Sherlock cupped his mug of tea between his hands, glad for the warmth. The detective had ducked inside a little cafe, after the ship had docked and Lestrade was satisfied with his account of what had occurred with the pirates.

It was a gloomy day. Large grey clouds on the horizon with a dark sky to match. It would make the trip back to London more frustrating if it rained. It was almost impossible to drive his Benz through the mud. It got stuck fairly easily, and by himself it would be difficult to pull out. Perhaps he would rent a room for a night or two to be safe.

The little girl who had memorized his order was making her way to his table. She was young, probably around thirteen. Dark brown hair that was well cared for. Her long locks were probably the only thing she cared about because things like her dress and her shoes were in tatters. It puzzled Sherlock.

He inhaled some of his tobacco (his own creation after years of studying and experiments). Once he blew a few smoke rings, it clicked. A witness to case of an elderly woman had left her fortune to one of the foundling homes in London, but her nephew tricked her into signing away all of her money to him instead. The young child, she was about six or so and her name was Ruth. She had sold a box of matches to the nephew and his wife when he was talking about what he had done out in the open. Her hair was shiny with no tangles. Sherlock asked why her hair was possibly the cleanest part on her. Ruth rather proudly responded that Miss Ellen, her guardian, was going to cut off her hair for the wigmakers, and that way they'd get a lot of money for clothes and food.

He felt a little embarrassed that it took him that long to remember.

The girl carefully placed the mince pie down in front of Sherlock. She gave him a forced smile. "Will that be all, sir?"

"I think that will be all, thank you."

She made a little curtsy and hurried back to the front of the shop. The bell above the door had rung, indicating that there was another customer to attend to.

Sherlock was about to take the first bite of his pie when he heard a familiar voice. His ears perked up as his eyes drifted to the new customer.

Scottish Terrier.

Blue suit.

Carrying a medical bag.

It was definitely him.

"My dear Watson!" Sherlock cried out, interrupting the young girl who was trying to seat the doctor. "Would you like to join me for tea?" He felt like his heart stopped as he waited for an answer.

Watson, stared at him for a long moment; eyes wide and mouth hanging open. The doctor broke out into a smile. "Mr. Hound! Imagine see you here of all places! Yes, yes of course I'll join you."

The girl lead Watson over to his table. She took his order as he was sitting down and getting situated. Sherlock returned Watson's infectious smile. He folded his arms on the table and leaned over his mince pie. "You're not following me, are you?"

Watson spluttered, "N- no! I suppose you would know if I was since you are a private detective and all."

Sherlock nodded, "True."

A comfortable silence fell over them. Sherlock sipped his tea and nibbled on his food. Watson took out a newspaper and opened it up in the middle. Sherlock observed his new friend. Smartly dressed, vast knowledge of the medical field, much empathy for others. The doctor intrigued him. Not many people saw him and smiled like that. Not even Mrs. Hudson offered him a genuine grin after all these years. His housekeeper was a bit reserved, however.

Sherlock spoke to break the ice, "Thank you again for assisting me with the case."

Watson looked up from his paper. "Case? You mean that adventure with the pirates?"

Sherlock nodded. "Well, yes of course. It was a mystery, Scotland Yard was involved, and we solved it together. I'd call that a case."

Watson blushed a little. "I wasn't that helpful to you."

"Oh, but you were." Sherlock took another long puff of his pipe before setting it aside on his left. "You were able to gather all of the children on board and collect shiny objects to fool the Bengal pirates. You helped by time while the ship was being repaired. It was you who aided me in handing over the fake jewels over."

The Scottish Terrier folded over and set aside his paper. "Is that so? I'm glad that you see it that way. It was quite an honor to be of service of a private detective."

Sherlock hummed before taking another sip of his tea, emptying the cup. "Where are you off to, Doctor Watson? If you don't mind me asking."

Watson muttered a few 'ahs' and 'ums' before he properly answered. He scratched the back of his neck as he replied, "I don't rightly know. I plan to see my brother for at least a week. He lives outside of London. After that?" he shrugged. "I have no idea."

