Title: Of Consulting Detectives and Full Moons

Summary: John has been a werewolf for as long as he can remember; its his secret. However, things will soon change because: 1) his new flatmate is Sherlock Holmes, and 2) he is slowly falling in love with said flatmate, and his wolf isn't far behind.

Disclaimer: AU. All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are properties of their respective owners.

Archiving: Ask for permission.

AN: This will go episode by episode, but with major differences. Spoilers for all episodes. Also, I'm American, so if there is a word that is not right ( aka american soccer=football) please tell me. Oh! Title may change, don't know yet.

A Wolf's Heart

A Study in Pink, Part One

John Watson woke up with a snarl, and the sound of bones breaking and flesh tearing. It took him a couple minutes for him to talk down enough for him to realize he was no longer in Afghanistan and there was no reason to be in this form.

He let out a small whine before curling into a ball as much as he could, ignoring the throbbing pain in both his front and back leg; it would take a while for the energy he needed to change back.

"John? John Watson!"

John blinked into his normal senses and turned around. A large man, Stamford if he remembered correctly, slipped up to him.

"Stamford, Mike Stamford. We went at Bart's together."

So he had been correct. " Yes, hello."

"Yeah , I know, I got fat. I heard you were abroad somewhere getting shot at. What happened?"

John looked down at his leg then back up. " I got shot."

"Ah. Come on then, let me buy you some tea, unless your now into coffee?"

John laughed. "Oh god, no."

After getting their tea, Mike led him to a park bench, allowing John to sit down and rest his leg.

"So you're still at Bart's then?"

"Teaching now. Bright young things like we used to be...god I hate them." John couldn't help but laugh with him. "What about you? Just staying in town, getting yourself sorted?"

John scoffed. "Can't afford London on an army pension."

"Ah, but you couldn't bear to be anywhere else. That's not the John Watson I know."

"I'm not that John Watson." His hand was shaking, again. Damn it.

"Couldn't Harry help?"

John laughed this time. "Like that's going to happen."

"You could, I don't know, get a flat-share or something."

"Come on. Who'd want me for a flatmate?" Mike grinned. "What?"

"Well you're the second person to say that to be today?"

John looked at him. "Who was the first?"

Mike gave a wider grin. "Come on then."

The park was right near Bart's, so it was only a short walk to where Mike needed to go. He stopped in front of a lab door - which John's nose confirmed the chemicals - knocking before he stepped in.

The first thing he noticed was how different everything was, which he voiced aloud. The second thing he noticed was a tall, pale man leaning over a microscope. His first, fleeting, instinct cried 'vampire', but his nose faintly smelled two humans in the room - and the fact that vampires didn't exist.

"Mike, can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine."

Maybe he was a vampire. No human voice sounded like...that.

"And what's wrong with the land line?"

"I prefer to text."

Mike sighed. "Sorry, it's in my coat."

Without thinking, John reached into his pocket. "Uh, here. You can use mine."

The man looked at Mike for a fleeting second then back to him. "Oh, thank you."

Mike waited for the man to take the phone out of his hand before speaking up. "This is an old friend of mine, John Watson."

"Afghanistan or Iraq?"

Wha-"I'm sorry?"

"Which one was it: Afghanistan or Iraq?"

"Afghanistan. I'm sorry how did you-"

"Ah, Molly! Coffee. Thank you." The man interrupted, handing John his phone back before taking the cup the new woman had brought in. "What happened to the lipstick?"

"It wasn't working," the woman, Molly, answered.

"Really? I thought it was a big improvement; mouth's too small now. How to you feel about the violin?"

The question had to be directed to him. Molly had fled the room and Mike was just sitting there, grinning. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I play the violin when I'm thinking, and sometimes I don't talk for days on end. Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other."

What the hell? He looked at Mike. "You-You told him about me?"

Mike shook his head with a grin. "Not a word."

John frowned. "Then who said anything about potential flatmates?"

"I did. Told Mike this morning that I must be a difficult man to find a flatmate for," the man said as he began to put on his coat. "Now here he is, just after lunch, with an old friend clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan."

"How did you know about Afghanistan?"

The man ignored him. " I got my eye on a nice little place in central London. We will be able to afford it. We'll meet there tomorrow evening, seven o'clock. Sorry got to dash, I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary."

He blinked, quickly trying to process the sentences the man spoke. "Is that it?"

"Is that, what?"

"Well we just met and we're going to look at a flat?"

"Problem?"

"We don't know a thing about each other, I don't know where we are meeting, I don't even know your name."

The man looked him up and down before speaking. "I know your an army doctor, and you've been invalided home from Afghanistan. I know you've got a brother who's worried about you, but you wont go to him for help because you don't approve of him, possibly because he'a an alcoholic. More likely because he recently walked out on his wife. I know your therapist thinks your limp is psychosomatic, quite correctly I'm afraid. So much to be going off with, don't you think?" The man flashed a small smile, which John felt was fake, as he opened the door.

"The names Sherlock Holmes, and the address is two-two-one bee baker ." With a wink, he was gone.

John looked at Mike in disbelief. "Yup," Mike confirmed, "he's always like that."

What the hell.