A/N: This is my first story, and I hope you guys love it. But I just want to clear up something before anyone gets too confused because of the name changes. The Mary in this story is the usual Jane. However, because John Watson marries a woman named Mary, I figured I should probably add that in. The Mary from Pride and Prejudice is Isabella, or Bella, in this story. Thanks and happy reading! -Amber Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Pride and Prejudice or Sherlock Holmes, or any of their modern retellings.

Chapter 1

"It's elementary my dear Bingley," the man told his companion, calmly.

The man called Bingley laughed at the gentleman. "Is that the case, Darcy? Please, by all means, tell me what I've overlooked," he said, flippantly.

"There is always the option of boarding with me at Pemberley."

Bingley scoffed. "Sherlock, you insult me. Every head of house needs a house to be head of. You've inherited yours; I wish to buy my own. London just doesn't suit my fancy. A country estate would be lovely, don't you think?"

"I think that we shan't get any work in the country."

"We're quite wealthy enough to never work again, my friend."

"I fear not the payment, I fear we should be dreadfully bored," Darcy huffed.

"Why do you keep saying 'we?'" Bingley chuckled.

"John, you surely didn't think I'd be such a sorry excuse for a friend as to let you go alone, did you?"

"But Molly and Louisa shall accompany me," Bingley cried. His response evoked a doubting side glance from Darcy; one that when Bingley noticed, was so ridiculous, it caused the pair to burst into a fit of giddy laughter.

"So it's settled," Sherlock continued. "Let us find you a county estate."

-Some Weeks Later-

Elizabeth Adler lounged lazily on her bed. Sighing, she closed her favorite book, worn from constant use. She rolled over to look at her older sister. She stayed in that position for a moment, just taking her in.

Mary was the eldest Adler sister, of which there were five, as well as the prettiest. She was the only one with the good fortune of having golden hair. In addition to all her physical advantages, she was also the kindest soul to have ever inhabited the Earth. Elizabeth was proud to have such a sister, role- model, and best friend. "Mary," she began finally. "I'm frightfully bored," she said in a whiny tone.

Mary turned away from the mirror where she had been brushing her hair and sat down the brush to look at Elizabeth. "Come now, Lizzie," she spoke with a beautiful chiming voice. "You know complaining is as bad for the soul as it is for the complexion." She added a laugh.

"You know just as well as I that I've never cared much for my appearance," Lizzie mumbled.

"Have you already finished your book?"

"For the umpteenth time, yes. It gets progressively easier to skim through the more I read it. I could probably recite it like poetry," Elizabeth said arrogantly.

"Well then, why don't we go into town to get you something new?" Mary asked pleasantly. She was always looking for an excuse to go out and enjoy the fresh air. "Maybe there'll be new books, and I'm sure the other girls could use some new things, also. Don't forget there's a ball within a fortnight," she added cheerfully.

Of course Mary would think of everyone else; she couldn't be selfish to save her own life, thought Elizabeth. "Oh, why ever not?" she did eventually say with a smile.

An hour and a half later, the five Adler sisters were en route to Meryton. Catherine, commonly referred to as Kitty walked at the head of the parade with her idol, Lydia. As the two youngest at seventeen and fifteen respectively, they were also the most foolish. When they were together, the only things they ever discussed were boys and dresses. Lizzie had always wondered why Kitty would flock behind a girl younger than herself, especially one so ridiculous. Still the reasoning eluded her, and she had come to accept it as one of the world's greatest mysteries.

Next in the lineup was Isabella, the middle sister. This poor girl was the outcast of the family. Mary and Elizabeth were the paternal favorites, as they were the pair that embodied the sense. Kitty and Lydia processed their mother's heart, due to their energy and youth. Isabella had none of this. She was not stupid; however, she was quite silly in the sense of outrageously absurd. And at nineteen, she had outgrown any energy she'd had. Lizzie detested being too harshly critical of any of her sisters but the facts stood where they did. Bella's accomplishments consisted of being the best pianist in the family while being the plainest daughter.

Mary and Elizabeth walked together in the back of the group and talked about the fresh September air. Their formations always ended this way, as Lizzie liked to keep an eye on her asinine younger sisters while Mary kept her company, and Kitty and Lydia led the charge, more often than not, scouting for men.

After a few miles, the party came within the city limits of Meryton. Like clockwork, Kitty and Lydia ran off to find some acquaintances while Bella sauntered off into the fabric shop. Elizabeth and Mary had decided on the way to go stop at the book store first, then meet up with Isabella in the fabric shop.