"Would you like to come live with me?"

Once again, the doctor was taken aback by his words. It was quite interesting to watch Watson's face go from shock to confusion, to hopeful, and back to confusion. It seemed as though Doctor Watson wore his heart on his sleeve.

A dangerous thing indeed.

Watson had opened his mouth to reply just as the girl came around with his tea and biscuits. The doctor told the girl that he didn't need anything else from her. But Sherlock grabbed her attention just in time.

"Tell me, that's your name?"

The girl shuffled from foot to foot, avoiding his gaze. "Helen," she mumbled.

He beamed at her. "Helen," he repeated. "That's a lovely name. Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

Helen nodded. "I have a little sister. Sarah Anne."

"That's nice. How old is Sarah Anne?"

"She's- she's four."

"Ah, quite an age gap then. Does your sister follow you around like a young duckling?"

Helen's head shot up, her eyes full of excitement. "Yes! She does! It's so annoying. She's always getting in the way! She follows me around when I work and makes me spill tea, and mother gets angry. The only reason she isn't' here now is because mother was fed up with all the tea that was being wasted because of her."

Sherlock leaned forward to the girl, like he was telling her a secret. "I was once your sister's age," he whispered. "And I had an older brother about your age. I admired him so much that I followed him about like a duckling as well."

"What happened then?" Helen asked eagerly.

"I grew up. As did he. We went our separate ways and I barely see him anymore." Sherlock didn't mean for his voice to sound sad, but it came out that way. "Sometimes I wish that we had been closer. Remember that, will you?"

Helen shook her head yes, but it was clear that she didn't understand it at all. She did a curtsy, and rushed back to the kitchens.

"You get along well with children."

He turned his gaze back to the man sitting across from him. The doctor was surprised.

Sherlock waved it off. "Children have imaginative minds and think nothing is impossible. We're a like that way."

Watson chewed that over, before speaking again. "You have a brother as well?"

"Yes, but as I said, we hardly see each other anymore. He works for the government, you see. I suppose it's an awfully busy job." Sherlock had no idea why he had willingly let that bit of personal information out in front of Watson. That was something he never told anyone.

"Is he a red fox as well?"

Sherlock raised his eyebrows. "But of course."

"Don't see many foxes around these days."

"No," Sherlock sighed. "No, there's not."

"You said... You asked if I wanted to board with you. Why?"

Sherlock tried to bite back a laugh. "We get along quite well. You didn't seemed at all bothered that I play the violin or that my profession is rather dangerous. In fact, you seemed to thrive in it. Doctor, you were quite clear that you miss the action you experienced back in Afghanistan. Besides, you said my motorcar was a work of art. I won't forget that, my dear boy."

Watson appeared to be appraising him, trying to think what the was best way to say what he wanted to say. "Anything else I should know?"

"I conduct experiments, some of which are not successful. I am rather horrible at cleaning up after myself, but I have a housekeeper. She's a charming woman. Mrs. Hudson makes the best tea that I have ever tasted."

"And I'd..." Watson fiddled with yellow bowtie. "I'd live with you?"

"Mrs. Hudson has several rooms at the house. We don't have to share one room... Unless you would prefer it?"

Sherlock decided that he loved to see a blush cross the doctor's face. It was quite adorable.

"I think it would be best if we keep separate rooms. At least for the meantime, Hound."

Sherlock would be lying to himself if the doctor's decision wasn't a tad disappointing. He understood Watson's reservations on the matter. Perhaps-

His mind went over Doctor Watson's words again. I think it would be best if we keep separate rooms. At least for the meantime, Hound.

"Does that mean you'll take me up on my offer?" Sherlock wanted to kick himself being so vulnerable as he asked.

"I did tell you I was looking forward to future sports, didn't I?"

The red fox' felt happiness bubbled up from his chest. "You did, Watson." He stuck out his hand over the table for the other man to shake. "Then it is agreed?"

Without any hesitation, Doctor Watson took his hand with a firm grip. "Agreed."