Hi! After spending my half term binging on Sherlock I just couldn't help myself. I hope to update regulalry but now that I am back to planning lessons and marking work I'm not sure how regularly that will be. I'll try to make up for it with longer chapters though.Feedback is much appreciated. Enjoy!
I don't own Sherlock...
'The alchemists in their search for gold discovered many other things of greater value' Arthur Shopenhauer
Chapter 1
'A great mind becomes a great fortune'
Seneca the Younger
"John, I consider my mind a great fortune. It is going to waste," Doctor John Watson had just walked through the door of 221B Baker Street carrying several plastic bags laden with shopping up a flight of stairs. His flatmate, wearing a dressing gown over his clothes, was lying on their sofa staring up at the ceiling. Coming home to his flat mate in this mood was never a pleasant experience. He would rather spend an entire day shopping with his mother than walk through the front door.
John's flatmate was an interesting character. He was a genius. There was no other word for it although, if you asked the people they knew and the people they met in the street, there were a whole range of colourful words to describe this enigmatic man. He had his good days usually involving a mad dash across the bustling city of London in pursuit of a violent serial killer. In his flat mates eyes this was considered fun. John on the other hand considered a good book or a trip to the cinema as fun. Today was a bad day. There were no serial killers or mass murders to pursue only normal mundane day to day activities like shopping something John's flatmate claimed as boring. John's flatmate was none other than Sherlock Holmes. In his own words, 'the world's only consultant detective.'
"Why don't I have a case!" Sherlock shot to his feet in frustration. When they first met John would have hoped that Sherlock would be on his way to help with the shopping. This hope soon crashed and burned.
"Have you checked the blog?" John asked despite anticipating the answer.
Sherlock gave John an 'of course I've checked the blog' look. "I need a case. An exciting case. A case with bodies, preferably several,' Sherlock had taken to pacing. John ignored him and put away the shopping. John hated to agree with Sherlock but he would also like a case. It had been two weeks and four days, not that he had been counting, and Sherlock was becoming unbearable. After the first two days John swore never to play cluedo with the consultant detective ever again.
John finished unpacking everything apart from the fridge food. He had deliberately put that off out of fear for what lay inside the fridge. Last week it had been a hand. He opened the fridge. A head. Naturally.
"Bored!"
A knock on the door caused the inhabitants of 221 B to exchange a look. John really hoped this was a case. Mrs Hudson, their landlady, bustled into the room. "Oh Sherlock, you really ought to think about tidying this place up a bit"
"I quite agree Mrs Hudson," John answered with a meaningful look at Sherlock who ignored it like he did most things.
"Urrrgh John I want a case. Find me a case," Sherlock knocked a stack of papers that John had sorted the night before onto the floor causing Mrs Hudson to jump.
"Sherlock, you shouldn't do that. They look important," Mrs Hudson picked them in an attempt to tidy up a bit. John muttered to himself.
"I only wanted to inform you I am going away," she explained whilst clearing away a plate of slightly mouldy toast.
This caught Sherlock's attention, "away?"
"Yes. My sister has invited me to say," she exaggerated.
"Your sister," Sherlock repeated with a slight frown.
"In Brighton. To enjoy the summer," Mrs Hudson
"That's great. Did you hear that John. No case and Mrs Hudson is leaving us," Sherlock flopped onto the couch and rolled onto his side curling up so he was facing the cushions.
"I am in the same room of course I heard," John ignored his friend's dramatics, "have a nice time Mrs Hudson. We will look after the place."
"Oh you needn't worry about that. I know you are busy," Sherlock muttered something into the cushions as she reassured them, "I have invited someone to house sit."
For the second time that hour Sherlock shot to his feet and headed straight for Mrs Hudson, "who?" Sherlock and John had always considered Mrs Hudson as the single most important thing in 221 Baker Street. Sherlock was a man of habits. Mrs Hudson leaving defied this completely. Even if it was only for a few weeks.
He observed her every detail, "A relation. Someone you don't know very well. A cousin. Twice removed. Female. Young. You feel sorry for her."
"We need to find you a case," John sighed at his friend's obvious showing off although as always he was still amazed. How did Sherlock figure that out this time?
Mrs Hudson momentarily lost her words, he really was remarkable, "yes that's right."
"Don't worry we will look after her," John reassured, "what's her name?"
"Harriet," Mrs Hudson answered.
"Don't get your hopes up John," Sherlock said once Mrs Hudson had closed the door behind her. "Sympathy. Mrs Hudson has invited her to get away from something. Or rather someone. A man. Why would she get involved with another?"
Two say later Mrs Hudson got into a black cab outside 221 Baker Street. Its inhabitants were stood at the cabs door. "Have a nice trip, don't eat too much ice cream," John said as he passed her the handbag she always carried with her.
"Good bye Mrs Hudson. I hope your trip is adequate," it was the best they were going to get from Sherlock. John had the misfortune of putting up with his sulks and moods. They still had no case and Mrs Hudson leaving only served to make Sherlock's mood worse. John had been very insistent that Sherlock be nice to Mrs Hudson who was, as he pointed out, perfectly entitled to a holiday away from them or more specifically Sherlock.
"Harriet will arrive late tonight," Mrs Hudson fussed.
"We promise to look after her," John reassured the worrying landlady.
With the taxi having turned from the road Sherlock turned back into the house mumbling something about not needing to babysit an emotional woman. John once again ignored him and hoped that Harriet would be a suitable distraction if only for a few minutes otherwise John was very tempted to go out and commit a series of murders to get rid of the foul mood that Sherlock was in. The longer time passed the more is seemed to be a sensible option until the prospect of jail surfaced in his thoughts. He followed Sherlock inside with great reluctance and more than welcomed the arrival of their temporary guest.
