Chapter 1

This is in the same universe as A Small Change. If you haven't read ASC, that's fine. The only thing you really need to know is that Sherlock is female.

This is the silliest drabble I've ever written, but it was SO MUCH FUN. 10/10 stars, would recommend. I changed the locations/names just for the sake of those who wrote the original postings.

And lastly, for those who care about timelines, I imagine this taking place sometime after The Blind Banker but before The Great Game.

Hope you enjoy!


Sherlock paced. Ran her hand through her hair. Soft. Smelled like her shampoo. And sweat. Probably needed another wash. Long hair always seemed to.

Turn, pace. She thought about playing her cello, then discarded the idea. John was gone to work. With Simon. She rolled her eyes. Pedestrian name.

Turn, pace. John's laptop was on the coffee table. He never seemed to put it away, it was always just sitting there, battery out, plugged in. He'd been on it more, lately. Blogging, he said. She didn't really feel like blogging. She'd just posted a large treatise on tobacco ash.

All the same, the internet was larger than the flat. There must be something other than cat videos on it. She flopped down on the sofa and opened John's laptop, cracking the password easily after a couple of tries. BR0WN1NG501D13R was slightly better than his last one, she had to admit. At least he'd stuck numbers in it.

He had a website up. Craigslist. It looked like a newspaper adverts page. Dull. She looked at the page he had up - he'd been looking for miniature refridgerators - what did he need an extra fridge for? - and then clicked on the home page.

It brought her to a London-centric profile with plenty to choose from. Her eyes flicked to "Personals". That was always one of the most entertaining parts of a newspaper, so she decided to try it.

"Strictly Platonic" was her next choice, because some part of her instincts warned her that if she decided to click on the other parts of the personals section she was likely to get bombarded with pictures of genitals. And while she didn't generally mind pictures of genitals, she preferred only seeing them when they were useful to her, such as last week when the herpes on the victim had helped prove that the doctor was the murderer.

Clicking "MfW" and "WfW' made sense after that, two different tabs open.

The "WfW' page was mostly girls looking for shopping dates or someone to go to the club with. Dull. She closed it after opening a few tabs and glancing over them.

The "MfW" page was slightly more amusing, if for no other reason than the males on the site didn't seem to understand what 'strictly platonic' meant, since half of them seemed to be fishing for a girlfriend anyway. Still, she found one that caught her eye halfway down the page. Clicking on the email, she composed a reply, copying the man's ad and replying into it directly, in italics, because Mycroft hated italics, and would undoubtedly be reading this.


TO: d-dot-brown-dot-bioware-at-gmail-dot-com

FROM: s-dot-h-dot-deductions-at-gmail-dot-com

SUBJECT: Re: Craigslist

Ask a man - m4w - 43 (43) Interesting. Father or older brother figure?

I'm not a licensed therapist, doctor, or shrink, or millionaire. Brilliant. They're boring. Always by the books. Well, most doctors, anyway.

Just a regular guy like the ones that walk past you every day. Wrong. Regular guys don't post messages on Craigslist telling women they're willing to be a shoulder to cry on. What do you get out of the arrangement?

I'm here via email if you need a man's point of view or advice on a situation in your life. I have my John, so I don't necessarily need a man's point of view. Nor is anything wrong, so I don't need advice. I suppose I break the rules a bit. No question too odd. Brilliant! I need to know the amount at which black mold spores become harmful to human lungs.

Anonymous, non-judgement, and respectful of your thoughts and feelings. The complete opposite of myself, then. And Mycroft. Not dull, though. And I highly doubt you can be non-judgement, let alone non-judgemental, which I think is what you meant. No one can be entirely unbiased. Annoying, as it invalidates certain experiments.

~S.H.


The door clicked. John was home, then. Sherlock signed out of her account and closed Craigslist, shutting the laptop and closing her eyes. She filed this email under "Social Experiments" in the office of her Mind Palace, then opened her eyes as a delicious scent wafted towards her. John stood there with two trays.

"I got you curry."


Author's Note:

Edit: The section dividers didn't go in right the first time I posted this. My apologies. I'll double check the next chapters.