You See But Do Not Observe

PROTECTION

CHAPTER EIGHT : PROTECTION

The street was wet. It must have rained while she was in their flat.

She thought about Sherlock and John. They were a strange pairing, so different in so many ways. But they fit together. It wasn't a strange thing that she had thought they were a couple.

Sherlock was the one she wanted to figure out. She knew John; the one everyone liked, caring, friendly, and more than a little flirty. But Sherlock was a closed, padlocked, and hidden book. She knew people. She knew what made them act the way they did, why they said each word, and they never surprised her.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. She had been surprised once, and she had paid the price.

NO.

Thinking about the past hurt her. It made her wrists ache and her eyes burn and her heart shut down.

She didn't like surprises anymore. She liked the ones she could see through: Lestrade, John, Mrs. Hudson. But...Sherlock was the one she wanted to know.

She just had to make trouble for herself.

Serena was so distracted she didn't notice the slow rasp of footsteps behind her, or the sound of low breathing. She didn't see the hand reaching for her.

She noticed when an arm closed around her throat, and she forgot to inhale. Her attacker pinned her left arm behind her back with lightning quickness, and fear paralyzed her muscles.

Instinct took the driver's seat. Her right elbow drove backwards into his side, and he grunted. She forced her heel into his foot, and his grip loosened slightly. She instantly whirled around to face him and kneed him between the legs. He let out a groan of pain.

"Bitch!" He hissed, and his fist connected with her cheekbone. She gasped in pain, but her footing stayed secure as she whipped to the side.

His face was unshaven, his blond hair long and tied in a ponytail. Serena saw that much in the dim light before his hand shot forward to grab her again.

Her palm hit his Adam's apple before he could. He staggered backward, retching uncontrollably. Serena's heel hit his knee, and she heard a crack. He screamed, but she didn't have time for remorse. She turned and sprinted away.

Her hands were trembling as she fumbled with her key at the lock. It finally slid in, and she walked into her apartment. Her cheek stung, and her heart was beating at machine-gun speed. She locked the door behind her.

She collapsed on the couch and took out her phone.

"Serena?" Lestrade's groggy voice came over the line. "It's nearly one. What is it?"

Serena took a deep breath. "If you go to Brighton Street, you'll find a man. He has blond hair. He'll have been beaten."

"How do you know?" Lestrade asked, his voice sharpening with interest.

"Because he just attacked me."

"Are you alright?" His voice was so concerned. It was so sweet.

"A couple bruises, nothing major. You might want an ambulance for the other guy."

There was a long pause.

"We'll need to ask questions." Lestrade finally said.

"Tomorrow. Please?" Serena said. Her eyelids were already getting heavy.

"Tomorrow." Lestrade said firmly. "Are you sure you're alright? You don't want to...call anyone to come over?"

"No, I'm fine." Serena yawned.