All stories start the same: a girl, probably very attractive, with big boobs and a thin waist sitting in a public place and being approached by a male, offering her a job. That's not how this story starts.

It starts with Marie sitting at home, watching The Breakfast Club with her stuffed animal named George and eating a large tub of ice cream. When Judd Nelson's character ends the movie with one final air-fist, she sighs dreamily and closes the ice cream, giving the spoon one final lick and taking both to the kitchen. Her roommate Ana was out for the evening, probably with her boyfriend Isaiah, so she had the whole place to herself.

That is, she would have had the place to herself if the door wasn't kicked in and a tall man with dark brown hair and sharp cheekbones stepped in.

Letting out a startled gasp, she pressed herself against the kitchen counter, holding the spoon in front of her, as if that would protect her. With a shaky voice and wild eyes, she managed to ask, "Who are you?" before fainting.

When coming to, she first noticed the ice pack on her head – or maybe it was a bag of peas, it did feel rather lumpy – and then she noticed the very attractive male sitting on her couch…in her spot! How dare he! First he comes barging in, and now he's sitting in her spot, probably ruining the crater she'd worked on for over a year of being single.

"I don't think we've been properly introduced. I'm Sherlock Holmes, a consulting detective. Although it pains me to say it, I need your help." Marie paused in her fuming, having only caught the last few words he'd said. "Hold on a second, sir. You need my help? With what?" The man didn't answer her, and she was mildly relieved because if he had spoken again, she would have melted into a pile of goo at the sound of his voice.

Seriously. It was like a caramel waterfall, and she could listen to it all day if she could. Hell, his voice would so smooth, he could read the dictionary and she'd still swoon. And Marie Applegate never swooned. This simple fact made her dislike him even more. Standing up, the patchy blanket her mother made her when she went away for school slid from her shoulders and she stood there in a simple with tank top and blue flannel pajama bottoms.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm afraid you must leave." The man stood sharply. "I need your help." Instead of answering, she walked to the door, determination in her steps. Turning to face him, she put a hand on her hip and opened the door. "Unless you tell me what you need my help with, you can leave." Marie knew it wasn't fair, but she'd be damned if she was bullied into agreeing to something because of a man with caramel voice.

"I need you to hide me."

That caught Marie's attention.

"What sort of things have you gotten so far into that you need hiding?" She crossed her arms, fully becoming aware of the chill outside – and she wasn't wearing a bra. He noticed, and his cheeks turned a light pink and he turned his eyes back to hers. "It's none of your concern…" Marie gaped at him.

"You're joking, right? You want me to help you – hide you! – and you won't tell me what you need hiding from?" The man frowned, again. Marie glanced into his eyes and wished she hadn't. The swirling blues and greens and all things beautiful made his eyes the world's biggest distraction ever. But she wasn't having it! "You tell me now, or I'll call the cops."

Why hadn't she done that earlier?

"Actually, that sounds like the best idea I've had all week. Oh, strange man in my house? Let me talk to him instead of calling the cops! I'm absolutely brilliant!" The man simply stared at her while she went into panicked-rant-mode. "Don't call the police. Just, sit down, put on a sweater because you seem to be turning blue. Once you're seated and warm, I'll tell you everything."

Marie frowned, debating internally over if she should do as he says or not. If her mother were there, she would say 'Marie Christina Applegate, you have an attractive man sitting in your living room and you're not taking advantage of that?!' Marie could tell her mother would be greatly disappointed if Marie didn't at least hear him out.

"Fine, but you sit over there. That's my spot." With one last glare, she walked quickly to her bedroom, shivering against the harsh cold coming in from her open window. Why do I leave my window open in the middle of winter? Shaking her head, she grabbed her oversized black sweater – the one her mother knit for her – and walked back out to the strange man sitting in her living room.

"So, Blue Eyes, tell me your story."

**Hello** So, I've decided to start writing again and this kind of happened in like, an hour. I hope its good so far. I'll try and update some of my older stories, but it will take some time. But, of course, my story Banned List has been updated! If you haven't read it, check it out. It might be something that I do for the Sherlock fandom as well. Let me know what you think of Blue Eyes and review!

~AccioLoki