Walking into the store, the pair split up. Mary briskly walked towards the bookshelves while Lizzie stood by the door. Just as she had decided to give some mystery a try, her best friend, Charlotte Lucas, turned away from the counter after purchasing some items and noticed her standing there. "Elizabeth," she shouted. "How are you, my dear?" Charlotte asked her as she approached. They shared a cordial hug.

"I'm great! How have you been Charlotte?" Elizabeth asked back.

"Fine… Have you heard the news?"

"Tell me," Lizzie almost yelled with excitement. She was no gossip, but so little happened around Meryton, that the blandest news was circulated for weeks.

"All right, well you know the estate that's been on the market for a while now, Baker Park?"

"Of course," Lizzie replied.

"Well apparently, it's been let at last! Isn't it wonderful news…? We shall finally have some new faces and, hopefully, acquaintances."

"Do you know who? Have you met the family?"

"Heavens no, they're not here yet. They should be before the week is out, however."

"Did you at least catch a name? Are there no facts, only speculation?" Lizzie asked, exasperated.

Charlotte laughed at Elizabeth's outburst. "I heard the buyer is a young man named Bingley. John Bingley, I believe. And there's no family; he's unmarried."

"Now that's news," cried Elizabeth. Charlotte's name was called from somewhere outside. "I guess that's my cue to leave," she said to Lizzie. "Why don't you and your family come over for dinner tonight?"

"We'd love to," Elizabeth answered. Charlotte was called again.

"Ok, now I really need to leave. Goodbye Lizzie!"

"Bye Charlotte," Elizabeth called after her on her way out. The moment she'd walked out the door, Mary took her place.

"Was that Charlotte Lucas?"

"Yes, she was just telling me some news," Lizzie explained to her.

"Speaking of news, look what's in this week's," Mary said while handing her a newspaper.

"'P.I. to Retire and Leave London?'" Elizabeth read aloud, confused.

"You know that famous detective Sherlock Darcy? Reputation pins him as an actual genius. I just figured you'd get a kick out of reading about it since you like brain teasers and he's solved some mind- numbing ones," Mary continued by pulling out a book detailing a few of his cases.

"Maybe I'll give it a read."

Later that afternoon, Elizabeth and Mary walked out of the fabric shop and began heading back to Longbourne. Bella had opted to continue shopping, and as it was Kitty and Lydia were nowhere to be found. So the pair walked off alone.

Along the road from Meryton to Longbourne, the path winds through a densely populated forest everywhere but the main street. It was on this very street that Elizabeth confided in Mary what Charlotte had told her in the book store.

"Are you serious?" Mary asked. "Of course you're serious, why would you lie? Oh! What wonderful news."

"Indeed, however, I'm just relaying what's going through the grape vine right now. Should be indulge mother or no? You know the second she hears, it'll be the only thing she ever speaks of again," Elizabeth answered, doubtful.

"Why wouldn't we? Any discomfort can be endured if you bring joy to another person, Lizzie," Mary said indignantly.

"Well if you feel we should tell her, then we shall," Elizabeth told her, ending their discussion.

Just at that moment, Mary and Elizabeth heard voices coming from the forest, headed straight for them.

"-course YOU would want to go for a late afternoon walk through the forest, John," a strong voice stated as the group came within hearing distance. Lizzie and Mary looked at each other, confused. Do we know any Johns? Lizzie wondered.

A party of two gentlemen stepped out of the woods as the shorter one replied, "Come now, Darcy. Traipsing through nature builds one's character." He began to chuckle heartily at his friend but stopped once he caught sight of two young ladies paused in the middle of the road.

Elizabeth had observed the pair since they had crossed the tree line. The average sized fellow who had been talking as they had exited the forest was red from laughing at his companion. He was the more portly of the two and had light hair. His eyes seemed kind and his smile was natural, as if he did so often. Elizabeth could tell he was a good man and wished to become acquainted with him. She sensed Mary thinking the same thing.

Then Lizzie shifted her gaze over to the other gentleman, and was immediately surprised at the stark contrast between the two. He was considerably taller than the other, and quite skinny. His hair was a dark brown, so dark in fact the light shining on it caused the color to appear tar black. The way he held himself screamed "proud" at her. The second he had noticed Mary and herself, his mouth had turned down into a scowl. His eyebrows were drawn together, giving Lizzie the impression he was shrewd and clever, but she didn't like the look in his eyes. He was glaring directly at her.

"Come now, Darcy. Traipsing through nature builds one's character," Bingley said as they stepped across the tree line onto what appeared to be a road. He laughed and looked at Darcy, only to see he'd gone rigid. Bingley turned his attention back to the road and noticed a pair of women standing there. After a long, and awkward, surprised silence, Bingley stepped forward and took the initiative. "Good afternoon to you ladies," he said cheerfully while bowing his greeting.

