You step out of the black cabby with your heavy luggage in hand.
"Apparently those detective bloggers live in that building. Bunch of nonsense if you ask me." A husky voice spoke.
You turned to face the overweight cabby driver who had not yet left. Your long auburn hair flickered around in the gusty wind.
"I'm sorry?" you ask.
"Im just saying that be careful of dem crazy folk. A pretty thing like you shouldn't be messing with people like them."
The sleazy driver glanced up and down your figure with a look of desire present in his eyes causing you tried to hide the look of disgust that seemed to be creeping onto your face. Couldn't you have a normal guy hit on you for one?
Ignoring the drivers rudeness you pick up your black suitcase and start to walk towards the big brass with the address of 221B. Before you knock you turn your head back towards the driver and yell out.
"I think I'm safe… I mean after all getting into danger runs in the family."
You flash a seductive smile and turn back to the door hearing the car drive off into the crowd.
Returning your attention to the flat you knock three times hearing a pair of hurried footsteps approach the door.
After a moment of key rattling the door is opened by a frail woman who looked to be in her fifties or sixties. She took a moment to look up and down you before exclaiming
"Hello you must be (Name)!"
You nod your head flicking your fringe out of your face showing your ice blue eyes.
"Yes that's me, you must be Mrs Hutson. John has told me many good things about you."
Mrs Hutson waved her hand in dismissal with a big smile upon her face and hustled you inside leaving you standing at the bottom of the stairs while she disappeared around the corner calling out for John.
While waiting you pull off your short black coat and hang it on the rack just inside the doorway letting your long curly hair fall to sit comfortably on your back. You are wearing a long sleeved white blouse with slick black business pants that cover your small heeled shoes. It was all part of the disguise of course.
As you patiently wait for Mrs Hutson you become aware of the muffled voices from the upstairs room. One seemed to be deep and straight to the point while the other sounded annoying and drooled on. You creep closer to the stairs to try and hear the conversation but you are only able to pick up snippets of words, hardly making sense at all. Something along the lines of the British government...
Suddenly without any warning loud screech's came from the room. You clamp your hands over your head to block out the noise and you realize that it is the sound of a violin.
The door at the top of the stairs slammed open and you watched as a rather plump man thundered down the stairs.
"I will hope that the next time I come around John will have talked some sense into you!" He yelled.
He turned his glance back to look where he was going when he nearly stumbled into you.
"My apologies miss. I am terribly sorry if you overheard that pointless argument."
From close up you could see his receding hairline and the glint of light reflecting off his golden pocket watch. From the looks of his smart suit he probably had a position in the government or perhaps a lawyer? He gave you a brief smile and reached behind you for the umbrella leaning against the door. His ID from inside his suit pocket caught your eyes for a brief moment and you remembered the familiar face. Mycroft Holmes.
"Good day." he said as he made his exit through the door.
You stood there looking confused until the sound of Mrs Hutson brought you back to reality. You had to tendency to drift off into a daydream in the most inconvenient moments.
"Deary you can head on up now. I just wanted to clean this awful mess."
You did as she instructed and headed up the wooden stairs till you reached the upstairs room. It truly was a mess. Papers and folders were scattered all over the floor and were sometimes arranged into stacks of pyramids. Also why was the Cludeo board stabbed to the wall?
"(Name!)"
"Uncle John?"
You walked over to where he was standing and he pulled you in for a quick hug.
You hadn't seen John since he left for the war but he hadn't changed at all. When you were younger and he still lived in the area he would take you to the movies when Harry (Harriet) was still hung-over or stumped with work. You had always been fascinated with the weapons that John would use for war so in secret he would show you a handgun (Of course it would be filled with blanks) and by the end of the day you would have memorized all the components that it was made of and how to use it. By only 15 years old you had the knowledge that most soldiers would have of weaponry. This was a pretty big advantage for the field of work you had entered into.
The only thing that was different about John was the fact he was smiling? Back at home John never looked this happy. He was just always filled with stress and worry. Now he looked like he was having the time of his life. He even wore the same old...Urgh
"Uncle I thought you had thrown out all those knitted sweaters."
He gave a genuine smile looked down at his brown and white outfit.
"You too? Even Sherlock says he hates them. Maybe I really should…."
You stopped paying attention to John when you heard the name "Sherlock". It was only at that moment that you noticed the presence of the third person in the room. You turned your head to see a dark curly-haired man sitting with his feet crossed in the armchair. A black coat that looked similar to yours was lying across the armrest.
"John stop your babbling it's obvious that your niece has stopped listening."
You watched as your uncle glared at Sherlock before sitting back down in a wooden chair. Sherlock on the other hand stood up and paced around you looking up and down your figure. For some reason you knew that he didn't have the same intentions as that slez-ball cabby, that did the same thing outside.
"What are y.."
"It's been days since we've had a customer, always up for a challenge" He said completely ignoring you.
"Sherlock she just got here! Cant this wait?"
John had no better luck at shutting up Sherlock than you did. He waved him off with his hand and continued to circle around you, his eyes darting from side to side.
"Judging from your outfit you work in an office area. Indoors of course. Most likely an accountant but that's not your taste isn't it. No you would be a writer, more specifically a newspaper journalist. You and John have no similar features at all in terms of apperance. Also taking in the fact that your mother/father is John's sister, there is only a few possible ways for her to conceive you. I know first-hand that John does not come from a wealthy family so the most probable answer is that you are adopted. The way that your hair is styled says that you're single but not ready for a relationship. Most likely you just went through a breakup but you did the dumping not him. The shade of the lipstick you're wearing is new, meaning you're ready for change of pace. Either that or you clearly don't care about what you're slapping on your face."
"SHERLOCK! That's my niece don't show off."
"Don't worry its ok John." You said "He's right. Just like the papers say, pretty impressive." You say trying to keep the grin from spreading on your face. The disguise worked.
"Oh no I'm not done." He smiled with pure joy in his eyes "That's just what you want everyone to think. Ahh you're tricky, nearly had me fooled. There is no way that you could be a writer. Your fingernails are jaggered and have scratches through them. No writer would ever let their hands get into such a state. From constant typing on a keyboard the edges of the nails become smooth and polished. You work with equipment and more specifically high advanced weaponry. How did I guess that? Don't bother let me tell you. When you went to hug John I noticed that you lent your body weight to the right side of his body, avoiding the gun that is hidden in his left side. This could be a coincidence but if you look again at your outfit you have dressed yourself so that if need be you can hide weapons on you that is invisible to the human eye. More so the tan line just above your collar says that you spend a lot of time outside. Also the final thing that gave you away was how you addressed Mycroft."
"Who?" You pretended to ask trying not to give away to shock in your voice.
"Oh don't pretend you don't know who I'm talking about. You work for the secret service in the British government. How else can you explain the way that you stepped yourself back and avoided most forms of communication with him? This is not fear; you didn't want him to recognize you. Finally the fact that you dressed this way says that you don't want John to pick up on your line of work. You think he will not approve and think of it as dangerous. He's right though. Working in the secret service to develop nuclear weapons is very dangerous for a little girl."
He stepped back and sat down while you just stared at him with your mouth wide open in shock
"How the hell did you do that?"
"I simply observed." He responded not taking his eyes away from yours. "Childs play."
"(Name) you have a ton of explaining to do."
So I hope you guys liked that chapter and I hope that I have kept Sherlock and John in character enough. Doing the deduction part was so difficult and I hope that it made some kind of sense. Please let me know what you think and if I should write another chapter :D
Thankyouss :D