Miami, Florida. June 2008.
Sherlock Holmes had needed to get away from it all. Away, mainly from his brother's insistence that he get help for his drug habit.
Mycroft saw it differently. He called it a 'problem' and an 'addiction'.
How wrong he was. The only problem was Mycroft's determination to take away the only thing that made him feel human. Sure, he enjoyed his chemistry experiments, and solving an occasional crime, but they were only substitutes. They were nowhere near as good as the real thing.
That was why Sherlock had left London. He had needed to get away from the watchful eye of his brother, practically the British Government, who could monitor almost his every move on the CCTV cameras he was in control of all around the city.
A month ago, Sherlock had enough. He packed his things, took a cab to the airport and bought a ticket for the next flight, which happened to be headed through Miami, Florida. Sherlock didn't care about the location. He just wanted to leave.
No doubt Mycroft knew where he was. His brother had access to the passport records, of course, so it wasn't particularly difficult to find his location.
But Mycroft wouldn't come. His job was too important to leave the United Kingdom for any long stretch of time for reasons that didn't relate to his career.
Sherlock had settled in Miami. He found a nice hotel to stay in, the Hyatt, a cocaine dealer, and older man named Frank Hudson, and the only downside of the location he had ended up it was the fact that it was too hot to wear his favorite coat.
Still, as he sat on a wooden bench idly smoking a cigarette, Sherlock Holmes felt content. Groggy and in need of his next fix, yet content. Finding drugs was no longer a problem and he didn't have Mycroft to stop him, so Sherlock had some time to relax.
Relaxation for Sherlock meant sitting on his bench in the park, observing people. South Pointe Park was right near Hudson's house, and Sherlock wanted to be the first to receive some of the coke shipment the man had coming in on this particular day. Sherlock liked to first observe, and then make deductions about the people who passed by. As the people walked by, Sherlock would yell things like, "Your wife is cheating on you!" or, "You had a disappointing sexual experience with your boyfriend last night."
Some would keep walking and not say a word. Most would look embarrassed and ask him how he knew. He would gladly tell them. From there, they would either be amazed, foolishly threaten to call the police, or attempt to throw a punch at them. So predictable.
Sherlock didn't care. It was all good fun. Sherlock wondered how long his ease would last.
Suddenly, a gunshot rang out. The citizens began to scream and flee the park, but Sherlock paid no attention. His mind blurred out the noise and started to work.
Judging by the volume of the gunshot, the weapon was fired approximately one Miami city block away.
Frank's house is one block away.
There was nothing more peaceful to Sherlock Holmes than chaos.
AN- Hi guys! I'm Vic and I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my story. Don't worry, Dexter will come into it soon. If you guys want more, just let me know!
PS- if you live in Miami please forgive my lack of geographical knowledge of the city.