Meanwhile, Darcy stayed in place. What's going on here? The moment he'd seen the group of girls, something extraordinary had happened. Usually, when he makes a new acquaintance, Sherlock Darcy can tell things about the person others would need to be specifically told. That's what he'd built his entire reputation on. He glanced at the attractive blonde girl again:

Caring…Religious…Reserved…Average Income…

The usual happened. He saw traits about people. They appeared as words that flew across his vision. People probably thought he was insane, but he was of so much assistance to the police that no one cared, not even himself. He tried the brunette again:

?...?...?...

How was that possible? How could it be that the renowned Sherlock Darcy… couldn't read someone? He felt his eyes tighten as he looked at her harder.

Eventually, Darcy was brought to Earth by John's talking. He realized he was being terribly rude and, like normal, didn't care about social custom, but maybe, just maybe, his eyes had missed something and getting closer could clear up this horrible blight on his pristine record.

He approached the group of newly formed acquaintances as Bingley began to trail off. "And may I introduce my good friend, Mr. Darcy?" he said, grabbing Sherlock and pulling him amidst the party. The ladies curtsied and Darcy forgot to bow until Bingley nudged him. I really need to get out more. "Sherlock," Bingley continued. "This is Mary," directing to the blonde, "and Elizabeth Adler," motioning to the other.

This woman, Elizabeth, was quite a thing to behold. She was a short little thing, with her long brown hair pulled in a working bun and brown eyes to match. Her sister, this Mary, was the far more beautiful one however, just by a glance one could see in Elizabeth's face that she wasn't the type to take anything from anybody. And yet…

?...?...?...

Darcy still couldn't read her. This really was quite bizarre. So he just nodded at Bingley's introductions. He was too flabbergasted for anything else. He continued to squint at Elizabeth.

"Excuse me," Mary said. "Did you say Sherlock Darcy?"

"Have you heard of us?" John asked, surprised. "Probably Darcy more than I, eh?"

"I'm sorry, but no," she said sincerely. "I just read this paper," she motioned to the paper in Elizabeth's hands.

Embarrassed…

Bingley took the paper. "Well Sherlock," he grinned. "I guess you made headlines one last time, old pal."

Sherlock awoke from his trance. He grabbed the paper from John and skimmed it. "Bingley, will not your sisters worry if we dawdle too long?" he asked impatiently.

Bingley checked his pocket watch. "Oh," he exclaimed. "You're quite right! I'd lost track of time, thank you Darcy… You will pardon us ladies?"

"Of course, sir," Elizabeth answered with a smile. She turned towards Darcy but was dismissed by his pulling Bingley away by his tailcoat.

After he'd pulled John a significant distance back into the woods, Bingley wriggled out of Darcy's grasp. "What was all that about, Sherlock?" he yelled at Darcy. "You and I both know we told my sisters not to hold supper as we'd be out late." Bingley sighed and rubbed his head. "And why were you so quiet? Sherlock, THEY brought you up. You didn't even have to brag yourself up this time! Isn't that what you've always dreamt of?" Bingley cried out.

"I'm sorry, I was a little distracted…"

"A little? Distracted? By the glare on your face, you'd think those poor girls killed Myla! Especially Elizabeth… You need to apologize to her… You didn't see anything weird about them, did you? Is that why you wanted us away from there so quickly?" John was talking so fast, he was stumbling over his words.

"No, no I didn't see anything—"

"Thank goodness! They seemed like wonderful people. I should like to become better acquainted with them," Bingley interjected.

"John, that's the point. I didn't see anything…" Bingley's mouth fell open. "Not on Elizabeth anyway. I could see the blonde's."

"How's that possible?" Bingley wondered aloud, completely dumbstruck.

"I don't know. That's why I took you with me."

"What a rude, pompous man!" Elizabeth yelled the second Sherlock Darcy had pulled Mr. Bingley out of sight. "What was that?"

"I don't know," Mary replied, just as confused as Lizzie. Her cheeks were still flushed from her recent divulging of reading about the pair. "He did act quite odd."

"Quite odd? Quite terribly! If he wasn't so famous, I'd assume he was raised in a barn with his manners."

"That's a little harsh, Elizabeth. Maybe he's just shy…" Mary trailed off, wondering how she could make Mr. Darcy sound like acceptable society after the introduction they'd just had.

"I think not! Did you see how he glared at me the entire time? As if I'd spit on his shoes… He should come out of his early retirement. I hope I never see Sherlock Darcy again." And with that she tossed his book into the overgrown forest and marched home with Mary at her heels.

End Chapter 1