"Do I know you?" John asked, hesitantly.
The man who stood before him was tall and handsome, but not quite normal. His hair was metallic silver and his limbs moved in stiff, jerky motions.
"No," the man stated simply, in a deep, ringing voice, "I am called SH221Beta."
John was struck by how mechanic the man's voice sounded.
"Should I know what that means?" John questioned.
"No," the man, S.H. stated, "I am simply informing you."
"Well, I'm John Watson," John said in response, "What is it that you need?"
"A place to live," the man answered.
"Do you normally ask strangers if you can move in with them?" John questioned half in sarcasm.
"No," S H answered, "But you have shown bravery."
"What? When?" John asked, wildly trying to remember the last time he was brave.
"Yesterday evening," S H droned, "You saved a woman from getting mugged."
"Oh," John said, remembering the incident, "That's not bravery. Anyone would've done it."
"Indeed not, sir," S H insisted, "Two other men passed and made no move to help her."
"If you say so," John shrugged, "Why do you need a place to stay? What happened?"
"My creator sent me to live on my own," S H said in a clear, firm voice, "I have nowhere to go."
"I'm sorry, creator?" John questioned, "Do you mean your mum?"
"No," S.H. stated simply.
"Your dad, then?" John offered.
"No," was the blunt reply.
"I'm sorry, are you some sort of robot?" John said, half in sarcasm.
"Yes," S H whirled, "I am an artificial intelligence unit created after the image of someone deceased."
"Right," John stated, running a hand through his hair, "Come on then. Maybe you can help my friend. He needs someone smart to solve his cases for him."
"What is a friend?" S H inquired.
"A friend is someone you care about," John explained, trying not to think too much on it, "Someone who you do nice things for and help them when they're in trouble."
S H nodded as though he processed the information, but didn't really understand it. John shrugged and turned to start towards where Lestrade had directed him to a crime scene. His medical examiner was out of town and John was the only one available on such short notice. A couple blocks later, John stopped in front of the crime scene and searched out Lestrade. He spotted him and quickly strode over.
Lestrade looked up and a small smile started to form, but then he caught sight of S H he gasped, dropped what he was holding, sputtered and ran forward. He grabbed the sides of S H's face with his hands.
"You were dead! You are dead!" Lestrade shouted, "You can't be alive! Sherlock! What's happened to your hair? Why are you here? What… how did you die but not die? What is going on?"
"I am not Sherlock," S H whirled in his machine voice, "I am SH221Beta."
"What?" Lestrade said, blinking hard.
"I am SH221Beta," S H repeated, "I was created in the likeness of Sherlock Holmes, who is deceased."
Lestrade dropped his hands and squeezed them into fists at his side.
"Who made you?" he demanded.
"My creator is Mycroft Holmes," S H droned.
"Mycroft? Really? I wouldn't have guessed that," Lestrade said absently.
"Er. Who's Mycroft Holmes?" John questioned.
Lestrade whirled back around (apparently he forgot John was there).
"Sorry, John," Lestrade said in reply, "Mycroft Holmes holds a position in the government. His younger brother, Sherlock, used to help me on extremely difficult cases. He was a genius. Absolute genius. But also an idiot. Anyway, he, um, he died…Apparently, Mycroft made this in an effort to recreate his brother? I don't know. That doesn't sound very much like Mycroft to me. Of course, I only met him a few times, so I can hardly be a judge."
"Where can I find him?" John pressed.
"Er. I have his card still, I think," Lestrade said, reaching into his pocket.
He frowned and patted another pocket. His frown deepened.
"He does," S H's voice called.
John and Lestrade looked to the robot to see he had a wallet in one hand and was looking at a business card in the other. Lestrade belted out a laugh and snatched his wallet back.
"Cheeky bastard," Lestrade chuckled, "You're just like him."
S H ignored the comment and held the card out to John, who took it and read the address. He sighed and shoved it in his pocket, turning back to the crime scene. He'd have a few choice words (such as arsehole and cold-hearted bastard) with this Mycroft Holmes later.
"Her butcher," S. H's voice caused John to turn back around, "The knives will match I am sure."
Lestrade shook his head and called a police officer over. He quickly told him to find the woman's address book and locate the butcher. John stared at him in surprise.
"Just like that, you're going to believe him?" John asked.
"I've learned that with Sherlock, you just have to believe," Lestrade answered.
"I am not Sherlock," S H droned, "I am-,"
"Yeah, yeah," Lestrade interrupted him, "You're SH221Beta. Now get out of here."
John took that to mean him too and hurried to the main street. He quickly hailed a cab and instructed the cabbie to go to the address on the card. He sat back and watched as S H looked out the window. Now that there was a pause, John could finally grasp how ridiculous it all was. Here he was tracking down an artificial intelligence unit's creator for the sake of chewing him out. To think, this morning the thing foremost on his mind was whether he ought to take an umbrella with him to the crime scene in case it rained. And then this tin man just decided to barge into his life.
He had to chuckle at the absurdity of it all. He really shouldn't trust the robot, but something in the way he looked at John with harsh blue-green eyes made John believe him.
"I've learned that with Sherlock, you just have to believe."
John wondered just how much like this Sherlock Holmes, S H was. S H's curls bounced slightly as they came to a halt. John wondered what color Sherlock Holmes' hair was, since he most certainly couldn't be metallic silver. John began wondering a lot about this Sherlock Holmes character. Most of all he wondered why he cared so much.
Little note: Hi, my dearies. I wasn't sure I was going to start posting this one, honestly. I really like the idea but I wasn't sure how it was going to go across...I ran it by my brother and he seemed to like the plotline I gave him, so...here I am. I hope you like it! Love you all!