I just watched the pilot episode for Sherlock and an idea popped into my head, hope you enjoy it.
"Tell me again, why this brat is in my flat." Sherlock ordered Mycroft, whilst glaring at the 'brat'.
"I already told you that he needs to be trained and that I can't think of any better person than you." Mycroft looked down at his brother. The 'brat' sighed.
"This 'brat' has a name too, you know. I would prefer that you used it."
"Tell me again, I forget." Sherlock continued to glare at him.
"Artemis." He said between clenched teeth. The effect was spoiled by him blowing his fringe out of his eyes.
"Why should I?" Sherlock turned towards his brother, ignoring Artemis. Artemis gazed at Sherlock, having to look up as he did so. An idea occurred to him and he walked over to the chess set scattered across the coffee table.
"In that case, how would you like a quick game of chess?" He pressed a finger gently on the king. Sherlock moved towards his chair, sitting down cautiously. Mycroft took out his phone and started a call. Sherlock set up the board, putting the whites on Artemis' side. Artemis sat down, putting his elbows on his knees, and resting his chin on his clenched hands. Sherlock mirrored him.
"Your move." He said smugly, certain in the fact that he was going to win. Artemis stayed silent, simply staring into Sherlock's eyes. At once Sherlock knew what was happening, and his confidence faded. Artemis and Sherlock stayed locked in this position for some minutes.
"Are you nearly done, I need to leave." Mycroft replaced the phone n his pocket, Sherlock raised a finger, shushing him. He kept it aloft until he placed it on top of the king, gently tipping it over. Artemis smiled.
"Very good. Where did you learn that?" He asked, already knowing the answer, but asking anyway.
"I learned the same way you did, apparently. Of course, I'm quite a bit younger." Artemis leaned back and took a deep breath.
"Five years is not 'quite a bit'." Sherlock glared at him.
"Hit a soft spot, did I?" Artemis smiled. Mycroft sighed.
"Are you two finished? Sherlock, will you train him?" Mycroft practically hissed. Sherlock slowly turned his head, pondering. Eventually, after Artemis stood up to leave, he gave his answer.
"Yes."
"Who are you?" John stood in the hallway, looking at Artemis sitting upside, down on the sofa. His long black hair almost touched the floor.
"I'm Artemis Landry." John blinked but didn't move.
"Wh-why are you in my flat?" Artemis pointed in the direction of the kitchen, shortly followed by Sherlock walking through with two mugs, passing one to Artemis.
"Mycroft wants him to observe me. Tell me, Artemis, what you see in John." Artemis managed to manoeuvre himself upright without spilling any of the tea, Sherlock stood in front of him. He looked at John whilst sipping his tea.
"You're an army doctor, been away, not long come back. Still going to a psychiatrist, although you're getting better. Obviously you live here. Not very well off, although your sibling offers you money. Did I miss anything?" Artemis turned towards Sherlock, John's mouth fell open.
"Yes." Artemis frowned.
"What did I miss?" Sherlock smiled and walked towards his own chair.
"I'm not going to tell you, figure it out yourself. That is what Mycroft sent you for, isn't it?" John started moving again.
"How-how did you do that?" He turned towards Sherlock. "It's like having another you, but miniature."
"I take offence to that. I neither look like Sherlock, or talk like Sherlock." Artemis glared at John.
"Are you kidding me? You look just like him." Sherlock's phone began to ring.
"Sherlock." He answered whilst John and Artemis continued their petty argument. He suddenly stood up, hanging up the phone, and walked towards the doorway.
"Come on you two, we have work to do." He ran down the stairs, leaving John and Artemis to follow.
"Who's the kid?" Lestrade asked Sherlock, indicating with his head. Artemis glared at him.
"I'm babysitting." Sherlock walked towards the crime scene.
"You brought the kid you're babysitting, to a crime scene?"
"I don't need a babysitter, thank you very much. I am old enough, and certainly capable enough to look after myself." Artemis strode past them. John sighed and carried on walking next to Sherlock.
"Lestrade, meet Artemis Landry. I guess you could say he is my apprentice."
"I'm only doing it because Mycroft is paying me, not because I want to be here!" Artemis shouted over his shoulder. He crouched down a couple of feet from the crime scene, rolled up his shirt sleeves and put his shoulder-length hair into a short pigtail. He then began surveying the scene. Sherlock stopped and watched him work.
"Hello, freak." Sergeant Donovan walked up to them. She frowned. "Who's the kid?"
"Again, I am not a kid!" Artemis growled.
"What do you see?" Sherlock asked, moving closer to the crime scene.
"Young man, early twenties. Overdose, no alcohol, no obvious drug usage. Recently lost a close family member, still grieving." Artemis moved across to the other side of the body. Sergeant Donovan frowned, seeing he similarities between Sherlock and Artemis. "Been out of the house for about four hours, lives nearby. Am I missing anything?" He looked up at Sherlock.
"No, explain to me how you came to these conclusions."
"His skin is cool, but he's not been dead long, plus the recent heat should keep him warm. There are small amounts of vomit present in his mouth. He doesn't smell of alcohol, nor is he carrying any. There are no marks around the arterial areas nor any residue around his nostril. The tissues are in his pocket; clearly he either has hay fever or has been crying a lot recently. He isn't carrying any antihistamines, either he took them earlier or he's not a sufferer. His black bags, not been sleeping recently. His unkempt appearance, he usually dresses well and uses product in his hair, not in today. His coat: its thick so he was cold, however he was carrying it, meaning he was too hot. At around 10am the temperature was around ten degrees, so was too cold. Now it is warmer, meaning he didn't need it any more He lives nearby: he was carrying his keys, but he has pockets, so he was readying them to unlock his front door."
"Oh dear lord, the freak is spawning." Sergeant Donovan practically groaned. Lestrade just stood there with his pen in his hand.
"Good. Now come on, were leaving." Sherlock moved away. Artemis sighed and pushed himself up.
"It really is like having a miniature version of you." Lestrade said, following Sherlock.
"I'm not miniature, I'm just small." Artemis complained. Lestrade looked at him.
"You're practically identical apart from your green eyes." Sherlock hailed a taxi.
"Well, we are vaguely related." He smiled before climbing into the back of the cab. John and Artemis followed closely behind.
