John Watson walked through the halls of St Barts; he hadn't been there since he had left to Afghanistan. Mike Stamford walked behind him, taking and John on autopilot made noises of agreement. He was here to come and talk to a man that Mike knew about sharing a flat, Mike had warned him that he was strange but that didn't bother him he had dealt with worse than a weird and come out the other side. Unscathed but alive, and that was most important.
They approached the entrance to a lab, outside a girl was sitting on a table softly singing to herself while she plaited a piece of string. "At the sick bed of Cuchulainn we'll kneel and say a prayer, and the ghosts are rattling at the door and the devils in the chair." She had a nice voice he thought, not too sweet but haunting. He recognised the tune from a concert he had attended while in Uni, 'The sick bed of Cuchulainn' by the Pogues. The girl looked up as she heard their footsteps and smiled. "Hi Mike" she said, "Who's this?" Mike introduced them "Is he asking about the flat?" John looked at Mike annoyed, "I thought you said you hadn't mentioned about the flat?" The girl stood up and opened the door to the lab "Oh he didn't say anything, please don't be annoyed. It's just a thing, I'm sorry, I've been very rude. Allow me to introduce myself, I'm Squish O'Connor. And it's my guardian you've come to see."
John walked in to the lab leaning heavily on his stick. A tall man was looking into a microscope, Mike cleared his throat noisily, and nervously John noticed. When the man still didn't register any reaction, the girl walked up to him and poked him in the ribs. "Yes" he said irritably "I can see there here, but it so obvious why, I don't see why I have to bother to ask!" The girl stood equally tall and said, "Because social etiquette says to and I say too and also I like this one, so grow up!"
This one, John thought what happened to the others? He roused himself from his inner monologue as he could feel the full force of the man's attention on him. He cocked his head to onside, "Afghanistan or Iraq?" "What?" said John bewildered. Turning to Mike "You told him?" he asked. "Not a word" said Mike enjoying the moment, "I told you". Turning back to the man John said puzzled, "How did you know then", not demanding or angry, just curious. "Come now it's perfectly obvious so shall we get to the real reason you're here?" "Sherlock" Squish said with a warning tone her voice, "be nice" "I AM!" He said. "No you're showing off and if you don't stop I'm hiding your violin" They stood staring at each other for several minutes. Finally Sherlock said "Oven" Saoirse smiled and said "No, but good try, obviously the bread bin." Sherlock smacked himself in the forehead "Obvious, stupid." He said, "Now", turning back to John, "How do you feel about the violin?" John looked bewildered "What?" Sherlock sighed "The violin how do you feel about it. I play when I'm thinking, sometimes I don't speak for days" Squish looked up from the microscope which she had wandered over too and was now peering intently, "I can confirm that" she called "or feed his only child. Sherlock, green ladder? "Um what?" John said again, "Yes I'm thinking the brother. Well potential flatmates need to know the worst about each other" he said, with a horrible grimace on his face. "Then why haven't you told him about the eyeballs in the fridge?" Squish said, as she passed him a scarf that was lying on a bench. "Thought you told me to be nice?" She just stuck her tongue out. "Um sorry" said John "who said anything about flatmates?" "Oh you did" said Saoirse now zipping up a jumper. "And sorry it's been so brief, but we have a client that needs some urgent attention, so why don't you come to look at the flat tomorrow, around 7?" John just stood there looking bewildered, "I know nothing about you and now you want to be flatmates? I don't even know your name!" Sherlock looked around "Squish where's my riding crop?" "Mortuary" she said. "Of course" Sherlock said "I know that you are an Army doctor who had been invalided home. I know you have a brother who's worried about you but who you won't go to for help because you don't approve of him- possibly because he is an alcoholic more likely because he has recently walked out on his wife. And I know that your therapist thinks your limp is psychosomatic quite correctly" He smiled like a child who had perfected a magic trick.
"And I think that that is enough to be going on with" said Squish, pushing him out the door, "go and fetch your riding crop" She waited until he had gone, "Please come tomorrow Dr Watson, you've taken this remarkably well and I realise we aren't ideal but we really do need a flatmate" She turned and at the door turned and smiled "Thanks for not telling him it's a sister, his name is Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221b Baker Street" and with that she had gone. John completely bewildered turned to Mike and he said "Yeah their always like that"
