Hey guys! Long time no see! Thats my fault on my end ^~^ Sorry. I figured out that you can't force me to write unless I'm in the mood. The only reason I'm posting this one shot is because my best friend made me along with the fact that it goes along with the BBC Sherlock fic I wanna write.

Catherine Watson and Oliver Moriarty belong to me. All other characters either belong to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle or BBC Sherlock.

Enjoy.


Sherlock and Papa raced out the flat, leaving Mrs. Hudson and I alone. Mrs. Hudson sighed and rubbed her eyes.

"Those boys hardly settle down long enough to have a cup of tea," She sighed again as she stood up to stretch and come over to hug me from my perch on the arm of the couch.

"Actually, I'm heading out too, Mrs. Hudson." I say, standing up to shrug my coat on and hug Mrs. Hudson back. "I need to study for my uni finals coming up."

"Oh, you youngsters always on the move!" Mrs Hudson exclaimed in mock exasperation. "Don't stress yourself too much. Take a break and come home before dark."

"I'll try," I call back, already heading out the door while putting throwing my book bag over my shoulder.

I scurry down the steps and head up the sidewalk, zipping my light green coat up. Even though summer had barely come to an end, the air was already feeling crisper and cool as the autumn season prepared to take over London.

I walked a good seven blocks before coming to my destination. Ivy's Tea and Coffee was a cozy little nest with a warm atmosphere with, remarkably, a wide age group range to occupy it's couches and booths.

As I step inside, the crowd today seemed like more elderly people. It made sense, considering it was fairly early morning in the middle of a school week, Older couples sat in silence, sipping tea and reading books, A family with a young girl sat at a table, eating a breakfast of cinnamon buns and muffins. One of the girls who worked there, a friendly brunette a few years older than me, smiled from behind the counter as I walked in.

I waved back and went to my usual two person booth in the corner by a window. I set my book bag and jacket down on one side and went to order a refillable mug.

I came back with my spicy pumpkin coffee and set the steaming mug down on the table while I dug my laptop out of my bag.

My professors were not being generous with the homework load. I had a massive research paper to write, at least ten pages long. I also had some textbook notes to copy as well as a book report on some old historical dinosaur of a book that people defined as a "classic".

I groaned as I pulled up a writing program to start outlining my paper, dreading what the next few hours had in store for me.

"Uh, miss? Are you alright?"

I moaned as my eyes flickered open, then squeezed them closed as I sat up and yawned.

Ivy's was about empty, filled by only a few high schoolers playing some PC game on their laptops. The sunlight outside was fading, and I wiggled my touchpad on my laptop to see it was already 16:25.

The voice I'd heard before cleared it's throat, and I jumped as I finally noticed the person standing beside me.

He looked to be no younger than me. His light brown hair was slightly covering his ears, and his grey eyes were smiling, alive with a piercing fire. He was a good head taller than me, and he held himself with a pride that was not quite cockiness.

Not too shabby. I thought to myself, straightening out my hair and quickly wiping the tiny spot of drool on my face.

"I, uh, noticed you fell asleep at your laptop earlier. Boring assignment?" He questioned, beckoning at my feeble four paragraphs showing on my screen.

"Yeah. It's for uni." I sighed, suddenly wary of the attractive stranger. "Were you watching me sleep?"

He laughed and showed off his easy smile. "No, but I kept glancing over here when I went to refill my coffee and decided that you'd probably appreciate someone waking you up from drooling." He sat down opposite me, gently putting my stuff on the floor.

"Uh, excuse me, did I say you could sit here?" I say, smiling gently so he would take it jokingly.

"Why, I believe you should be grateful! I saved you from public embarrassment." He winked, taking a sip from his own mug of coffee. "I believe you owe me something for my heroic actions."

"Heroic, huh?" I tease, looking distastefully at my frigid cup of cold coffee.

"Here, let me have that." He said, nodding at my coffee. "I'll get you some more."

I smiled and stood up. "So I'll be ever more indebted to your kindness? No way. I'll get my own."

