I don't own Sherlock Holmes, Doctor Watson, or any other Doyle character. The character of Jaben Strocken, however, is entirely my own creation.

The Adventure

of the

Dating Service

On looking back at my notes and writings of the incredible abilities of my intimate friend and colleague, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I come to the realization that I have never recorded, or even implied, the private life of my friend. Holmes never wanted me to. Frankly, I don't care anymore. I'll tell you anyway. As there are many tales to be told of what happened to my friend when he wasn't busy on any of the cases which the public never failed to present him. One such story comes to my mind which I shall recount here.

Over the years of our friendship, Holmes never failed to remind me that he was never a whole-souled admirer of womankind. He vowed never to marry lest his abilities be marred by the vain and high drama he believed was entailed with such a practice. Nevertheless, I always trued to persuade him away from his current state of mind and to more in favor of women and marrying. It is on this subject that I shall dwell in this account. My latest attempt at changing Holmes' mind was, admittably, a bit questionable. I had submitted Sherlock Holmes' name for a random dating service. I believe I actually intended it to be a joke, because as soon as I did the act, I emitted a laugh that caused considerable pain in my throat.

When I told Holmes of what I had done, I regretted it instantly. His eyes burned, his eyebrows drew, his nostrils flared up, and he promptly seized me and tossed me into a wall. But it was too late to change anything; the lady was already pulling up in front of our quarters at 221B Baker Street. . Holmes stared down at her and gave a start, seizing me by the arm. "Good God, Watson!" he exclaimed. "I know," I chuckled. "She's beautiful, isn't she?" But, to my dismay, Sherlock Holmes shook his head fervently. "No, Watson. She's married!" I looked back, surprised, but saw no ring on any of her fair fingers.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Holmes. Now, I know that you're nervous. That's OK."

"No, Watson! You-"

"Now, Holmes. This will be good for you."

"Wa-"

"Here she comes, Holmes."

She entered the room at a stride and looked expectantly between us. Her gaze faltered on me, disgusted. It was probably because I was wearing what I must admit must have looked like a very forced and creepy grin. This grin disappeared, however, when she spoke. "Which one of you is Mr. Sherlock Holmes?" She sounded remarkably like a man. In fact, there was not even a hint of female in her voice. I looked over at Holmes, who looked as though he were about to cry.

"The- the name is mine." Holmes said, as he found his voice again, although it sounded somewhat choked. She looked immensely relieved. "Nice to meet you." She said in her amazingly masculine voice. "I'm Jaben Strocken." Holmes looked like he was thinking hard. "um… what do you do for a living?"

"Shouldn't we go to dinner first, Mr. Holmes?"

"YES!" I interjected.

Ms. Strocken gave me another disgusted look, but Holmes reluctantly offered her his arm, and we were off.

We went to a French restaurant called Le Deux ma Maux de Dreukmuh le Menehes lar Treuck me Daulla de Makko Makko te lita Micha Mushi Shu. Their food was luscious. Anyway, it was here that Holmes had problems.

"So," he began. "Mrs. Strocken, what do you do for a living?"

"Don't you mean 'Ms.?'"

"What?"
"You called me Mrs. Strocken. I'm Ms. Strocken."

"Yeah, right."

"What?"

"I mean, I'm sure that's what I must have meant."

"Well, what do YOU do fot a living, Mr. Holmes?"

"I'm an unofficial consulting detective."

"You- you don't work?"

"No, I do. I'm an unofficial consulting detective."

"Oh, right."

"You don't think that's work?"

"Well, if you're an unofficial consulting detective, then all you really do is sit there and think."

"At least I can."

We were both taken aback by what he just said.

"WHAT?"

I jumped in. "Uh, no, he means nothing by it, sir- ma'am!"

This didn't help much. She got up and left. Holmes and I pursued her and managed to calm her down.

We spent the remainder of the night at the theatre. All three of us enjoyed ourselves, but Holmes did so by forgetting that Ms. Strocken was there.

By the end of the night, Ms. Strocken was warm to Holmes again, even a bit attracted. At least for a little bit. We were sitting at a park bench when it all went wrong. Holmes had his eyes closed and was tapping his fingertips rapidy on the seat. He looked to be engaged in pure happiness. I had no doubt that he was pleasantly recounting our experience in the theatre. Ms. Strocken was peering doubtfully at him. "I enjoyed the night, Mr. Holmes." She said, with some hesitation. Holmes lifted his eyelids. He looked annoyed at having been interrupted. "I am glad." He said sourly. All of a sudden she threw herself towards Holmes. "Kiss me!" she said. Holmes looked coolly at her. "No." he said. Ms. Strocken looked affronted. "That's it!" she shouted. "I have been trying at you all night! Why the bloody hell did you sign up for this if you weren't prepared to be romantic?!"

At this, I exchanged a guilty glance with Holmes. I truly felt bad now. All I could do was hope that he would find it in himself to forgive me. At our silence, Ms. Strocken stood up hastily. She swayed as the blood rushed to her head. I burped and that made her more angry. The food was really good, after all. "I give up! I hated to-night and I hate both of you! Oh, and one more thing. I'M MARRIED!" She said those last two words in a voice so manly that Holmes and I later agreed neither of us would ever hope to match it. She stormed off, leaving me utterly surprised. But when I looked over at my friend, I was appalled to see that he was not the least bit shocked. But then I remembered what he had said earlier. "Holmes… how did you know that she was married?" I asked.

"I knew by the way she approached the house. Did you see the way she was looking warily around at the passersby? Obviously looking for someone."

"She could have been looking for anyone."

"Yes, my dear Watson. But, her gaze only lingered on the men. She passed right over the women. She was obviously trying to avoid being caught by either her husband or his friends."

"I see now." I said. "Well, what a most despicable woman!"

"Indeed." Holmes replied.

"Holmes…" I began.

"Don't apologize. You should actually be congratulating yourself. If it hadn't been for to-night's little adventure, I would most assuredly have turned to the cocaine bottle."

And thus ends the story of the woebegotten dating attempt. We never heard of Mrs. Jaben Strocken again, and Holmes' opinion toward the female gender by no means changed. But he could never suppress an amiable chuckle whenever her name was mentioned.