Author' note~
Sherlock and its characters don't belong to me, they belong to Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss and BBC... The only thing i own is the OC (Soren)
This Is one of my first 3rd-person fanfics... Reviews are always welcome!
Rated M for safety precautions!.
Sherlock's day started out as usual. Mrs. Hudson would make a kettle of tea, and he would come downstairs where she and John, his flatmate, would both be sitting in the living quarters, John with his coffee and one piece of toast most likely reading the morning paper, and Mrs. Hudson would most likely be trying to tidy up the kitchen where he keeps all of his experiments. The drowsy detective wrapped a sheet around himself and made his way into the living room.
"Oh, good morning, Sherlock! I've made you a nice cuppa tea" The elderly landlady informed Sherlock. Sherlock half-smiled and nodded, "Thank you, Mrs. Hudson." He took the brown mug from her hands and sat across from his quiet flatmate.
"Morning Sherlock." John enunciated the K in Sherlock's looked up and stared at John, curious why he enunciated his name like that. "Likewise." Was all he said in response. John continued to flip through the newspaper, acting as if Sherlock wasn't even sighed, and grabbed his phone off the coffee table to see a text from his brother Mycroft
I have a case for you; its of national importance.-MH
Sherlock rolled his eyes and deleted it from his didn't give a shit about what his brother needed, or if his brother needed him. Just , his phone buzzed, notifying him he had received another text. Figuring it was another from Mycroft, he intended to delete it. But what was written, or rather typed, on the screen almost made him drop his phone.
i'm back. Miss me, Sherry? -SA
Sherlock cleared his throat and made a mad dash to his room and closed the door. He looked at the text over and over again, and then got dressed in his signature black vest and deep royal purple outfit with black slacks. He dashed out, grabbed his grey pea coat and blue scarf and hastily put them on.
"I'm going out, please don't follow me!" He called out as he rushed out into the cold London air outside of his home at 221B Baker Street. He looked down, and texted that number again
Where are you? -SH
It took less than a minute until his phone buzzed with a response. It plainly said:
Our old meeting place. -SA
Sherlock shoved the phone into his pocket and briskly walked to the corner of his home street. He took a sharp left into a dark alleyway, and came to a stop in front of a heavy iron door. He knocked twice, and the door swung open to show a woman, slim and tall, her black hair fell in ringlets around her face and framed her sharp angular face. Her emerald and blue eyes lit up when she saw who her visitor was.
"Well, you didn't forget. Good to see you, Sherry" Her eyes seemed to glow in the dim light of the alleyway.
"Likewise, Soren. You're beautiful as always." Sherlock smiled a coy half-smile. Soren stood to the side and held her hand out to the doorway, "Please, do come in. We have much to talk about, Sherlock Holmes." They exchanged a glance, then Sherlock leaned in and kissed the woman's red lips.
"Yes we do indeed." He walked into the building, and she closed the door behind them both. A few yards away was a shocked and confused John, watched as his flatmate, and best friend, walked into the shady building.
Reviews are most welcomed! I'll try to update it as much as i can! 3