Before we can say anything else to each other my ears perk up at the sound of my nickname, "Red! Hey!" I look to my left and smile warmly. Brooklyn, my best friend and soul sister even, is walking over with mischievous brown eyes and slightly ruffled short black hair.

"Oh, hey, Brook!" I greet and we exchange kisses on the cheek and a hug, "You off on lunch break already?" She puffs.

"I traded times with Garrett today, had to get away and breathe. Fancy running into you here though!" She exclaims, willfully invading my personal bubble and rubbing arms with me. Of the two of us, she's the touchy feely, creative and extroverted friend. I chuckle.

"Who is this?" John asks politely, bouncing Rosie a bit. I smile.

"John, Sherlock, this is my best friend- Brooklyn Astle. Brook, these are Doctor John Watson and Sherlock Holmes. And of course, Rosie Watson." I introduce. Brooklyn shakes hands with John and even Sherlock.

"It's a pleasure to meet you two. Susanna says working for you is never the least bit dull. She certainly enjoys this post with Rosie."

"You're also American?" Sherlock muses, reading her. Brooklyn nods.

"I work for the U.S. Embassy here in London."

"Security Work." Brooklyn nods, unwilling to reveal anything further. I give Sherlock a look, telling him to let her be. He shifts unhappily but doesn't pry any further.

Brooklyn gazes down at her watch and hisses, "I'd better hurry along to lunch then. They'll send out for me after too long."

"Alright then. Run along. Can't have you being late." We kiss each other's cheeks again and hug one last time.

"See you later, Red!"

"See ya!" I wave as she jogs off.

"You're quite close to her." Sherlock deduces.

"She's the closest I have to a sister. I've known her since I was fifteen." I reply. John chuckles.

"Why did she call you Red?"

"Red is my favorite color, and at our first meeting I was wearing bright red converse when I invited her to sit with me in class," I explain, "She's never let me forget that detail of our friendship."

"You talk about us to your friends and family often?" Sherlock asks, his hands under his chin. I shrug.

"Not in excess. Just tidbits here and there. I don't divulge sensitive information." This satisfies the consulting detective and he nods. We all sit down together on the bench to watch birds and people. John and I talk about things and Sherlock buries his nose in his phone.

About thirty minutes later my danger antennae goes off again, the familiar sernsation of being stalked flooding my body. I stop talking and glance around, "Susanna?"

"I'm getting that feeling again," I murmur, watching for signs of suspicious movement. Sherlock shuts off his phone and becomes fully alert, standing up to get a better vantage point, "Sherlock..."

He holds up one hand to hush me, turning around to get a good look at our surroundings. I sigh. Shouldn't have said anything. Now I've got a detective and a doctor jumping on the notion that someone is watching me.

"The shrubs along the path where you were walking with Rosie. Movement consistent with people crawling along with equipment," Sherlock breathes, gesturing to the hedging about forty meters from us, "Vatican Cameos!" John immediately drops Rosie in my lap and the duo take off on a run. The bushes immediately come to life with movement and I clutch Rosie close.

At least three people, clad completely in camouflage and black, materialize from the bushes and in a chaotic mess start scrambling away from Sherlock and John. Carrying camera equipment, from the looks of it, and each are armed. I feel a mile high spike of adrenaline as I register gunfire from the stalkers. Shielding Rosie, I throw myself onto the ground to dodge a short yet lethal spray of bullets and cover my head.

Aren't parks supposed to be peaceful!?

It seems like a blink of an eye to me as the police show up, sirens blaring, and tape is put up. John rushes over, "Are you okay, Susanna?!" I roll onto my back and offer Rosie to him, wincing.

"My right side's sore but no permanent damage. Rosie's fine," I reply. I press my hands over my eyes as another migraine sets in, "Did you catch them?"

"You sure you're okay, Susanna?" I hear him kneel down next to me, probably assuming doctor mode.

"Migraine," Sherlock cuts in suddenly, "I don't suppose that the gunfire followed by the more than likely impact of your head upon the ground triggered this one, Susanna?" I nod.

"Do you think you can sit up?" John inquires. I purse my lips, "I need to make sure you don't have a concussion." I remove my hands from my eyes and will myself to my feet before sitting back down on the bench. John hands Rosie back to me and starts checking me over.

"Did you catch them?" I ask.

"We got one of them. The other two got away," Sherlock answers. My heart sinks, "It would appear you are in fact being stalked, Susanna."

Thank you all for reading!