Elizabeth Goodwin placed her last box down in the dark shadowed flat, her new residence 221C Baker Street, for her this was a new start, away from her abusive relationship with her ex-boyfriend and selfless love from her parents.

She let out a sigh, the land lady Mrs Hudson seemed like a gentle, well-mannered lady who was loyal and friendly to her tenants and certainly up for afternoon tea and a chat.

Elizabeth screamed at the sound of gunshot, supposedly coming from upstairs, should she call the police, no, she should investigate, confront the wild neighbour, make sure he hasn't killed someone, and make sure he hasn't killed himself.

Slowly opening the front door, she crept out closing quietly behind her and tiptoeing up the peeled and faded staircase, she could then hear a voice of a man shouting at supposedly another man. She slowly knocked on the door and watched two pair of eyes focus on her.

One man, tall, who had the gun in his hand, he had black curly hair and a very evil expression however Elizabeth had just seen the most beautiful man she had ever come across, the other, shorter than his friend, before she had time to really observe, he had come over.

"You must be our new neighbour, sorry about Sherlock over there, gets bored quite easily."

"Sherlock?" Elizabeth smirked "What kind of name is that?"

Sherlock stared at her without blinking, his eyebrows slightly lowered, appalled by her comment.

"Haven't you ever heard of him, Sherlock Holmes, detective…"

"I'm not from London, I'm from rural Norfolk." Elizabeth smiled biting her lip.

"Aah, I'm John Watson" John held out his hand.

"Elizabeth Goodwin" she shook his hand firmly.

Sherlock hadn't altered his gaze from two minutes ago, he was still staring at her.

"So Elizabeth, what brings you to London?" John asked before being interrupted by Sherlock who stepped forward.

"Escapism, from a partner, abusive, more physical then verbal, evident scars on neck, burns from hot water, supposedly a kettle, three months ago. You came to London because your parent, very likely your mother originated from here, eastern London, there are traces in your accent, what is very mixed, you yod drop, miss out letters from words when you pronounce them, very common for Norfolk blood."

Elizabeth just stared at him, lost for words "How did you…what?"

"He's bloody amazing" John ushered.

"It's common sense John, your boring old minds miss those small obvious details, god I'd need to smoke for China if I had your mind, or anyone else's on Baker Street."

"Okay then" Elizabeth folded her arms "What do I do?"

Sherlock looked at her for a couple of seconds "Secretary"

"Very good, where do I do my secretarial duties?"

"Nowhere, you're currently unemployed, seeking for a job, preferably in this area, anywhere further than a 10 miles radius is a straight no, you hate travelling, I saw the taxi pull up, you were shaking, lost for words, dropping your baggage easily, stress from an event that made you lose a loved one."

"I…"

"A brother, you have the name James tattooed on your neck, has to be your brother because his DOB is supposedly around I say two years before yours."

"How do you know how old I…?"

"28, he was 30, possibly celebrating after the birth of his child, you have a picture in your purse which is sticking out of your pocket, supposedly only minutes old, a girl judging by the pink balloon in the background of the picture."

"Bloody hell, what's her name?"

"You tell me, names are a little harder, I'd get it eventually but my mind is being deflated by John's non rhythmic breathing pattern."

"Her name is Cindy, she's one soon."

Sherlock sat down and totally ignored what she had said; Mrs Hudson came in "Oh so you have met Elizabeth?"

John smiled "Yes, lovely woman."

"Well as long as she doesn't start investigating your flat boys, I think she'll love it here."

"Why what's in this flat? I mean a gun is understandable, I guess." Elizabeth asked a little intrigued however worried.

"Experiments" Sherlock said.

"What sort of experiments?"

"Ones your tiny boring brain wouldn't be able to understand or handle."

"I got A* in all my science subjects."

"Only just" Sherlock observed "No you need extra tutoring or at least a higher IQ to understand these ones. Even John scratches his head when he finds jars of saliva hidden in the oven."

"It's just weird Sherlock, saliva, just curious where you got it from." John explained.

"Well I better go downstairs, finish off my unpacking, nice to meet you all."

Mrs Hudson and John smiled whereas Sherlock was staring at the floor taking no notice of Elizabeth's departure.