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Sherlock Holmes is quite bored.

He hasn't had a case in weeks. And with John gone, he can't annoy him by shooting at Mrs. Hudson's wall. Well, only one Watson stayed at 221B.

(Name) Watson, John's young sister. She moved in with John when she got a job at Bart's. She became friends with Molly right after discovering her with the two men on one case--and right after she knew that (Name) wasn't Sherlock's girlfriend.

Usually, the (colour)ette would be over at Molly's whenever she would go out. However, today was different. She was out on a date. And Sherlock is following her.

Oh, Sherlock was rather bored indeed.

It just about caught the interest of the detective because (Name) never went out on dates. Even if her brother suggested that she should go out and spend time with a real bloke, not her books. Well, Sherlock was gone for a couple of years, so he probably never picked up the sudden change.

But why does he care?

He saw that her cab stopped right in front of club. Sherlock asked his cabbie to stop a block away. He paid the cabbie and cringe at the loud music as he walked nearer. How can (Name) tolerate this? He remembered that look on her face whenever this type of music blasted off of someone's car, even closing the cab's window wouldn't block it.

Sherlock entered and tried to scan the clump of drunken idiots for a familiar (colour)ette. He got a look on her date when they both came out of the cab. A bloke like that would choose a dark corner to possibly drug her into shagging her. As much as he would like one of his deductions to be correct, concern ran in his veins at the mere thought of some idiot laying a hand on her.

John would beat him up for not looking out of his sister. He already experienced the ex-soldier's fury.

"And who are you?" A voice arrogantly requested at the presence of Sherlock picking up the glass with (Name)'s lipstick mark indicating that she just drank it and went to the restroom to fix it.

"Pear martini," he smirked at the choice, but widened his eyes when he sniffed the glass again "Zolpidem..." Sherlock glared daggers at her date. His deductions were correct.

Before the poor bloke can escape, the consulting detective picked her date up by the collar and headbutted him. Then, he threw the guy to the wall, in which caused most of the dancers' attention.

Sherlock wasted no more time with the guy, rather he ran towards the women's restroom. Hopefully, he was correct about her fixing her makeup. The only time he was grateful of a woman's care for detail on herself.

"(Name)!" Sherlock yelled as he forcefully opened the door. The other girls roughly pushed aside when they stepped out of the room, something about invading privacy. He only rolled his blue eyes in apathy.

He stepped further inside, eyes picked up a person under the farthest sink. He found her. "(Name)...?" Crouching down, Sherlock saw that she was perfectly alright, except for her glazed (colour) orbs. That idiot put too much of that drug in her drink, she might be having some side effects.

"(Name), can you hear me?" Difficulty with breathing. Fast heartbeat. He clicked his tongue. Sherlock needs to kill that bastard.

It's not about the worry about John anymore, it's the sentiment about his sister now. And getting her out of this bloody place. It was a good idea that he followed her or else she would have experienced something that will cause her trauma.

~~~

Ohhh my gosh... my head... what happened anyway? Wait, wait, I think I remember! Ugh, I should have trusted my gut more.

Oh no, don't tell me he shagged me!

"No, dear, you should lay back down. I have your tea right here."

"... Mrs. Hudson? Wha..." (Name) woke up to the familiar motherly smile of her landladh, ushering her back down. "Where am I?"

"You're in Sherlock's room, dear. He's occupied right now, so he assigned me to look after you. In all honesty, I was surprised when I saw you two at twelve in the morning, but it's him." She took the warm cup from Mrs. Hudson, but not without looking confused as to what she was telling her. And baffled as to why she was in his room in the first place.

Suddenly, the two women heard the door of the flat opened and heavy footsteps entering. "Have you lost your mind?!" (Name)'s head started hurting again at the boom of her brother's voice. "Will you quiet down, John, (Name) is sleeping." The voice of the detective showed an apparent annoyance directed towards her brother. John only ignored his statement.

"I think I should make (Name) move in with me and Mary! I don't want her to live with a sociopath who beats random guys to their death!"

"Boys, please, will you pipe down? Her headache is certainly not going away with all these yelling. Oh, she's awake now, Sherlock, I'll leave her to you." Mrs. Hudson patted John's shoulder before she left the premises. John was only confused for a moment, and then he entered Sherlock's room.

"Headache? What happened, (Name)?" He began as he noticed her dishevelled form. Before she can speak of the events from last night, Sherlock spoke in her stead. "She went on a date with a bastard that drugged her drink in hopes of getting into her pants."

"Uh... yeah... that's quite what happened."

"What?!" She saw the enraged face of her overprotective brother at what he just heard, but Sherlock continued. "Fortunately, I arrived on time before any of that happened. And it was the same guy you saw when you bailed me out, John." (Name) watched her brother's face cooled down as he muttered a 'thank-you' towards their friend.

John advised (Name) to be more careful next time and bid the two adieu. He needed to be there to make sure Mary was moving too much, now that they were expecting. Sherlock walked him to the door before returning on (Name)'s bedside--or his bedside.

"How did you even knew what was going to happen?" (Name) started, placing the cup back on the nightstand. The detective shrugged, "I saw his true motives right after I saw him." But he knew she wouldn't buy that lie.

Even if her head was aching, Sherlock knew that (Name) would see right through the lie. "You followed me because you were bored." She stated, matter-of-factly, giving him a blasé expression.

Curse this woman and her observation skills. A skill her brother never earned. "You still sleep with that pink rabbit toy of yours."

"Don't you dare change the subject with Usa-chan, Holmes." She cringed for a moment, her headache not helping with her cornering the detective. Sherlock stepped out of the room to only come back with aspirin and a glass of water for her. "The side effects should be wearing off by now but I suggest you go back to sleep."

She nodded, only to smile when Sherlock handed her the bunny. He's not so cold after all. "Ugh, this means I have to apologise to Molly. She set me up with that date in the first place. Now, I have to wait for a whilst until I date again."

"You can date me." The (colour)ette gave a chuckle, "Nice try. You shouldn't do sentiment, it doesn't suit you... Thank you, though."

And with that, (Name) said good night to him, regardless of the sunlight shining through the windows, snuggling up to her favourite stuffed toy.

"You're right. Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side," he remarked, the ends of his lips raising a bit ", and (Name), I lost to you."

The consulting detective gave her a quick kiss on the lips. He stepped out of the room and closed the door, playing a rather cheerful melody on his violin that made his flatmate smile subconsciously.

Yes, a date with her sounds nice, but that's a story for another day.