HELLO! I am really very excited about writing this. I've written a few chapters already and I promise at least an update a week unless I absolutely can't. Sherlock doesn't actually appear in this chapter but HEY, if I get positive reviews in the next day or so then I shall post it ASAP. Please let me know what you think of this idea. Thanks!

. . .

"Wakey-wakey, Scarlett! I know it's the summer holidays but that is no excuse to sleep till noon. Up you get! I'll put the toast on."

Scarlett Daniels groaned and pulled the covers right over her head, curling up into a ball of warmth and creating her own little bubble in which she hadn't a care in the world. She did not want to get up. There was absolutely NOTHING to do. Well, that was not entirely true as there is always something to do in London but everything just seemed to bore her lately. It was becoming an endless cycle of meaninglessness, was her life. She didn't see why she couldn't simply lie in bed all day, it wouldn't make any difference to the world, would it? She was merely a speck on this planet. Nobody would notice if she stayed curled up in this bubble all day.

Still, her mother was making her toast downstairs and she used that as motivation to pop her head out from under the duvet. Despite the dopey state of mind she was in, something immediately caught Scarlett's eye. Or rather... It didn't catch her eye.

Suddenly the duvet was thrown off and she was scanning the walls of her small bedroom. Where WERE they? Gone? What had happened to them?

Not tired anymore, more confused and slightly feather-ruffled, the seventeen year old began bounding down the stairs, looking much like a lioness looking for her lost cubs.

As expected, her mother was there in the kitchen, buttering some toast. Everything was normal and boring and the sound of the BBC news came flittering into her ears from the television in the corner.

"Mum, what have you done with my Sherlock stuff?"

The girl's mother frowned and looked up from the toast. She looked genuinely confused which was certainly not what Scarlett had been expecting. She had expected her to look guilty for moving the precious posters of her favourite tv show. The woman KNEW how obsessed her daughter was with it and how she could get lost in the world of Sherlock Holmes and his crime solving adventures. So, why did she look like she had never heard of it all before?

"Sherlock...? What's that then? You know that I would never touch your things, Scarlett. Ha. As if you would let me."

And her attention was back onto the toast.

Okay, now Scarlett was beyond confused. What the hell was going on? Some kind of large scale prank?

"Um. April's Fools Day has passed, mother. It's not funny. What have you done with my posters?"

The bronze-haired woman looked up from the toast again sharply, a glint of annoyance in her hazel eyes.

"Don't talk to me like that, young lady. I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about. Now, are you going to eat breakfast or should I not have even bothered?"

Scarlett was backing towards the stairs now. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Ignoring her mother's annoyed tone, she rushed into the living room to see her ten year old sister lying on the sofa, watching the telly.

Time to get some answers. Scarlett thought now that either she was dreaming or this was some kind of attempt to cease her obsession with the detective show. Yeah, like that was going to happen. It would take more than removing a few posters to achieve THAT.

"Rosie..? Wanna watch Sherlock with me later on?"

The girl's head turned to face her sister. She looked incredibly like Scarlett. Long, auburn hair that went down to her waist. A pretty smile and a cute button nose. The only thing that varied entirely was the eyes. Rosie's eyes were hazel, like their mothers, whereas Scarlett's were as blue as the sea.

"Is Sherlock a film? And if it IS a film... Does it have witches in? I really like witches. I think I am a witch, you know. We should play that, Scarlett! Witches, yes! Play witches with me?"

The puppy dog eyes were turned on as the young girl leaned over the sofa, pleading to her elder sister with every inch of her being.

Scarlett was far too distracted to be taken in by it though. There was a feeling in the pit of her stomach. She felt like she was in some sort of awesome Doctor Who episode in which all mention and/or existence of the man, Sherlock Holmes, had been erased.

Silly as that sounded, she simply HAD to check. Taking the stairs two at a time, she allowed her imagination to run wild. So many 'what if' thoughts dancing through her mind, pirouetting into intricate ideas and theories. That was how her mind worked, you see. She was a dreamer. The question was... Is she dreaming NOW?

An hour was spent by the redhead on her computer, scouring the internet and draining it dry. Throughout her research the confusion had grown but... So had the excitement. It was not that there was no Sherlock Holmes in this... Dream, or whatever it was. Quite the opposite, actually. There WAS a Sherlock Holmes. Not a fictional one but a real one.

'The Science of Deduction' website was the first site Scarlett visited. Obviously, she had been on it before, as every fan of the show had. But this time was different. She had the option to post. Actually... Post and comment on the pages. As tempting as that was, she decided it was best not to. What the hell would she say.

'Hi, I'm dreaming and you're fictional but I'm a BIG FAN, HI HI HI!'

Ummmm, noooo. Let's not.

Then, of course, there was John's blog. That came as the biggest shock to Scarlett. The date of the latest post... August 1st 2014. She checked her phone TWICE after that to see what the date was today.

August 12th. That was expected, yes. Yesterday was the 11th and so today was the 12th but... Oh, we seemed to have skipped a year?

This was making her head throb. It didn't make sense. But that just made it intriguing.

Online newspaper articles took up the rest of Scarlett's time.

CONSULTING DETECTIVE BACK FROM THE DEAD.

#SHERLOCKLIVES TOP TREND ON TWITTER.

GENIUS DETECTIVE SURVIVED THE FALL.

She spent absolutely ages trying to found out HOW he had survived but it appeared to be all very hush-hush. Well, if this was indeed a dream, she supposed that her subconscious was so clueless that it just did not mention a how anywhere.

Nor was there any mention at all about the actors in the show. No Cumberbatch or Freeman or Scott or... anyone. No Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. It was as if... well, it was as if she was actually IN the show itself. Yep. Definitely dreaming.

You're not supposed to be able to spot a dream whilst you are having it. It seems real, right? That's what Scarlett kept telling herself because this was all... So impossible. I mean, yes, she had imagined things like this before. Pictured meeting the man, attempting to play his violin and consequently being chucked out of the window. But this was very different. It felt vivid. She even pinched herself despite the cliche and it HURT.

[You cannot spot a dream whilst you are having it.]

That is why she eventually decided what she was going to do with her day. This was a dream and she was going to make the most of it.

Some sort of excuse was made about meeting some 'friend' in the city centre and going shopping was made to her mother and she was out of the house. Scarlett's mother was never one to refuse the suggestion of her daughter actually socialising rather than sitting in her room all day. Easy peasy.

The words that she had longed to say for a very long time now were on the tip of Scarlett's tongue as she slid into the cab.

"221B Baker Street, please."

. . .

OOOO. So, Scarlett is one of us. A simple fangirl who dares to dream. But is this actually a dream?

Remember to let me know whether or not to carry on in the reviews. You don't even have to say anything at all, just let me know if you want me to post the next chapter. Thanks so much for reading XD