Oh my! sorry it's been over a week since I up loaded. since I'm not in school right now I have three jobs and it's some times hard to upload when I want too. but anyhow here it is! hope you like it! Also Look out for the <>!

DarlaH

"Oh, hey John," I said as I walked out of my room in the early morning days later. It surprised me to see him at such an early hour, but I didn't care to ask him why he was here. It had been about two weeks since we finished my first big first case and we locked Raymond Welfore up for good.

Since then, I had been lucky enough to have no more cases, which allowed for more time to myself away from Sherlock and the department. This free time gave me peace of mind, so I didn't have to battle with feeling guilty about working for the police.

I had such powerful feelings of betrayal, not only towards myself but towards the white collar crime. I was now working with the side that I wanted no part in. But at the same time, I felt accomplished when I saw bad people stopped so they could hurt no one else. I stole millions of dollars from all over the UK, but one thing I could never do was kill. That was a true criminal and something that I would never do.

Sherlock, on the other hand, hated not having a case. He didn't tell me about it though, well he didn't tell me anything since we hardly talked, but I was fine with that. Everything he did bothered me and if I had it my way, I would always be away from him. It looked like he wasn't looking to build a relationship with me either, but then again, I wasn't looking to build one with him.

Even though he said nothing to me, I could tell as the days went on, he just got more bored with life. Once in a while, I noticed he would find other ways to keep himself busy and some of those ways I didn't approve of.

"Morning Rori," John Watson said as he took a sip of coffee.

I went into the kitchen and looked for something to eat, but after a minute or two one question weighed heavily on my mind. I couldn't help but ask him a simple question. "What are you doing here?"

"Sherlock asked me to be here."

I looked around and didn't see Sherlock around. Figures, he tells his only friend to meet him at his house and he isn't even there. It surprised me he even had one friend by the way he treated everyone. "I think he's out."

"I think so too. I hope you don't mind," he said and held up his cup of coffee in his hand.

"No, help yourself." I didn't pay for the food anyhow, so he could eat as much as he wanted and I would never care.

"So what's on your plate for today?" John said, trying to make conversation. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Every time I saw him, he always asked what I had been up to or what I was doing. I know he was just trying to be friendly, but I didn't like anyone knowing what I was doing. They didn't need to know what happened in my life and I never wanted to tell them.

"Um, I don't know, hanging out around town or something." I shrugged as if I had no actual plans, but in reality I was going to go back to the flat where I lived before they took me to prison. Strangers would have cleaned the flat out, but I had a secret hiding place for a few of my things. If those things were still there, I would have some extra cash in my pocket.

He looked at me with this odd look on his face and then said, "Is that a bullet hole in the wall?"

I looked at the hole behind me with a frown. "Oh yeah, he did that, um, yesterday, I think." I shrugged as if it was no big deal. Sherlock was home in the afternoon and while I was making lunch, he just pulled out a gun and shot the wall beside me. It scared me to death and, of course, I yelled at him but he didn't tell me why he did it, so I just left the flat. If he wanted to shoot the wall, he could do it when I wasn't there. I never did like guns.

"Living with him is... hard... isn't it?" John asked me as much if trying to find the right words to describe it.

It was more than that, it was unbearable most of the time. But I wasn't about to go into detail about that to John. "Kind of. Well, feel free to stay awhile but I'm going out. Nice chatting," I said as I pulled on my gray button down sweater over my plain white T.

"Oh, yeah, uh, nice chatting to you as well. But it is freezing out there, you should get something more on."

I stopped and turned to face him and said, "I have nothing else." Leaving it with that, I walked out the door and down the stairs. I stepped out into the brisk London air and shivered, pulling sweater closer to my body as I walked down the road to get the Tube. John was right, it was freezing out here, and the wind wasn't helping, but I had nothing thicker. That's why I needed to go to my old flat. I needed more money to get warmer clothes.

I knew where I was going. From Baker Street I would change lines and get off at Leicester square then down a couple old roads to my flat.

By the time I got off the Tube, rain had started to fall. "I really need an umbrella or a raincoat," I sighed to myself as I ran underneath a tourist shop's awning. I waited a minute or two until the rain lightened up, then continued on my way.

I walked down a couple of streets until I arrived at rows of old white houses. "143, that's the number," I breathed. It felt like just yesterday I was down this road, holding hands with Kale, laughing about something stupid that had happened that day.

~~~~~~~

<>

The sun was setting, causing the sky to change from blue to brilliant shades of pink and purple. It was a wonderful day to go out and Kale and I spent it around town, a walk in the park and also picking some pockets because we were in between jobs at the moment and needed some extra cash. We made at least 700 that day and it was more fun than I had in a long time. Being with him made everything better.

"My now that was fun," Kale said to me and smiled.

"Yeah, it was fun. So here's your share." I said and handed him 350 quid.

He shook his head and said, "no, it's yours."

"But we made it together."

He chuckled and handed the money back to me. "Just take it," he said and looked at me. "You're really beautiful, you know that?"

"No I'm not." I blushed and looked down at the ground to hide my face. I looked at myself every day and I could name handfuls of things that made me ugly. I would never be as pretty as those people in the magazines, or even my mother for that matter.

"What did your mum do to you?" he asked as he used his forefinger to push my chin up so I was looking at his green eyes.

"I don't want to talk about it," I sighed and looked away from him. I had never been good about talking about my past. She was a terrible person, but she was the only mother I had. She wasn't physically abusive, no, but she was with her words. She was constantly tearing me down to nothing. When I was older, I realized why my father left; to get away from her.

"How do you expect me to help you if you don't let me in?" he sighed with frustration. But he had to understand that I just couldn't tell him. I couldn't bring myself to do it because my past was so bitter for me and I didn't want to open up old doors that I tried so hard to close.

"I don't know," I said softly without looking at him, afraid to meet his green eyes.

We walked in silence until we stopped at flat number 143. I turned to look at him and said, "Thanks for taking me home."

"Yeah," he shrugged. He was still mad.

"I don't know what to say Kale."

"I just want to know about your past, Aurora. We had been together for over nine months and you must know almost everything about me, but yet, I still don't know hardly anything about you," he fired off at me.

"I just need time."

"Yeah, me too," he said and turned away from me.

"Please, don't leave," I said halfheartedly as my eyes welled up with tears.

"Good night Aurora," he said as he walked away from me.

