After checking no-one was in the corridor, I adjusted the elasticated fabric flattening my breasts, before knocking on the oak door in front of me in case anyone was inside. I turned the rusty key in the lock. When I went in, the room was filled with smoke that maneuvered its way out into the corridor. I looked around as best I could with fogged up glasses.

"Do you smoke like this often?" I asked in the general direction of a shadowed figure.

The figure stood from his seat.

"Yes," he said, a calm, unerring tone to his voice. "Is it a problem?"

"I admit I am not fond of clandinsky ashes," I told him. "But your habit should not be a problem."

I felt his eyes on me.

"How did you recognise what I was smoking?" he asked, genuine curiosity in his voice. "It is a rare ash."

I smiled to myself.

"I know a great deal of things, Mr Holmes," I said vaguely, whilst absently brushing the surface of his desk with my fingers. "For example, I know that you have been a chemistry student at this university for three months," I scanned the room. "And that you are a light sleeper, and a relative of the French artist Vernet, possibly a grandson. Perhaps I won't mention anything else."

I faced my room-mate. He could have almost been a black hawk, with his thin, wiry, black hair, sharp hawk-like features and hooked nose. He was staring, dumbfounded, at me.

"From your reaction, I gather that my analysis is correct." I commented.

"My apologies," Sherlock Holmes replied. "And, yes, you are correct. Vernet was my grandmother's brother. Pray tell, what is your name?"

For a long while, I looked at him.

"Jenkins. Edmund Jenkins."

Two months passed. Holmes became a very good friend, but he had not yet shown the full extent of his powers. If I remember correctly, the manuscript was reported missing on a Wednesday, so George Windsyne must have been in our rooms on the Friday. The manuscript was the last scene of Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. I had mentioned it to Holmes, as literature was one of my studies. He had, surprisingly taken quite an interest in the matter. I came back late in the afternoon from a lecture on that particular Friday, and found my self in the company of two men instead of one.

"Jen, I'm glad you could make it," Holmes said. "This is one of our neighbours, George Windsyne."

"A pleasure, I'm sure." I said, sitting down.

Windsyne was a very suspicious person, and I knew that Holmes wasn't being neighbourly in inviting him to our rooms.

"I connected him with that Shakespeare manuscript you were so kind to bring my attention to." Holmes explained.

"Oh really?" I asked.

"Yes, he locked himself in his rooms on the day the manuscript went missing; it was a miracle that I managed to get him down here," Holmes told me, not taking his eyes off of our guest. "He has frequently been using age worn paper and ink, as I am certain you have picked up," He looked at me with a smile. "Shall we test my theory?"

"Whyever not?" I asked, returning my friend's smile.

We made our way to Windsyne's rooms, the man in question following, calling out his protests. Holmes and I ignored him, and Holmes opened the unlocked door and took hold of Windsyne's arm. Immediately, I went over to the bookshelf and reached behind it. I felt several sheets of paper, bound together, and pulled them out. Holmes and I turned to our companion.

"How do you explain this?" Holmes asked, still gripping Windsyne's upper arm.

Windsyne hung his head in defeat.

After handing Windsyne and the manuscript over, Holmes and I strolled across the university grounds.

"Holmes, you did well." I told him.

"You would have gotten it sooner or later." Holmes said.

I shrugged good-naturedly.

"So you really are a master of deductions." I said.

"Yes, did you think I was lying?" Holmes asked.

"No, not at all!" I exclaimed. "I merely had my doubts, having not seen your prowess in action; that is all."

Holmes laughed jovially.

A/N:

I usually write for the modern BBC adaption, Sherlock, but the books were my first true love!

Also, Jen has to pretend to be a man to fit in and achieve what she wants. Just in case you were confused. Oh, and she's gotten quite good at it over the years! :)

~Ellis~