I opened the door to the flat me and my best friend Molly shared in London. We were both American but we moved to London for school. I recently got a vacation from work, since the shop was under maintenance. I found her in the kitchen making toast for a snack. "Sherlock?" I asked. She jumped a little at the sound of my voice. "Sure, get it started." As I put in the DVD we had of season 2 I heard a pattering at my window. I got up and looked outside. It was my friend Jack, like usual. I yelled down to him. "You know I wait for the 2nd rock before I open my window right?" I told him sarcastically. "GOODNIGHT!" He yelled up at me. "Night!" I yelled back. He does that every night since we graduated. We were in the same class. Even if he was out of town he'd get someone to do it for him. I shut the window as Molly had already started 'The Hounds Of Baskerville' It was our favourite episode. It was after the scene where John just got the key to their room that the tele shut off. "Oh great!" Molly exclaimed, banging the side of the screen with her palm, as if to make it turn on again. Then the power went out. We both tensed up as we heard a loud thump and voices in the other room. We were alone, before. Molly was as still as a stone but I got curious. I took my Sonic Screwdriver flashlight and ventured into the said room.
"This is your fault! I don't know how you managed it but you teleported us Sherlock!" Someone yelled. Sherlock? "This isn't my fault John!" Another voice yelled. I ran up to the shut door and kicked it open to find Benedict Cumberbatch arguing with Martin Freeman in my bedroom. I nearly passed out. "What the HELL are you doing in my flat!?" I yelled at them, just realising how angry I actually was. "I'm really sorry about this, it's just, Sherlock was doing one of his experiments and we ended up here." Martin explained or John. I'm not really sure right now. "Wait, hold on you're actually John Watson and Sherlock Holmes?" "Yes, you've heard of us?" "Yes I think most people have. Where are you what was the last case you solved?" I asked, not wanting to give any spoilers about their future. "We just solved the case with the bank." John appearently said. "I see, come with me. You too Sherlock! Stop going through my desk!" I lead them out of my room and into the main room.
"Molly! It's okay it's not robbers, its Sherlock and John!" I told her, trying to sound like I wasn't joking as hard as possible. "What?" She said as our power returned. "Oh my god!" Which was quite the exclamation from her because she was atheist the last time I checked. "Sit down you two. We need to explain some things to you." Molly got the jist of what I was about to say and said it for me. "You two are fictional characters from a book." "Oh please." Sherlock said. Molly ran into the other room and grabbed the book and threw it at John. "The Complete Sherlock Holmes volume 1 By Sir Arthur Conan Doyle." John said aloud as he read the cover then he flipped to the back for the summary. "Eccentric, arrogant, and ingeniuos, Sherlock Holmes remains the world's most popular fictional detective. In four novels and fifty-six short stories, Holmes, with his trusted friend Dr. Watson, steps from his comfortable quarters at 221b Baker st. into the swirling fog of London. Combining detailed observation with brilliant deduction, Holmes rescues the innocent, confounds the guilty, and solves the most perplexing puzzles crime has to offer. Blimey your right! What th- The sign of Four intruduces Holmes's COCAINE problem! My God Sherlock! AND Watson's future wife! WHAT!?" I took the book away from him! "Sorry John too many spoilers! If you cared to read further it's set in 1891! When cocaine was legal. That in which is now replaced with your nicotine addition Sherlock." I explained as Molly nodded along.
"Now this I've wanted to hear this for ages, and I know you're dying to Sherlock, I can see it. Go ahead tell me your deductions on me." "Well," He started I was prepared for anything at thet moment whether it be flattering or insulting, which was more likely, I really didn't care at thet moment. I really didn't care.
"you're clearly an author as you have ink all over your hands and you have a lot of caleses on your hands from typing and large spaces between your fingers, aslo from typing. You haven't published anything yet since finding a company that will publish your stories seems to be hard. To earn a living your a retail worker and your for the moment not at work. Your a genius at maths but you don't like to do them. You were the smartest in school, seeing by your framed valadictorian diploma from high school. Your American truly but you don't like that. You clearly moved here for school, you've dyed your hair ginger many times, but you have to keep redying it blonde because your mother, being very religious and gullible doesn't like gingers, you frankly don't care seeing that you were about to dye it again by the bottle of dye in your room. You love to read, which got you into writing in the first place. You clearly have no problem with death or murder, unless its someone you core about, like Molly here, clearly since you've read my books. You like weird things, you know that, you know your weird and don't get insulted when people call you insane, because thats what you think you are, insane, which no one agrees with except your enemies, which you seemingly have a lot of since you don't have a lot of friends according to your address book, so whats left is enemies, you don't really care that you have more enemies than average people, because your extremely anti-social and see no need for more then a few friends, like me. Thats it."
I stood back in awe. So thats what the Sherlock Holmes thought of me, well, wow! "I'm impressed! And not that insulted, thank you." I replied, still flustered. "Wait, you're not mad at him? Seriously? Your not mad." John asked me, very surprised. "He's entirly right. I have no problem with the truth." I replied. John just sat back more shocked then before. "Here's the thing, you really can't leave this flat, in this, universe I suppose, you two are famous actors, and you can't just go wandering outside okay. You'll get flocked, and if you run into the actors that play you two..." "It won't be very good." John finished for me understanding the situation at hand. "Yeah I'm really sorry though. You'll have to stay in our guest room for now, sorry." Molly explained.
"Well it's late, you guys need to go to sleep." I stated getting up from my seat. There goes all of my chances of going as Sherlock for Halloween this year. "What about you? Aren't you going to sleep." John asked me. "Nah, I don't usually sleep, it's just a waste of time." I replied. "Then what do you do during the hours everybody else is asleep?" Sherlock asked me. "I use the time to write, or think, or read." "Good use of wasted time," Sherlock said. "Wait, hold on, what's you're name?" John asked me. I realised then that I never told them. "It's Ella Morti." I was glad there was no tension over my last name since niether man had met Moriarty yet, gladly. "Goodnight." I said to them, as they left for their new rooms, Sherlock, obviously, stayed behind, got in his position, and seemingly started to think about the situation around him, I'd imagine. After about an hour he drifted off into dreamland as well, surprisingly. I covered him in a blanket and returned to my writing.
I hope like it! The next other chapters will be sort of random drabbles about them living at Ella and Molly's flat. Hope you'll keep reading!
-EM