~~~~~~~

I shook my head to get that memory out of my head. That was the first and last time that I would ever cry in front of someone. No one needed to know my emotions, but he got inside my head time and time again. Being with him made me feel like I would be always safe with him by my side. But that night made me realize even more that people always let you down and you shouldn't trust anyone.

I tried so hard to forget that dreadful day. That same night, Sherlock and a handful of officers came to my flat and took me away. I thought I would be out soon, that Kale would help me get out. I thought he loved me enough to save me, but I was dead wrong about that.

I stopped at the front of the white house and dropped to my knees to pick the lock. Within a minute, I heard a click, and the door swung open and I stepped in.

I walked up and down the stairs and through the rooms of my old flat until I realized nothing was left in this old place except that ugly chair that Kale always liked. I walked over to it and took the clear tarp off, causing dust to stir up into the air. No one had lived in here since I had left, however all the things I owned were gone. Kale must have come and taken everything away. That's what I would have done anyhow.

I took a seat down on the chair and looked around. There was nothing left, no memory's to collect, no little trinkets to get, it was all gone. A part of me was glad for it. I didn't need any memories from my old life, it would only slow me down. All my hiding places were empty, and I knew that kale must have got all of my things and left along ago. A pang of sadness rippled through me as I thought about that. This was why I could let no one in again.

I sat there in silence for what felt like only a couple minutes, just thinking about the past memories, things that I didn't necessarily want to dig back up, but I couldn't shake them out of my head. It didn't allow me to think straight. I didn't know what to do next. Why did I even come here if I was going to be haunted by old memories? I fiddled with my bracelet and then took it off and threw it at the wall in anger.

I sat there for another minute and then got up off the chair and picked up my bracelet. "Why am I here?" I said out loud until it hit me, my safe box, in this very room under the floorboards, if it was still there anymore. I looked underneath the chair and the rug, was a secret compartment made of metal. I pushed the chair out of the way and found the little divot where a bobby pin could open the metal compartment.

It clicked open and there, under the metal door, was a small tin box covered in dust. I reached down and pulled it out. I felt my heart race as I wrapped my hands around the cold container. This is what I came here for. My worse fear was that Kale somehow found this box after I left and took everything out and left me with nothing. I sat there just staring at this stupid thing, fearing the worse.

"What the hell am I doing?" I took a deep breath and opened it.

Inside was about 200,000 quid. I smirked as I saw this, just as much as I left in it. As I took all the money out, I noticed pictures in the bottom of the tin. I took them out and looked over at them. There was a picture of my Mum, grandmother and the last picture there was, was one of Kale and me, smiling. I tuned the picture over in my hand and saw in this neat handwriting a note.

To my dear Aurora,

I am sorry about not visiting you while you were locked up. I hated how I left things between us. I know these photos will not make up for what I did. Now be time you read this note, please know that I will be long gone, they found me.

Thanks for the memories, I will never forget you,

Kale

I could feel my heart drop as I read this. For so long, I thought he just hated me and that was why he wouldn't come for me, but it turned out that the group he was terrified of found him. I looked up at the ceiling to stop the tears from coming. He wasn't coming back and I couldn't tell him how sorry I was for being so bitter towards him.

I didn't want to be here anymore than I had to, so I quickly got the pictures and neatly stuck them in my pocket and got the money and stuffed it into my other pocket. Now it was time to get some warmer clothes and other things.

It me no time at all to find more clothes and with bags in hand, I walked into Sherlock's flat.

"Your back, good," Sherlock said once I walked into the flat with bags in my hands later that night.

"Why are you always here when I come back? Don't you have places to go?" I sighed, too tired mentally to say something sharp.

"Watson said you left abruptly. Where did you go off to?"

"Shopping, we needed food, and I needed clothes," I said flatly as I dropped my bags on the ground.

"You were somewhere else, too. There is a bulge in both of your pockets and your shoes are socked, more than if you were to just go down the road. You have a musty smell to you as if you went somewhere where people haven't been in a long time. You face looks tired and worn for only being seven in the evening and your body language is reserved, which is odd for you. You're hiding something. You must have gone out to your old flat maybe got some money afterwards because after all you are a white collar..."

"Enough!" I yelled at him. "I'm sick of you always picking me apart. This is my personal life, and I am determined to keep it that way." With that, I slammed door shut for the night.