Hey! So, this is the first chapter of my new fanfic which I hope is going to develop into a multi-chaptered story. It was based and inspired by the song 'You Found Me' by the band The Fray and kudos to me for a completely original title! Not.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own 'Sherlock' or any of its characters. T.T

I found God

On the corner of First and Amistad

Where the west was all but won

All alone

Smoking his last cigarette

I said, "Where have you been?"

He said, "Ask anything."

It's just another ordinary day for Sara Myers. Of course, ordinary is boring, when her old identity (not her first one, just the latest) is recorded dead and buried (well, not buried, just... disposed of) and she is now a normal, young, slightly strikingly beautiful American woman with a normal job at a normal surgery in Philadelphia.

It is an easy (boring) accomplishment to hide herself in the crowds of mundane people that occupy the city. It is also easy to drop all her British habits and turn into an average American one would overlook in a street. Funny, she reflects. She had always hated America- the people, the food and the noisy, dense atmosphere that swamped the country like a smog that was so thick one could only blindly feel their way through every stupid, meaningless, monotonous day that shared every characteristic with the day before and the day before that and the weeks and the months and the years that were exactly the same.

Of course, she hadn't disliked it so strongly when she was a powerful dominatrix who had the means to send the most important politicians on their knees and begging for mercy (many more times than twice) and when she had secrets in her hands that were so dark and hidden and simply delicious that she could have taken down any country in the world. But no, she had had to pick England. Of all 196 separate countries, England.

But now she is not an all-powerful dominatrix with at least three-quarters of the human population under her thumb, and she has every right to loathe the USA.

And now, with the commonplace name Sara that he has given her, she has to talk to boring, ordinary, mundane, tedious, dull people about their irrelevant lives that bear no consequence to the indifferent universe and pretend to be interested and smile and laugh and make weak jokes and in return fill them in on her colourless life and meaningless gossip that has been circulating about Steve Thompson from upstairs who is apparently cheating on his wife with three (yes, no less than three!) different women who all have no clue that he is married.

And so she carries on.

Until, that afternoon, she comes across Sherlock Holmes leaning nonchalantly on the wall and smoking on the corner of Alberger's Street where, incidentally, her apartment is.

Her first reaction is surprise (as would anyone's be if they saw their saviour turn up in their lives after abandoning them). Her second is anger (there isn't anything burning under it she hates him she hates him she hates him). Just like him to show up in her carefully methodised life (she refuses to believe her repetitious days are anything but a choice) and rip the tightly stitched seams in her heart to shreds. She is trembling (she doesn't know why, of course she doesn't) by the time she reaches him.

His eyes have turned towards her form and she silently screams at her frame to stop this damn shivering (it doesn't obey her; now even her own body betrays her). He is smirking and the wave of fury is rising in her chest and swallowing her mind and she wants to rip his face off or kiss him she doesn't know which one would cause her the most pleasure possibly both and her mind is a jumble of words and fragmented sentences and, and, and...

He finally speaks and his voice is a rumble in his chest and it sounds so familiar that there is a painful twisting in her heart.

"No need to look so terrified," he drawls, lazily pushing himself off the wall. "Or is that what ex-dominatrixes do when they come across old... acquaintances?"

She bristles at his cockiness and at the intentional stress on his last word (they both know that he didn't think of her that way the last time they met).

"Just because you get scared of women, Mr Holmes, doesn't mean you should treat one disrespectfully. Didn't Mummy teach you that? Or at least your dear big brother Mikey?"

She knows her retort is insubstantial and she can tell he does too, by the glint in his eye.

One corner of his mouth pulls up into a sneer. "Miss Adler... No need to be jealous of my mother. We both know yours wasn't around too much in your childhood, don't we?"

And that is the last straw. The rage that has been simmering under her skin now rises to crash around her ears and strike her blind with its sheer force. Her hand lifts, as if of its own accord (she knows it doesn't, she knows it's because she loves him and hates him simultaneously) and cracks once across his face.

I could cut myself slapping that face.

The words, her own words, echo in her ears. But he only turns his head with the blow and stays silent, though his cheek is flushed fuchsia. That only stokes her rage further and she strikes him again and again, until her hand is burning as if nettles have just been dragged across her flesh and the right side of his face is stained with the darkest shade of scarlet she has ever laid eyes on.

Her chest is heaving, her acrimony not yet satisfied. Her lips are struggling to form words (something along the lines of bastard or I hate you) and she is staring up at his (beautiful) face with a mixture of disgust (wonder), hate (love) and frustration (infatuation) when her mouth is engulfed by his and she is suddenly pressed up against the very wall he had been inclined against earlier and her lips are stiff from shock for only a millisecond before she is kissing him back just as furiously.

She pulls away.

"Where have you been?" she whispers, centimetres away from his face.

He smirks again, though this time it is almost... endearing to her.

"Ask me anything."

I'm currently working on the second chapter, which should be pretty fun! I hope you liked this one. Thanks for reading!

~thedetectiveintheshadows