Chapter 1

Sherlock paused, poised with one hand extended, ready to throw the dart. He threw beautifully and smiled briefly as he examined the now completed "SH" on the wall.

"Sherlock?" John Watson, his recently married best friend, poke his head into the room. "I think we have a customer. She's lingering outside."

Rolling his eyes, Sherlock pushed himself out of his chair, giving one last look to his dart masterpiece. "I do hope it's not one of those horrid affairs again." John shook his head.

"She's not pacing. She's...standing." Sherlock quirked an eyebrow, before going over to the window himself. There was a blond woman standing outside the door, who suddenly looked up. Sherlock jumped back, cursing himself for making eye contact.

"She wasn't lingering," he said grimly, "She was checking to see if we were interested."

The doorbell rang a second later. Sherlock flicked his collar up definatly as John ushered the woman in. She wore a trench coat of her own, although her's was stylishly belted, and for a moment, Sherlock was rather disgruntled that he was no longer the only trench coat in the room.

She met Sherlock's stare with a deep blue gaze, obviously from behind soft contacts. His mind raced, observing. It had been ages since there had been a new person to deduct around.

John rubbed his hands together. "Brrr! It's cold out there!" She nodded demurely, flipping her bangs out of her eye. She sat down in the guest chair, in between John's chair and Sherlock's.

"Ah. So you've heard of us." Sherlock folded his hand under his deliciously chiseled chin, eager to see her reaction to his brilliance.

"Yes," she said, in a light, musical voice. Sherlock felt slightly disappointed. Was that all?

"I presume you already know why I'm here?"

Well, obviously. "There's three possibilities at the moment. Elaborate."

She raised an eyebrow, posing a request. Sherlock huffed in annoyance. "Oh, honestly. Elaborate, 'please'."

She smiled. "I would like your assistance in…" cutting herself off, she giggled, then regained her composure.

"I need you to make a man fall in love with me."

"Sorry, what?" John had never heard that one before.

"I need Sherlock Holmes to help me make a man fall in love with me," she repeated, as if it was a completely normal thing to say. To be frank, John thought, the more common thing to say would be, 'Make Sherlock Holmes fall in love with me', not a person asking for love advice from him. He'd never even take the case. It wasn't even a case!

"Of all the people, why bother asking the detective 'without emotions', as most say?" a playful smile danced on Sherlock's full lips.

"You already know, why bother asking?"

He smirked. "My intellectual prowess, obviously. Who else is there to ask? Who else knows the answer to every question?"

She didn't acknowledge his boasting. "Will you take the case?"

"Will you take the case?"

Not a case, John privately thought.

"Do you trust me to? Most people wouldn't?"

Ok, so he's agreeing that it's a case.

"I'm not most people."

That's for damn sure. John whipped his head right a left, like it was a tennis match, only instead of a small, neon yellow ball, it was witty retorts being tossed back and force, hit ferociously.

"Oh really? Why aren't you?"

"Why do you insist on asking question that you answer yourself? You are avoiding the question."

Sherlock leaned back. "Yes. Six?"

"Five." She stood up and shook his hand, and John's. "Goodbye." She left as she came, and the hurricane of her presence was only unfelt by Sherlock. John turned to his best friend, bewildered.

"What the bloody hell just happened?" Sherlock ventured into another room and began sifting through dusty boxes.

"Did you mean 'Yes, I'll take the case' or 'Yes, I'm avoiding the question'? Is she coming? At five? At six? What day?" John ducked, narrowly missing being conked on the head by a book, haphazardly tossed out of the way.

"Both." Sherlock called vaguely, emerging from the newly made clutter to produce a pair of earbuds and a headset with a microphone.

"What is that? Why did you even take the case? We didn't even ask her name!"

"Sound equipment. And I didn't need to asker her name. She'll tell me tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? When, tomorrow?" This was beginning to be frustrating for John.

"Five. Weren't you listening?" Sherlock sighed. John was just finally starting to understand things too. Back to the drawing board for human intelligence.

"But- Well-" John spluttered, "You still haven't said why you took the case. It's not something you usually do."

Sherlock grinned. "Exactly."

"Why isn't she here? It's 5:15!" Sherlock paced wildly, stalking across the floor like a cloud of buzzing ions.

"Sherlock, calm down. It's not as if it's a date." John looked over bemusedly at his frantic friend. The bell rang and Sherlock sprang for the door. "Ah-ha!"

There she stood, in a purple sweater, her hair swept back. She sat down again, eyes wide and bright. She giggled softly to herself, making Sherlock wonder what the joke was.

"Alright," John said, "Before you and Sherlock go all tennis-y again-"

"Tennis-y? Whatever do you mean, Mr. Watson?"

He flushed pink. "Er, nevermind. And John is fine, thanks. More importantly, what is your name?"

"Oh." She paused. "Arcania...Trefe."

John scribbled in the notebook.

"I do apologize if I'm interrupting any murders, Mr. Holmes." She dipped her head.

He waved his hand in the air. "Murders are common. This, although emotional and trivial, is new. Give me information."

Sherlock listened attentively as she scrolled off information about the man Sherlock was to make fall in love with her.

John was distinctly stunned about the fact that Sherlock would take the case-that-was-not-technically-a-case, especially one so "Trivial" and "Emotional".

"I've known him since we were two. Our parents are friends, although none of them, including us, have spoken in two years."

John looked incredulously as the detective, who actually seemed to be...engrossed in the conversation. How strange!

"Has the tendency to use 'haha' too much while talking via social media or texting-"

John knew that look. He was putting information in his mind palace. Why in the world would he waste mind palace space for information about a schoolgirl crush? He didn't even bother to remember that the Earth went round the sun! He realized in a second.

Sherlock liked this woman. He watched, curiosity sparked anew.

"Has perfected the use of a sarcastic grin-"

Sherlock nodded, waving his hand for her to continue.

Oh, maybe, not yet, John thought, but mark my words, he will.