You See But Do Not Observe

QUESTIONS

"No luck?" She looked toward Daniel, who was rotating in his office chair slowly.

"Of course not. I spent the whole time thinking about you."

John sighed, and Serena smiled cheekily at the unaware Sherlock. "I'm flattered." She said.

"I-I didn't mean..."

"No, I knew exactly what you meant. So, what else have you figured out?" She asked tauntingly as they got into the elevator.

"You and Lestrade know each other pretty well, don't you?"

John stared at Serena. "You two weren't...you, know, together, were you?"

Serena laughed. "Lestrade and I? Isn't he married?"

"He left his wife again." Sherlock said.

"Good for him." Serena said, still laughing slightly. "You're correct. I asked Lestrade a favor when I first moved. He made sure Serena Gambles didn't exist, and replaced her with Amanda."

"Why?"

"I was sick of my name."

"Hilarious."

"I should consider a career change."

Sherlock didn't say another word. Maybe that's why Serena felt compelled to tell him the slightest bit of the truth. She warped it a tad, just enough to stop him from inquiring.

"The real reason that I needed to escape was because being Serena Gambles was ruining my life. No one cared when she disappeared."

"Serena Gambles is more interesting than Amanda." Sherlock remarked.

Serena looks at Sherlock. The words chilled her to the bone, and she could remember why. That part of her life had been buried so deep it fell on her from above.

"Yeah, well," She said as a way of answering.

They walked downstairs silently, Serena trying to shake off the shivers running up and down her spine.

"What was with the roses?" John asked, and Serena shrugged.

"Who knows? It wouldn't be the first time." She said without thinking.

"The first time?"

She blushed. "Nothing. Never mind. The only strange thing is that they were yellow roses."

"It's a popular flower."

"Red, maybe, but yellow? It's strange because they're my least favorite flower. Yellow roses."

"You have a least favorite flower?" Sherlock asked.

"Too boring for you?" Serena said.

"No one has a least favorite flower."

"Except me."

"Do you have a favorite?"

"No."

Sherlock rolled his eyes as if to say Serena made no sense.

"Are you really allergic, or..." John asked, but faltered at a withering look from Sherlock.

A cab pulled up, and Serena slid into a seat opposite Sherlock and John.

"About the case..." She paused to find a way to say this tactfully, "We don't have any leads, do we?"

Sherlock shrugged. "We don't need one. All serial killers want desperately to get caught. We just have to wait for this one."

"But, if he wants to be caught, won't he commit another murder?" Serena asked.

"Most likely." Serena blanched.

"Sherlock! You didn't think to tell the police this." John said.

"Oh, right. We have to go through them."

Serena felt anger bubbling up inside her. "You do remember that the killer is targeting my patients?"

"Yes, I do remember." Sherlock said.

"And you didn't think to, I don't know, warn the police before now?"

Sherlock stopped talking. He took out his phone and Serena saw him tapping away.

"There, happy? I sent a message to Lestrade. I'm sure he'll track your patients. If one does disappear, we'll know, and we'll be able to save them."

Serena wasn't so sure, but she didn't have a choice but to trust the police.

"I hope you are right." She said.

"Try to have a little faith."

"It's hard to have faith in people when they always betray you." The words tumbled from her tongue, and she cursed herself inwardly. She had let her guard fall.

"What do you mean? Who's betrayed you?" Sherlock pounced on the words.

"No one." Serena said. "Is it just me, or is it hot in here?"

"Why do you always wear long-sleeves?"

"God! Do you always analyze everything everyone says? If that's true, it's no wonder nobody likes you."

John's eyes went wide, and Serena instantly felt overwhelmingly guilty. Sherlock wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Shit." She swore. "Shit, I'm so sorry."

He met her eyes, and they were pale green, chips of jade, frozen and unfeeling, masking the whirlwind of hurt she knew was there, because she understood how he worked.

"I'm going to get off." Serena said. "Stop the cab." The cab slowed down, and she jumped out before it stopped moving.

She shoved a twenty at the cabbie, and hurried toward her building.

She walked up the stairs slowly, fumbling in her pocket for her keys. She reached her door, still looking down at her pocket. The key slid into the lock, and she headed inside, closing and locking the door behind her.

She collapsed on her couch, pulling the blanket around her. She always, always, always screwed things up. Every time he got close to a secret, she lashed out. She never got angry with anyone else, but around Sherlock, it was as if her emotions were turned to full power. She couldn't control anything. But it was her fault, and she felt terrible.

How hurt he looked, hiding the pain but not quite well enough. She had surprised him. He hadn't had time to cover it up before she saw it.

The pit in her stomach made her feel like she was about to hurl. She really did care about John and Sherlock. They made her feel wanted again. She hadn't felt wanted for a very long time.

She pressed her fingers against her scalp, nearly to the point of grabbing her hair and ripping it out. There had to be something she could do. Something to apologize.

She wasn't sure why her mind jumped to that. But it brought a faint smile to her face, and that was reason enough to do it.

She knocked on his door several times, balancing the box on one hand. She could hear the sound of a shower running through the wall. Maybe it was John. That could explain why no one was answering.

She knocked again and waited for a minute or two.

She rapped hard on the door. "Go away!" A surly voice said. She hit the door with her entire fist resolutely.

She saw the doorknob turning and took a deep breath.