Sherlock was studying samples for a new case he had in the lab. John was on his phone when Molly spoke up.

"So, um, Sherlock... I was wondering if maybe you would like to... I don't know... go out for dinner tonight or just a cup of tea?" Molly asked nervously.

"Can't, I got plans," Sherlock replied flatly.

"Oh, the case, right." She fiddled with her hands.

"Nope, I'm taking Phoebe out for dinner," Sherlock said, still not looking up from the microscope.

"Phoebe?" Molly looked at shyly.

"Right, you haven't met her. John, my pocket," Sherlock said. "Left."

John rolled his eyes, but put his hand in the left pocket of Sherlock's jacket, feeling a locket. He pulled it out and opened it.

"That's Phoebe," Sherlock said before John showed the contents of the locket to Molly.

Molly looked at the picture and frowned.

"Oh, so you have a date. How fun," she said as she stepped back.

"No, not a date. John wants me to make friends, but this is just so you we don't hate each other," Sherlock corrected.

"At least try to be her friend! You are such a child!" John shoved the locket back in Sherlock's pocket.

"She agreed that we don't have to be friends! She knows me better than both of you so she gets that I don't have time for friends," Sherlock looked up and John huffed.

"If she knows you so well then how isn't she your friend?" Molly asked.

"She's still upset because I slept with her and left before she woke up. I didn't really talk to her after that and then she moved." Sherlock shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't forget the part where she thought you were friends for almost your entire childhood, but you didn't tell her that until after you slept with her," John added and Molly slapped Sherlock.

"What was that for?!" He asked as he held his cheek.

"How dare you treat a woman like that! Shame on you, Sherlock Holmes!" Molly scolded.

"So now you're mad at me too?" Sherlock groaned and stood up. "I have to go. Don't touch my samples."

"Where are you going?" John asked.

"I promised Phoebe I would try to act like a human. I need to change and have a chat with Mrs Hudson," Sherlock said before he walked out the door.

🔎

Phoebe fixed her hair and smiled at herself in the mirror. She loved getting dressed up, even if it was just to go to the store.

She walked out to her living room and grabbed her purse before there was a knock at the door.

She opened the door and saw Sherlock.

"Um, you look lovely," Sherlock said what Mrs Hudson told him to say and Phoebe raised an eyebrow.

"Thanks, you don't look to bad yourself," Phoebe replied.

"Shall we be on our way?" Sherlock held out his arm.

"What are you doing? You're acting strange," Phoebe said as she looked at him suspiciously.

"You told me to try and act like a human so I asked Mrs Hudson what to do," Sherlock admitted and Phoebe felt happy that he was actually trying.

"I see, well, thank you for putting in the effort," Phoebe said as she linked her arm with his.

Sherlock walked out with her and hailed a cab.

"Where are we going exactly?" She asked as she slipped into the backseat of the cab.

"A restaurant owned by someone I cleared of a murder charge. The food is quite good. Italian," Sherlock said as he looked out the window.

"Hmm." Phoebe nodded and looked out the opposite window.

A thick awkward silence hung in the air the entire ride. Neither said anything to the other.

Phoebe bit her lip slightly as her nerves went wild. She glanced at Sherlock briefly before closing her eyes. She took a deep breath as she tried to stop thinking about him.

🔎

When they got to the restaurant and walked in, the man at the front pointed them to the table by the door.

"Ah, Sherlock, got another date? She's a pretty one," a man said as he walked over.

"I'm not his date," Phoebe corrected quickly, but she was curious as to what he meant by 'another date'.

"John wasn't my date either. We were on a case. He's my assistant and flat mate," Sherlock clarified. "Phoebe, this is Angelo."

"Pleasure to meet you." Phoebe held out her hand.

"And you," Angelo replied as he shook her hand. "Now, what can I get you both to drink? It's on the house."

"Oh, um, I'll have a cup of green tea, please," Phoebe requested and Sherlock hummed.

"I'll have the same," he said as Angelo handed them their menus.

"Alright then," Angelo said before walking away.

"So, what's up with you and that Anderson guy?" Phoebe asked as she looked at her menu.

"Ugh, he is so annoying. His voice gives me a headache," Sherlock groaned before he heard her phone vibrate on the table. "Who is it?"

Phoebe looked and hummed softly. "Just my dad. My parents are coming to see my flat on Saturday."

"You better not have loud parties that keep me up at night," Sherlock said and Phoebe snorted.

"Who would I invite? I have two friends and Mycroft doesn't do parties. John is the only one who I could possibly have a party with and that's only one person. I don't have any other friends..." Phoebe looked down.

"Why not? I mean honestly I think friends are pointless, but you're a normal person, I guess. You rely a lot on sentiment unlike my brother and I. Honestly, I'm not sure how you two are friends," Sherlock said.

"Because we talk and I understand him. I know that you both don't do feelings and you may be very aware and clever, but he is smart. He knows how to act like a human at least. I know that he probably just puts on an act for me, but for my entire life he's been the only friend I've had until I met John," Phoebe said a bit harshly.

"Why didn't you just make new friends when you moved away?" Sherlock put his menu down.

"You know, for such a smartass you really are dense," Phoebe huffed and she looked at her necklace, fiddling with it. "Because I was afraid to make friends..."

"Afraid? You've never been afraid, except for of heights," Sherlock said, not believing her answer.

