When Sherlock hesitantly enters her surgery she stares at him with a questioning look on her face.

"I thought this was a joke."

"A joke?"

"Yes. That is weird. Assuming that John's stories are true, you usually choose different ways to talk to people. Besides that, you didn't need to take an appointment to talk to me. You could have phoned."

"I'm not here for pleasure."

She becomes immediately concerned, a worried wrinkle on her forehead.

"Is this about John? Did something happen to him?"

Sherlock frowns.

"Sarah" he states "I reserved an appointment and came here, in your surgery, because I need to talk to you as a doctor. I'm looking for your professional skills."

"Is this for you?" she looks embarrassed. "I mean, is this about one of the cases of yours or are you actually here" she pauses "as a patient?"

He remains quiet for a moment.

"I think I need… medical attention, but I have no desire to inconvenience you. If this makes you uncomfortable, I can easily find someone else."

"But… why didn't you just ask John to have a look at you?"

"Because." he answers. He is cold and detached as usual, and she isn't able to tell whether there is something wrong with that or not. Anyway, she decides not to linger any longer. If he is here because he is in need of a doctor, it's her precise duty to give him her full attention, although she can't pretend to be comfortable with that.

"Just one more question. Why do you choose me?"

"John helds you in high esteem, and I trust his judgement."

Sarah takes her time to properly look at him. He is smartly dressed, elegant as usual, his tailor shirt perfectly ironed. He doesn't look any different, maybe a little bit paler and more tired, but that's all.

"So, tell me. What's the problem?"

He gazes at her. She can tell there's something that is bothering him.

"You are well aware of the implications of doctor-patient relationship, aren't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Anything I'm going to tell you and any other information concerning my health must remain private."

"Sherlock" she says "Although I can't understand your decision, I'm not going to blurt this out, especially not to John. You can count on my discretion."

"Fine."

"So, what's the matter?"

He bites his lips. She can tell that admitting that he actually has weaknesses is incredibly hard.

"Recently, I've experienced a sort of fatigue which is totally new to me. I'm feeling tired even if I've just get up. Sometimes, I find it difficult to just… do things."

"Anything else?"

"Loss of appetite, dizziness, headache."

"Any nausea or sickness?"

"Both, but not on a regular basis. Maybe twice or three times a week."

"Pain?"

"Not really."

"Do you move your bowels regularly?"

He flushes. "Yes."

"Any other medical condition I should be informed about?"

"None."

"Fine. Now, may I examine you?"

It's his turn to look uncomfortable now. He stares at his shoes before starting to unbutton his shirt. She notices how thin he is; has he always looked so… fragile?

"How much do you weight exactly?"

"71 kilos, more or less."

"Did you checked it before coming?"

"Should I have?"

"Come on the scales."

He does as he is ordered, walking across the room barefoot and not looking as stable as he should be. He doesn't even look at the numbers on the screen, he just turns back and lays down on the examination table. He is really weary, even if he tries to hide that.

"You lost four kilos. I think that you are underweight now."

"I never eat properly. It's not a big deal."

She decides not to argue, even though it's clear that this is, actually, a big deal. How can he possibly run across the city chasing criminals like that?

Before staring her examination she checks his vitals. His BP is too low, she was expecting that, and he's got a 38° fever, which is much more worrying.

"Did you check your temperature in the past days?

"No, actually."

"Mmm. Great. Are you always that thoughtless about you well-being?"

He grimaces.

"Much worse. Just ask John about that."

She sighs while she helps him to sit down and she puts on her stethoscope and listen to his lungs and heart while he takes deep breathes. His heartbeat is rather quicker than normal but regular and strong, and there are crackling rales and rattles in the upper lobe of his left lung. She asks him to lay down again and she probes his stomach, instructing him to tell her whether he can feel any discomfort. As soon as she reaches the lower left quadrant and presses gently he winces in pain; she can feel his enlarged spleen under her fingers, and she can tell without touching that his liver is swollen too. She carefully lifts his eyelids searching for jaundice but there is none.

Definitely, something is wrong.

"I'm going to take a blood sample, and I'm going to book you a chest X-ray and an ultrasound scan as soon as possible, maybe tomorrow. And I want you to start with antibiotics immediately."

"Is it really necessary?"

"Yes, it is. You've got a fever, low BP, dehydratation, and there are a few things about your examination that I want to study in deep. I want to admit you."

He is surprised; a frightened glance cross his face but it lasts for an instant before being replaced by his usual distant, cold mask.

"No." he states, and she understands that there is no chances that he changes his mind. "I'm not that sick."

She ends up writing a prescription for the medications she thinks he needs at the moment, and she almost begs him to came back the following day for the tests.

He agrees and he stands up, looking unsteady and dizzy once again.

She shouldn't let him go, but has she got any choice?

"Thank you." He says before leaving.

It is just when he is long gone that she realizes that he didn't question her about his conditions at all.

I'm not a native speaker but I'm working hard to improve… I hope that my English is acceptable and I hope that you like the first chapter. Both laudations and criticism are welcome.