"Sherlock Holmes!" Ruth exclaimed, "why of all people?"

"Look I thought you wanted to find out what happened to your brother," her boyfriend sighed raking his right hand through his tousled blond hair.

"Of course I do! But really Sherlock Holmes the biggest arsehole known to man, investigating my brothers death, could anything we worse."

"Yes much worse, Sherlock Holmes is the best detective in the world, you should be grateful that he decided to take this case on."

Ruth of course knew her boyfriend was right, but she had read all about Sherlock Holmes and had decided no matter how good he was, that she didn't like him one bit.

"Why can't that DI Lestrade, do it?" Ruth sighed.

"Because you know this case is so bloody weird," he sighed, "come on Ruth, don't be so stubborn!"

"I'm not stubborn!"

He laughed, because Ruth had a frown on her face and her arms folded firmly across her chest.

"Yeah keep telling yourself that sweetheart," he laughed going to put his arms around her, "we'll find out what happened to Jason, Sherlock Holmes will make sure he does."

OoooooOooo

Ruth snuggled into her long black scarf, as it swished around her ankles. She smiled at the feel of the wool on her legs, it reminded her so much of her Nan, and she could never let her scarf go. Ruth had been standing outside 221B Baker Street for about ten minutes now, but she still hadn't found the confidence to knock. Of course, the wonderful Sherlock Holmes couldn't be bothered to go to her place, so she would have to come here. Another thing that annoyed her about this famous brilliant detective.

Finally, she took a deep breath, told herself to stop being silly and knocked on 221B Baker Street. It took a while, but finally she heard noises and suddenly, it must have been John Watson, opened the door.

"Sherlock why can't you just open the bloody door your-," he froze as he saw Ruth and obviously looked taken aback by her, "when Sherlock said Ruth I was expecting middle aged, frumpish, cat lady."

Suddenly, Dr Watson realised what he just said and flushed bright red.

"I might be just in the body of a 28 year old, with the mind of a three year old," Ruth smiled and Dr Watson immediately felt at ease.

"Would you like to come in?" he managed to ask.

"Would be useful!"

She stepped inside the flat and instantly noticed it seemed very dark, but not in a creepy way, more of in a comfy way.

"He's upstairs," Dr Watson sighed leading her up the stairs, "please do ignore him if he starts saying random things about you. He hasn't had a cigarette in weeks."

"Then how come I can smell cigarette smoke," she laughed, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh god he's found them, I really need to find a better hiding place."

Ruth walked into the room, to see a man relaxed on a green sofa, cigarette smoke swirling around him, almost creating a dazzling mysterious image. His hair was extremely wavy and tousled, an extremely dark brown almost black. He had a pale gaunt face, with cheekbones that made him look even more ghostly. He wore a simple suit which outlined his skinny figure and he appeared tallish even sitting down.

So this was Sherlock Holmes.

OoooooOOoo

As Sherlock, let the amazing feeling pass through him, he heard footsteps, and got up from lying down, so he was slouching on his green sofa. He didn't even register John as he walked in, but this woman called Ruth he did register. She was not as he had expected her. She was tall, and had quite a nice figure, which surprised him, was the first thing he noticed. He turned his attention to her facial features. Wide brown eyes, cute nose (stop it he thought to himself), full lips (this is becoming absurd Sherlock), pale, high cheekbones. Her hair was wild and curly, jet black, pulled up into a loose ponytail.

"Long scarf, too long very knobbly not very well knitted obviously made by Nan, who is dead or else you wouldn't be wearing it," Sherlock said as they walked in, "engagement ring, obviously engaged."

Then he looked up at her and he was lost for words, there was nothing else about her he could find out. No clues. Dark circles obviously to do with her brothers death, but nothing else. God it frustrated him. He jumped up, stubbed out his cigarette in John's tea and ran up to her, studying her closely.

"Don't mind him," John sighed settling into his armchair, starting to open the paper, "he does this all the time."

"John what are you doing there?" Sherlock asked, twisting his head around, "we usually let our client sit there!"

"I'm waiting for you to work her out yet you haven't done it, have you got a cold?"

"Sherlock Holmes! Stopped by the common cold! John how could you even say that!"

John shook his head and watched at the corner of his eye as Sherlock studied Ruth. How can this be Sherlock thought how can I not work this simple girl out!

He growled and hit his head against the wall.

"Look whatever is wrong with you can we please discuss what we need to discuss I didn't come here for fun," Ruth sighed impatient.

How can this be me left clueless by a girl Sherlock thought!