"I was afraid because you hurt me... I know that you don't get hurt in that tiny little heart of yours, but you hurt people, Sherlock, whether you realize it or not. Each time someone wanted to be my friend, I was afraid that they didn't really want to be my friend, that they were going to abandon me, that I wouldn't mean anything to them..."

Sherlock felt his chest tighten, but he didn't know what it meant or what he should do.

"I'm sorry," he said without thinking.

"What?" She hadn't expected that response.

"I'm sorry that I hurt you," Sherlock said as Angelo set down their tea. "Give us a minute."

Angelo nodded and left them be.

"I just didn't want a friend," Sherlock admitted.

"Then why didn't you tell me that sooner? You had years to tell me to get out of your life. Years to tell me that I didn't mean anything to you." Phoebe fought back her tears, refusing to cry over this. "Why couldn't you just tell me that when you realized I had a crush on you?"

"I... didn't want you to leave though. You were my assistant." Sherlock was confused as to why she was upset even though she just explained it. "Why do you even need friends anyway?"

"Because it's nice to have someone to confide in. Someone who understands me and can make me smile." Phoebe just looked at her menu even though she already knew what she wanted to eat.

"You're not telling me something," Sherlock said, able to read her because of how focus he was.

"What?" Phoebe glanced at him before looking back at her menu, still playing with the pendant on her necklace.

"You are fiddling with your necklace which is something you do when you are anxious or bored. You aren't bored right now so you must be anxious which means you are hiding something," Sherlock said quickly.

"I-I..."

"You aren't afraid of anything, you never have been. What really changed that? You weren't just afraid losing a friend again," Sherlock continued as he leaned in closer to her.

She murmured something under her breath.

"What was that?"

"I am terrified of getting my heart broken again, okay?" Phoebe blinked back tears. "I loved you."

"What?" Sherlock was taken aback. He knew that she liked him, but love? Surely no one could love him. It had only been a pointless little admiration. Right?

"I fell in love with you... I thought for years that I had a chance to be with you, but then you told me that you never thought of me as a friend... it was the worst feeling in the world... I was so lost and I felt like I was all alone even though I wasn't. It felt like someone was choking me when there was no one near me... it was terrifying... I never want it to happen again..." Phoebe rubbed her arm, remembering how heartbroken she was.

She had given her all for Sherlock, but it was all crushed and then stomped on. He made her feel like she was a worthless object. He hadn't just crushed her heart, but her entire spirit.

"You love me?" Sherlock asked quietly.

"No. I did, but I will never be that stupid ever again..." Phoebe stood up. "Please excuse me."

She went to the restroom and breathed deeply.

She felt it again. It was like she suffocating even though she could breath perfectly fine.

"It's over. There's nothing you can do to change it. Just breath," she coached herself as she sat on the toilet lid with her head in her hands. "You're fine. Just get over yourself."

When she went back out, she pretended like nothing even happened. There was food at her place and it was what she had been wanting to order.

"How did you-"

"Your eyes kept stopping at that spot when you were scanning your menu," Sherlock cut her off before continuing to eat.

She sighed and started to eat, wishing this night would end.

"Thank you," she murmured as she gave him a smile, trying to get over herself. She knew that nothing good would come from holding a grudge.

"Of course," Sherlock replied plainly before he started eating. "So, did you still end up going to the training academy?"

"Yeah. I graduated with honors," Phoebe answered after swallowing her food.

"Why wouldn't you get a job at Scotland Yard then?" Sherlock asked curiously, having thought she would've wanted to go for the job she had been striving for.

"I just don't really wanna be a detective anymore..." Phoebe stirred her tea as she sighed softly.

"It's because of me, isn't it?" Sherlock figured, continuing to eat his food.

"Yeah," she admitted, not gonna lie to him.

"Well, I do enjoy your baking so I'm glad you have the bakery," Sherlock said and Phoebe started to feel more comfortable.

"So, how did you and John meet?" Phoebe asked curiously.

"Someone I know brought him to me to share a flat and we caught a serial killer. Well, he killed the serial killer," Sherlock answered and Phoebe hummed softly.

"Sounds like fun. I remember the first murder we solved together. It was actually kinda fun," Phoebe said with a light laugh and Sherlock smiled.

He honestly missed having her by his side to help with cases. He was a full time detective when he was young and it was all for fun, but now that it was serious, he really wanted her help again.

"You could help us with the next case if you're up to it," Sherlock offered and Phoebe smiled at him.

"I might take you up on that," she said with a nod.

The night got better and they both made the best of it.

🔎

"Thank you for dinner, Sherlock. I'm definitely gonna go back there at some point. They've got great food," Phoebe said with a soft smile as they walked into the building.

"I hope this means we don't have to hate each other anymore," Sherlock replied as he stood outside her door with her.

Phoebe smiled as she unlocked the door to her flat. "I guess so." She turned to look at the detective. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Yeah," Sherlock confirmed, but he couldn't stop gazing into her gorgeous brown eyes.

They seemed to sparkle beautifully in the low light, drawing him in.

Before Phoebe could ask if he was alright, his lips were on hers. She Stood there in shock before she kissed him back.

Sherlock felt like he was falling apart while Phoebe was the only thing holding him in one piece. He hadn't felt this sensation since the last time they kissed which was evidently the first time as well.

After a moment, Phoebe pulled back and looked down. She knew that if she gave in, she'd fall in love again and he would only crush her heart a second time.

"Goodnight, Sherlock," she said quickly before slipping into her flat, wanting to forget that the kiss even happened.