments and I won't take no for an answer." She told him. They paused slightly at the end of her driveway. Sherlock looked down at her. This was the girl of his dreams.

"Alright, tea will be fine."

I hope you enjoyed. I've never tried my hand at writing Sherlock Holmes before so there'll probably be revisions from time to time.

Thanks