I do not own Sherlock. BBC owns it... duh
My name is John Watson, and this is the story of my best friend and flat mate, Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock and I met three years ago at Denmo's Coffee Shop. I was sitting at the corner of the shop drinking black coffee. My jacket was strung over the chair in front of me to block the way from other curious characters that like to chat. As a war veteran, I don't particularly enjoy chatting. I grabbed the newspaper that was resting on the table and started reading.
Suddenly a tall cloaked bloke burst into the shop. "Demno! Damn. Missed him!" His feminine voice rang throughout the shop as the noise stopped and teacups clattered. Wait, feminine?
The figure ran to the back of the shop, where I was sitting and sat down in the coat covered chair. "Now, think. Where could a 215 pound man have run off too?" The figure now was completely in my sights. This character with the feminine voice was indeed a woman. She was around 5'10 with shoulder length dark brown hair. Her blue eyes were nearly covered by her long side swept bangs. Her hands were pressed against both sides of her head in a painful manner. She reached out and grabbed my hands in excitement, "Oh! Of course! Why wouldn't a drug lord of his stature go to his superiors? This is great, this is great!" She grabbed the cup in front of me and took a drink, "Eh, I take two sugars." She got up to stand, showing off her long trench coat with the collar turned up and the blue scarf around her neck, despite the fact that it was a warm day.
I had to know the name of this peculiar woman. "Um. Excuse me, who are you?"
She looked at me and grinned, "Oh please. You know who I am."
I shook my head, "Nah, don't think so."
The woman's face turned to a frown and she sat back down. "What do you mean? Sherlock Holmes? The only consulting detective in the world?"
I laughed a bit at the frown she was making, "Never heard of you."
This is just a preview of the story. Please tell me what you think and I'll upload the second part soon :)