Sherlock was bored. He was so bored that bored was perhaps not the correct word to use. His day to day activities seemed mundane without the usual thrill of psychopaths and serial killers to catch. Instead, for that past week, he had spent his time in the flat of 221B Baker Street, reading books and using John's laptop to search various sites, trying to find something to capture his interest for more than five minutes. John had complained at Sherlock for his constant rambling and had found himself spending more time with Sarah in an attempt to not let Sherlock drive him mad. And so, it was on that Sunday morning at approximately quarter past six when Sherlock let himself out of the apartment and onto the cold, wintery morning of London. Placing on his leather gloves and closing his grey coat tighter around him, he moved down the empty pavement, looking for anything which might be interesting. As he wandered around London, he only passed a handful of people who were going about their everyday business. There was nothing interesting at all; maybe a walk wouldn't help clear his mind. That was until he saw her. Walking down the pavement of a street line in town houses, he saw a woman slowly shutting the door to a house, wincing slightly at the contact it made with the frame as it shut. He saw her shut her eyes for a moment and then turn around, walking down the steps and looking around, noticing Sherlock but ignoring him and just turning a slight red when she saw his smirk on his face. Quickly, she walked down the sidewalk, Sherlock following her, reading her like an open book. As she continued to hurry, she managed to find an uneven paving slab, her ankle twisted slightly and she was thrown off balance, landing straight onto her backside in the quiet air.

"Like a hand?" Sherlock managed to ask her and she looked down at the concrete before taking his leather clad hands and allowing him to haul her up.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

"No problem," Sherlock shrugged.

"I don't normally look this much of a mess," she said and Sherlock looked at her for the first time. She was wearing a short, sequined black dress which clung to her body rather suggestively, black stilettos were on her feet and her blonde hair was ruffled up and curly as her makeup looked runny.

"I imagine you don't normally do the walk of shame home either," Sherlock said.

"How do you know I'm doing the walk of shame?" she asked and continued hobbling along on her ankle as Sherlock walked alongside her, oblivious to her pain.

"Well it's quite clear, you're wearing last night clothes and you've just come out of a home which isn't your own for you didn't lock up and the way you winced when you shut the door shows you didn't want whoever you had slept with to know you were leaving," Sherlock observed. "Judging by the house you had just left I would say he was quite wealthy as well, no one close to you for the reason that you wanted to sneak out"

"Okay you got me" she said "I'm doing the walk of shame..." she clutched onto her necklace around her neck with a locket on the end and Sherlock noticed.

"No...I'm guessing you don't anyway because you have an elder brother who used to look after you, correct?" Sherlock asked and the girl stopped and looked amazed, pushing her blonde hair from her face.

"How...how did you know?" she asked and once again Sherlock couldn't help but grin.

"You have a photo of him on your pendant. He is too young to be your father and by the way you're standing close to him I would say he was your brother and you were close, of course the photo looks relatively old due to the fading of it and so I would say that he is dead possibly, from the war by the looks of it and the way he has his hair cut and is holding himself around you shows protectiveness. So that would mean that he was strict and would never have let his baby sister out of his sight, hence she would never have slept with a random man after a drunken night out."

"Do you always analyse every woman you meet?" she asked him.

"Force of habit," Sherlock shrugged and continued walking. "I also imagine you're a secretary."

"For a law firm," she confirmed and Sherlock made a tut noise;

"What would they say if they knew she was doing a walk of shame?" he asked and noted her limp for the first time

"Trust me," she said. "A lot more bad things go on in that place than what I just did...and I feel terrible about it...so how do you know I'm a secretary?"

"Expensive dress, shoes and bracelet tells me you're in a well paying profession but you party so like to have fun too, showing you're not too serious about your career. You have well maintained hands and nails which shows you don't do any manual work," Sherlock said. "And so if you feel bad about what happened last night then it shows you don't do this often."

"Sleep with anyone I meet?" the blonde laughed, standing still for a moment and bending over, touching her ankle. "Never done it before"

"So I'm guessing you only did it because you felt like you needed someone to give you attention...with the death of your brother leaving you alone then you thought you needed someone to be with," Sherlock said and she stood up straight again, tossing her blonde locks back and looking at the tall mysterious man.

"Makes me sound pathetic, right? Considering it meant nothing."

"They say meaningless sex can sometimes be the best," Sherlock informed her and she raised an awkward brow.

"Right" she muttered "I don't think I caught your name..."

"It's Sherlock," he said. "Sherlock Holmes, Miss Scarlett Jones"

"It's Jenson," she replied. "How did you even get that?"

"On the back of the locket it says to Scarlett from LJ...I guessed Jones and just so happened to be wrong. An unusual thing Miss Jenson, I shall have you know," he told her cockily.

"Do all walks of shame end up like this?" she asked and Sherlock looked at her ankle.

"Technically you're not walking" he said "and many people tend to find my little habit annoying"

"Really?" she asked. "I find it fascinating Mr Holmes...and you leave me if you want...I'll call a taxi...this is London after all."

"How far away do you live?" Sherlock asked her.

"About four streets from here," Scarlett said and Sherlock nodded, swiftly and boldly moving towards her, knocking her knees from under her and his other arm going around her waist as he held her in his arms.

"I can't leave you here now knowing you have a tendency for getting into trouble, and besides, calling a cab would take far too long and it is terribly cold for you to have to stand in that skimpy dress and wait for a taxi," Sherlock told her as he felt her arms rest onto his shoulders and she shook her head.

"You're an odd one Mr Holmes," she said lowly. "I don't even know you"

"Ah," Sherlock said, looking forwards. "But I know you."

"No you don't," Scarlett chuckled. "Not really anyway...you know of my life but you don't know me."

"Perhaps you're right," Sherlock stated, looking into her blue eyes, a twinkle in his own as he found the young woman fascinating to him. "And don't you think it seems even worse that you know nothing about me?" he checked with her and she shrugged;

"I can normally judge a person," she stated and Sherlock raised a brow at her;

"Really?" he asked and she nodded.

"Normally...but you're an odd one," she admitted and Sherlock chuckled.

"How so?" he wondered.

"Well first off," she began, "you're out for a walk in the early hours of the morning for no apparent reason by the looks of it, then you find me and begin to randomly speak with me and then you insist on carrying me back home"

"So I can't just be kind?" Holmes wondered and Scarlett turned a little red.

"Or that too," she admitted. "But I mean...do you really think I deserve kindness?"

"So you want the whole world to punish you because you feel guilty for acting like some cheap tart and so you know it isn't just you who is mad with yourself?" Holmes asked her and she jumped back a little.

"Are you always this brash?" she asked.

"Normally," he admitted quickly. "I don't see you as some slapper...I just think you were lonely and confused." Holmes nodded once and Scarlett looked into his eyes for a minute and smiled.

"In that case," she said. "Thanks"

"You're welcome. Now which way do we go?" he asked and she guided him to her house where he set her down on the porch and she unlocked the door and stood in the doorway, her bad ankle off the floor slightly as she looked at Sherlock, stood opposite her and she extended her hand to him;

"I thank you Mr Holmes for what has been an extremely odd morning," she grinned and Sherlock took her hand and shook it;

"And you too Miss Jenson...you've...well...been quite entertaining," he said and the girl simply smirked and laughed to herself;

"Glad I can entertain," she bowed ironically and stood back up as they stared at each other.

"I'll leave you to it then," Sherlock nodded and she smiled.

"I'll see you around Mr Holmes?" she asked him hopefully as he walked off, looking back at her with a smug grin;

"Perhaps."

...

Please read and review my quick little one shot! Thanks!