The silent opening of the door signalled an unauthorised breach of his workspace, and as a subjectively private person Sherlock Holmes tended not to take kindly to these sorts of disruptions. However, he was also an inquisitive man and was intrigued to have a look at this intruder that was brave enough to take up his valuable time with what assumably would be simple trivial questions about quite obvious facts that he would have to yet again answer, to help the lesser minds understand. Surprisingly though, instead of seeing a lab-coat-clad 'co-worker', Sherlock was looking at a rather plain man, seemingly around the age of 40. His hair and face looked soft, kind, but with a pensive undertone; suggesting that he had seen action - possibly serving, the exact place was not of importance though. Clothing-wise the range was limited, dull colours didn't help imbibe the already common outfit with anything that could remotely suggest interesting. The cane that the man held onto was worn-down, either it was old or he gripped onto the stick very tightly; the latter sounded more likely though as concluding that this person was an unstable war veteran with a psychosomatic limp was more founded than any other assumption Sherlock could make.
The man held out his hand towards Sherlock,
"Hello, I'm John Watson." he waited for Sherlock to reciprocate the gesture but soon realised that the man was engrossed in his work, or at least appeared to be. The other man that entered the room after John was someone that Sherlock recognised, Mike Stamford, an old friend of his. As their friendship is not that of a close one, and as Sherlock had mentioned earlier that day that he was looking for a flatmate to share the rent with, he assumed that Mike had brought John here as a potential candidate for that role. Though John did look somewhat underwhelming, he appeared to be of the reliable sort and one that would keep to himself; well-suited to be his new flatmate.
"Violin music, are you averse to it?"
John looked confused by this sudden remark.
"I'm sorry?" He replied.
Sherlock, becoming quite frustrated with the incompetence of this potential flatmate, quickly explained,
"I play the violin when I'm thinking, would this bother you?"
"Bother me?" John responded, perplexed. Stamford obviously hadn't told him about the possible flat-share that he would be partaking in.
Directing John towards the other man, Sherlock exclaimed,"Stamford?"
Whilst Stamford explained the situation to Mr Watson, Sherlock heard the silent vibrations of his phone against the stone work-surface on the other side of the room. Hastily making his way over to the device, he promptly picked it up and checked the most recent notification. Sherlock slipped the phone into his left suit pocket and walked past the two other men on his way to the coat rack, throwing on his coat and scarf.
"Sorry, what's this about a flat-share? We barely know each other. And, where are you going?"John declared quite abruptly, again, frustrating Sherlock. This man really was becoming more infuriating every time he opened his mouth. Spouting his earlier deductions to John, Sherlock started on his way out, but was stopped mid-step when an unexpected set of words were uttered from the Doctor's mouth.
"Brilliant, absolutely brilliant." It sounded almost as if he was saying it in disbelief. However, ironically, it was Sherlock who stood there completely shocked and at a loss for words. "Why do you look so surprised?" John followed up.
"That's not what people usually say."
"Well, what do they usually say?" John looked at Sherlock expectantly.
"Piss off." Sherlock retorted.
A smile split across John's face, and subsequently Sherlock let a small smirk onto his. As he slipped back to the door, Watson stepped towards him with haste.
"Wait, I don't even know who you are."
Sherlock turned to face John, leaning half-in and half-out of the door.
"The name's Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221B Baker Street, good day."
With that, Sherlock withdrew from the hospital, leaving a perplexed John Watson in his wake.