Disclaimer: They don't belong to us. We can only wish. And we do.
More to come, but we're little busy as of now, but we'll try to do something about it. Be assured it's going to get interesting...
(P.S.: We're not related to Gollum, we're collaborating.)
Backstair (a.) Private; indirect; secret; intriguing; - as if finding access by the back stairs.
Bang. The front door of Baker Street 221B smashed closed and the world famous detective, known also as Sherlock Holmes began running upstairs to the living room he shared with his flatmate, personal blogger and/or nanny, Doctor John Watson.
"John! I got it! It was so simple I just cannot understand how long it took me. I think even Lestrade would be able to solve this one... in a week, maybe, but still..." he shouted, in his voice mixing frustration of a perfectionist and smugness of a narcis.
"John," he stopped at the doorstep to the living room. John quickly stood up from the sofa, but he wasn't alone. Next to him turned up an unknown man. He was in his early thirties, not tall, more like John's height, short dark hair. He was dressed in clothes for a far younger person than he was, in black jeans, burgundy hoodie and sneakers. He grinned at Sherlock. Sherlock immediately hated him.
This is not a customer, flashed through his mind, but soon as he could start deducing information about the man, John said:
"Sherlock, this is, uhm, Jim." He's feeling awkward, thought Sherlock.
"We are...*cough*...dating." John blushed, but Jim reached his hand to Sherlock.
"It's pleasure to meet you, Mr. Holmes, I've heard about you so much!"
"Of course you have." Sherlock didn't accept his hand and turned his eyes to John, looking for an explanation, why is his seemingly straight friend suddenly introducing him his boyfriend.
"Uhm... Jim is the new guy at 's. We met at New Year's Eve Party."
"I always thought that doctors sleeping with nurses is too big a cliche, even for you, John" snapped out Sherlock bluntly.
John blushed even more furiously, his face getting to an awful shade of red.
"Actually, Mr. Holmes, I'm not a nurse. I'm a new cardiologist. But I must say, it flatters me that you've read me wrong. I would made a career as a master of disguise, with this reference." winked Jim.
He's not so daft as most of the people, thought Sherlock. And there's something weird about him. He confuses me, he realised suddenly.
"Now excuse me, I have some work to do. As, surely, you do too." he said coldly.
He turned his back on them and shut the door of his room behind himself. John sighed, this was even worse than he had thought it would be.
Jim caressed his hand and John looked up at him: "Don't worry, he'll come to terms with it... Somehow. Someday."
From behind the door they could hear quick violin concerto.
Now this is interesting on several points:
A) John, who never showed any inclinations of being gay is dating a man. I never thought he had such appalling taste.
B) He confuses me. This doesn't happen. Ever.
The basic facts were laid before him to be seen - the "Jim" was apparently not as dumb as majority of people, he was quite well off - the clothes weren't the cheapest ones. He cared about his appearance... But that was as far as Holmes could get, nothing more though his mind was pacing at a furious speed.
Sherlock heard a knock on the door and for a moment stopped playing, then begun again. John came in.
"What was that supposed to mean? You enjoy destroying every relationship I might've tried to form?" Watson snapped at him
"This one comes as bit of a surprise, don't you think?"
"Why does it matter to you?"
"I'm surprised. That should flatter you. Your boyfriend" he said that word with unconcievable disdain "indeed was."
"I'd be flattered more if I mattered to you at least as little that you'd try to be, well, not nice, but at least not plainly rude to somebody else I care for."
"I don't like him."
"You like nobody. But try to behave." John had thought of many mean things he could say, but didn't want to... What? Hurt Holmes? He wasn't even sure it's possible.
"So stop dragging uninvited guests in my flat."
"Yours? Thought it was our flat..."
"Never mind it, you didn't answer my question - why, all of a sudden, a man?"
John looked puzzled by intensity of Sherlock's inquiry, there flashed a spark of hope through his eyes, but quickly died out as he realised that this is only another mystery to occupy Sherlock's mind.
Sherlock, though genius, didn't understand Johns brief pause, neither did he decode the emotion in his eyes or understood the subtle sadness in his answer.
"I was revising some things in my life." with that he walked out of the bedroom. "I won't be in tonight!" he shouted from the door that clicked behind him.