I've seen far too many 'Sherlock' stories where the authors put in a character who is pretty obviously just supposed to be themselves, this character then falls in love with Sherlock who suddenly realises that he's in love and becomes uncharacteristically lovely towards them. Don't get me wrong I've read some fantastic ones that I really enjoy (and would be happy to share with people if they'd like) but I really am fed up with the bad ones. I had a think about what would make a decent story and this was the list I made myself:
No love interest between either Sherlock or John and my OC (especially not within the first story)
A proper case with a proper answer
A reasonably realistic OC
Keep all characters IN CHARACTER
So I thought to myself, how hard can it be? This is the answer to that question. I don't know if it's good enough for its purpose , I'll let you be the judge of that.
A Tight Spot
They stared at each other, deep and penetrating. Clear blue eyes with hawk like precision meeting soft brown orbs glazed with uncertainty. They searched for the answers they both desperately needed but none came. A loud clanging noise resounded through the cold, empty room making one of them jump, startled by the general silence, only before broken by the consistent dripping of hot water from a rusty pipe. A shaky breath past through the lips of the brown eyed woman, she pulled gently at the rope wound around her wrists and the arms of the chair she was in. Her male counterpart glanced at the movement of her hands and a small smile tugged at his lips. "That won't work." He told her, his voice low and little fragmented. Her eyes hardened and she gave another defiant tug. He seemed almost relaxed, pulled back against his own chair by the bindings on his feet, wrists, waist and neck.
"At least I'm trying." He rolled his eyes.
"Oh yes, that's the main objective here." He looked to the sides of the room scanning them carefully, "If you want to escape, escape, 'trying' is a waste of effort."
"Then think of a plan."
"I have."
"Then let me in on it." He remained silent. "You don't really have a plan do you." He glared at her.
"Why do you keep looking at me like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like you expect something of me." She purposefully looked away from him. "There is absolutely nothing I can do for you in this situation so either stop looking at me like that or, even better, just stop looking at me."
They were silent for a few minutes until a muffled tap tapping of shoes on the concrete floor in the outside corridor interrupted the eerie quiet.
"Sherlock."
"What?" he snapped.
"Could you just, tell me you have a plan?" Her voice betrayed a hint of the panic, rising in her chest as the footsteps grew nearer.
"No." he told her quietly, more gentle than before.
"Why not?"
"Because I promised John."
The lock on the heavy metal door snapped and a stream of bright white light blinded them as they cowered from the figure in the opening.
So, interested?