He stood up as well, taking my mug out of my hands and walking towards the coffee refills. "Well, then you shouldn't have a problem with my assistance free of charge."

I laughed and walked along side him, filling my coffee and adding all the sweet and sugary additives and watched him do the same to his own.

We went back to my booth and talked for what seemed like minutes, but turned into hours. Ivy Hopkins, the owner, finally walked over to us.

"It's time to close up, kiddos. Maybe you can plan a date and come back again at a decent time."

I looked down at my watch and gasped. Looking outside only confirmed the time.

"It's 21:47! Papa's probably worried sick!" I stumble as I hurry to grab all my things, shoving them into my bag messily.

"Whoa whoa whoa, slow down there, feisty pants." The man laughed, hefting my book bag onto his shoulder with ease. "Let me get you a taxi."

"I can walk." I say, trying to wrench my book bag out of his hands without success.

"Well then, let's get walking." He said, smiling at my eagerness.

I stepped outside and flipped the hood up off my jacket. We were so deep in conversation that neither of us had even noticed the sudden weather shift.

We took off running down the street, the only few people without an umbrella, and made it back to Baker Street in no time.

We stopped outside the steps, gasping and grinning madly from the adrenaline rush and coffee.

"Well, that was fun." He gasped, handing me my bag and grinning a goofy grin as he caught his breath.

"Yeah," I panted, giving him an equally big grin. "We should do it again sometime."

"I'd like that." He said, calming down and smiling.

"Me too." I felt my face flush as he stepped closer.

"Here, give me your number." He said as he fished his smartphone out of his pocket.

I rattled off the numbers from memory, and he grinned, then frowned, then grinned again, glancing up at me. "You know, we didn't even get each other's names."

He was right. We were so busy talking that formalities had totally escaped us.

"Catherine Watson. Call me Cate."

He smiled as he typed my name in his phone, then put it back in his pocket as he motioned for a taxi.

"Cate. I like it." He said as the cabbie rolled to a stop.

"Aren't you going to tell me your name?" I ask.

He gave me his bright smile and winked as he opened the door.

"Oliver. Oliver Moriarty."

"Can I call you Ollie?"

"You can call me anything you want, 'Catie'." Ollie winked as he closed the door, waving through the window as he drove away.

Oliver Moriarty... I sigh as I watch after his fleeing taxi. The next flash of lightning and booming thunder finally snapped me into jogging inside, unlocking the door with frozen fingers and hurrying inside.

Mrs. Hudson came out of her living room and gaped at my dripping form.

"Goodness gracious, Catherine, you'll catch a cold staying out in the rain like that! You've had John worried sick for hours, and- Why are you smiling?" Mrs. Hudson chuckled as my face turned from lovesick grin to surprise in a flash.

"It was a boy, wasn't it?"

"Of course not! You know what Papa would say about that." I stammer as I trudge upstairs, face burning.

"You don't have to lie to me, dearie. Your secret's safe with me." Mrs. Hudson smiled before returning to her flat and her TV.

I stop just before opening the door to 221B, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself down before opening the door.

Papa was pacing around, hands clasped behind his back and his hair ruffled in anxiety. Sherlock was lounging on the couch, no doubt in his mind palace. He was completely oblivious to me shutting the door and Papa's gasp.

"Cate, where have you been? Mrs. Hudson said you'd be home by dark and it's-" Papa paused to check the wall clock. "22:12! Where have you been?"

Papa's eyes were wide and wild with worry. His hair was in disarray, and his knuckles were white as he grasped my shoulders.

"I went over to Ivy's. I forgot an umbrella so I ran home in the rain." I soothe as Papa hugs me close, despite my sopping wet clothes.

"I'm just gonna go upstairs and clean-"

"What was his name?"

Papa and I turned towards Sherlock's still form. He had one half lidded ice blue eye trained on me, piercing like always. I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

"What are you talking about, Brainiac?" I ask in an attempt to cover my shock.

It didn't work.

