Hello! So the setting is right after The Blind Banker. I'm going to try and update once a week, but if it takes me longer just message me and tell me to hurry up. I adore reviews. I live on them. Reviews keep me alive to write the stories. Keep 'em coming. As usual, I own nothing, just my character, Diane. Enjoy lovelies! :)
I took a deep breath, bracing myself before knocking on the door of 221 Baker street. I had spoken over the phone to an Mrs. Hudson about a flatshare and she said she had a room left in 221b I could have. After straightening up and tucking an unruly curl of my short dark brown hair behind my ear, I hopped up on the step and knocked. An old woman whom I guessed was Mrs. Hudson opened the door.
"Oh hello dear! Diane, am I right?" She said.
"Hi! Yes I'm Diane. We spoke over the phone about a room?" I answered while shaking her hand.
"Ah yes. Come in and I"ll show you up."
"Ok" I replied as I grabbed my bags and followed her in.
As we went up the stairs I absentmindedly counted how many there were. 17. Good to know. Mrs. Hudson knocking brought me away from my thoughts.
"Boys, it's me and Diane. Remember, she's taking the spare room." We heard a grunt and shuffling before a short man in a jumper with greyish-blonde hair opened the door.
"Oh, hi. I'm John." He smiled.
"Diane Blacke." I shook his hand.
Seems nice, I thought. Must've spent some time in the military going by his stance and haircut. Somewhere where he could get a tan...
"Uh, come on in." He opened the door wider.
"Thank you." I smiled back as me an Mrs. Hudson walked in.
"Here, let me take those bags." He took them before I could protest and set them by a large stack of Guns and Ammo magazines. Huh, interesting.
It was then that I noticed another man sitting in an armchair facing the kitchen. He had dark, curly hair that came down on on side of his forehead, sweeping across his brow. He also had exceptionally high cheekbones and the most beautiful blue-grey-green eyes I had ever seen. After a good thirty seconds I realized I was staring, but the odd thing was, he was staring right back at me. And I might be wrong, but he almost looked flabbergasted at the sight of me, his mouth slightly open. He covered it up quickly though, his face going back to emotionless. He stood up and walked over to us, straightening his suit.
"Sherlock Holmes." He shook my hand.
"Diane Blacke." I said, looking up at him. He wasn't much taller than me, maybe two inches.
"Come on dear, I'll show you the room." Mrs. Hudson reminded me.
"Oh, yes." I replied, following her back behind the kitchen to a hallway with three doors, John and Sherlock behind me.
"This is it." She said, opening the door to the right. "The bathroom is the room opposite yours and Sherlocks room is the room straight ahead. John sleeps upstairs."
I looked around, taking everything in. So my bedroom is the one next to the handsome Sherlocks bedroom. He seems like an interesting flatmate. I walked into my room and looked around. It was pretty decent sized. The walls were a light blue and there was a bed in the far left corner beside the window. A good sized wardrobe and a closet.
"I will take it!" I exlaimed turning back to Mrs. Hudson. It was a very good deal for what I was getting, even though I really don't have to worry about money, as I came from a well off family and don't have to work much. Or at all really.
"Wonderful!" Mrs. Hudson smiled. "I'll leave you to unpacking then. And I'll bring up a cuppa later, but just this once dear, I'm not your house keeper.
"Ok, thank you." I answered, chuckling at her 'not your house keeper' bit. I walked out with her, about to retrieve my bags, when Sherlock came by, carrying my bags!
"Um, thanks." I said, watching him turn into my hummed an response. As I started to walk back over to my bedroom, I noticed John was watching Sherlock as well, looking confused.
"He doesn't seem to be one who would help out like that." I remarked to John, who was still looking confused.
"No, he's not." John stated. "He must like something about you."
I blushed slightly before looking away.
"He's just being nice." I insisted.
"If you say so." He grinned before returning to his seat.
I shook my head and went back into my room, where Sherlock was just opening one of my bags, which were set on the bed.
"You have an index for all of your clothes." He remarked, unzipping the other bag.
"Well, yeah. I do odd things like that." I blushed, wishing he hadn't seen my underwear index, that was on top.
"I do it too." Sherlock confessed.
"Oh really." I laughed.
"Yes." His cheek twitched as if he were trying not to smile as well.
"Well, I'm going to unpack now. Thanks for bringing my bags in."
He walked out without replying. I sighed then carefully went about to unpacking, putting all the stacks of clothes in order in the wardrobe.
About an hour later, I walked back out to the living room, where I saw the two men back in their chairs, John on his laptop and Sherlock reading an old book. I also noticed tea Mrs. Hudson must had brought up and helped myself. As I sat in a chair that was closer to Sherlock I looked over at the mantelpiece and found a skull staring back at me.
"Is that a real skull?" I asked before taking a sip of my tea.
"Yes. Friend of mine." Sherlock replied without taking his eyes off his book, which he obviously wasn't reading.
"Does he have a name?" I wondered, slightly amused, both at the skull and at Sherlock.
"Billy." Sherlock looked over at the skull and the back at me.
"Nice name." I said getting up and getting a closer look. "Hi Billy." I smiled at the skull. John looked over at me with a glint of humor in his eye.
"You two should get along well." He grinned.
"I guess so." I smiled back at him.
"Oh, I forgot to ask earlier, Afghanistan or Iraq?" I turned to face John, who was staring at me, mouth wide open. I turned to look at Sherlock, who also looked quite surprised.
"What?" John asked.
"You were in the army, I was just wondering-Afghanistan or Iraq?"
John cleared his throat before answering. "Afghanistan."
"Oh." I said. "Are you still working as a doctor too?" John looked up, astounded again. I heard Sherlock chuckle behind me.
"Erm, yes. In a clinic."
"Ah." I said. "I'm sorry about your shoulder." I added.
John looked at me, then at Sherlock,then back to me again.
"Did you tell her anything?" John asked Sherlock, who was still chuckling.
"Nope."
"Well then, I guess we've found someone else like you, even though she's nicer."
"What?" I asked, starting to get confused.
"Sherlock does that same thing. Where you deduct peoples past by observing them and all that." John answered me.
"Oh." I said, excited. "I thought so."
"You thought so." Sherlock said, much deeper than his normal tone, as he stood up, inches away fro my face.
"Yes." I replied, standing my ground, keeping eye contact.
"And what else do you 'think'?" He asked.
I looked at him before answering. "You come from a wealthy family as well. You really don't like your older brother, you play violin, you conduct many useless scientific experiments when you're bored, and you consider yourself an high-functioning sociopath but you really aren't." "Most of that however, I got from looking around the flat, you are a very hard person to read, Mr. Holmes."
"Hmm." Sherlock hummed, amusement and curiosity in his blue-grey (at the moment) eyes looking back down into my own dark blue-green ones.
I was about to walk away when he grabbed my arm.
"Do you like solving murders, Ms. Blacke?" He asked with a glint in his eye.
"Love to." I truthfully answered, starting to feel giddy inside.
"John!" Sherlock turned me to him. "We have a new assistant!" Sherlock grinned at him then at me, both of us, in turn grinned back.