"You normally have impeccable timing, and since you have your school bag with you, you were intending to work. You always procrastinate things like that, so you most likely would come home at, if not before, dark. Even if you were attempting to wait out the rain, there were gaps in between small showers in the afternoon before this downpour, more than enough time to get home from Ivy's. You must have gotten distracted, or else you wouldn't be home four hours late. Your face is flushed, no doubt by being in close proximity with an attractive male, as I know your sexual preference, and you are in very fit shape, so you being out of breath and flushed is out of the question, even in this weather. And besides, I saw him get into a cab mere minutes ago while John was down worrying with Mrs. Hudson. Did I miss anything, Catherine?"

Papa and I stare open mouthed at the raven genius as he smirks and closes his eye once more.

"A boy..?" Papa questions, turning to me.

"It wasn't anything serious, Papa. Just some guy who started chatting with me while I was typing my paper."

"And I suspect you have almost nothing done, considering you have tendencies to slack off or nap while-"

"Shut it, Brainiac!" I snap, glaring at Sherlock as he chuckled, body still stoic and slouched.

"I'm gonna go shower and go to bed. Night, Papa." I say hurriedly as I kiss him on his cheek.

"Night, Sherlock." I call as I jog up the stairs.

"Catherine-" Papa calls, but his cry is cut off by my closing the door.

I strip out of my sopping clothes and throw on a nightgown.

~A shower can wait 'til morning.~ I tell myself as I flop down on my bed, pulling out my phone and setting it beside me.

"Oliver." I whisper to myself, smiling softly as I picture his face in my mind. "Oliver..."


John Watson plopped down in a chair, staring blankly at a wall as he ran his fingers through his hair. "A boy. A boy... Sherlock, how could she have met a boy?"

"She was out in public. Typically, there are humans of the other gender in public." Sherlock Holmes said from his lazy spot on the couch.

"Wow, your detective skills never cease to amaze me." John said, narrowing his eyes at his flatmate before resting his head in his hands.

"I sense that was sarcasm, John."

"Again, your skills fill me with awe."


Oliver Moriarty silently stared out the window of the cab at the pouring rain. His face still had a faint smile glued onto it as the cabbie turned onto a side street and stopped at a lull.

The cabbie's phone rang, and he picked up an old, bulky cell phone to answer it.

"Hello... Yes, I've got him... He's sitting in the back seat... Yes, it was the right address... No, I didn't see him... Alright...

"Here." The old cabbie said as he handed Oliver back the phone.

"Hello?" Oliver questioned, already knowing who was on the other end of the call.

"Was it her?" A fairly flamboyant voice asked.

"I'm pretty sure. Said her name was Catherine Watson. Isn't that the new flatmate's name?" I prop my feet up on the top of the driver's seat. The cabbie glared at me from the rearview mirror, but remained silent.

"Yes. John Watson. And was it the right address?"

"221 Baker Street. Not sure about the flat letter, but I bet I can figure it out."

"No need. Theres no one living in there but the old housekeeper. Good work, Oliver."

"As always." I grin in triumph as I glance at the spying cabbie. He glanced away, pretending to not hear my conversation.

"Just don't mess it up with Miss Watson. Remember, we need her to get close to John, and-"

"And John to get close to Sherlock. I know, I know."

"Good. Now, hurry home. It's only a matter of waiting it out until you get close with Catherine and Sherlock. Then, our plans may be set to action."

"Of course. We're on our way." I say as I hang up the phone and toss it back to the cabbie.

"Anything new?" He asked, throwing the car in drive again and pulling out into the late night traffic.

"Nope. Just a status report. Didn't say anything about your little pill experiment." I stretch my legs across the back seat and close my eyes.

The cabbie merely grunted and kept on driving.

As I was drifting off, I couldn't help but keeping about Catherine.

Catherine Watson. She wasn't to bad. She could actually hold an intelligent conversation with me, which is new. I thought to myself as I drifted off. This might turn out to be quite the game.


Bet 'cha can't guess who was on the phone. ;) Review please! Love you guys!