By The Hands of Sherlock Holmes


Hello all! I couldn't stay away, so I decided to post another chapter! Yay! This probably won't be a regular occurrences. Anyway, you don't want to hear me talk, so on with the story! (Just a quick note, I am aware that Britain uses BSL (British Sign Language) but I am using ASL (American Sign Language) because that is my language. I am Deaf so I use the language I am most familiar with.)


I don't own Sherlock or any related characters. All rights to the original creators. I am making no profit from this. No infringement intended.


Chapter 2

John found himself, the next day, riding on his way to 221 B Baker Street. He had no idea what he was going to find, but he was oddly excited. He had been in a depression ever since he had left the army and he hadn't felt happiness or excitement in a while. He had brought along a note pad to write on, as it seemed that that was the only way to communicate; or was it? Sherlock had signed that last sentence in ASL, maybe he did know sign. His head had been rushing with thoughts all day. He was intrigued by this man. He had always claimed to be straight, but he found himself fantasizing about being with Sherlock, in a café, eating and chatting in ASL. He wasn't sure if these were hopeful thinking or...something else.

He was jolted out of his daydreams when the cab stopped in front of a row of apartments. He got out of the cab and saw the marvelous, mysterious, man called Sherlock Holmes standing by the front door. He smiles a bit before silently signing, "Hello. Good Morning Mr. Holmes."

He didn't think that Sherlock would truly understand what he had said, but he figured, well, it was at least worth a try. Sherlock pulled out his phone and typed, "Sherlock, please."

As he hands the phone over he signs the sentence that he had written. John was astounded. He handed the phone back and shook Sherlock's hand. He grabbed his notepad and pen and wrote, "Well, this is a prime spot. Must be expensive."

He decided that, ever if this man knew sign language, he was still brand new to it. He signed like he had been signing for a while now, but it was obvious that he didn't know any sign when he started chatting with the man yesterday. He must have started learning yesterday. Perhaps this flat mate would be alright. He was definitely different compared to all the flat mates he ever had. He was following Sherlock absently. The action felt so natural, as if he had always been following Sherlock around. The detective hadn't replied yet. He was simply typing. They had walked into the front entry. John had been so distracted with his own thoughts that he bumped into Sherlock's staled figure. Sherlock turned to face the shorter man, handing him his phone again. He established eye contact, signed and said, "Mrs. Hudson, the landlady, she's giving me a special deal. Owes me a favor. Few years back, her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help out."

John was asking before he could stop himself, "Sorry – you stopped her husband being executed?"

Sherlock replied, in voice only, immediately, "Oh no, I ensured it."

He then turned up the stairs to the room he assumed was to be their flat. He was continually astonished by this odd person in front of him. He had done a little research last night and had discovered that this figure was a consulting detective, the only in the world, and was a genius. He was constantly being pulled in by Scotland Yard and was more often than not, the reason many cases got solved as fast as they did.

At the stairs was an elderly woman. She had a petite figure and looked to be about 60 or so. Sherlock and this lady started chatting. John, only able to see half the conversation, wasn't paying attention. He was back in his daydreams. This man was signing like a pro. He had signed a relativity complex sentence without staggering once. Sherlock must be as ingenious as all the articles he had read had stated. He found himself wondering if there could possibly be a life with this man as a flat mate. Perhaps John wouldn't have to settle for someplace else. Maybe he could live with Sherlock and… and do what? He had no idea what was going to come next, but, strangely, he didn't feel bothered by that. He was again jolted out his daydreams (he seemed to be doing that a lot since yesterday) by the petite woman giving John a sudden hug.

Sherlock looked to John and said, as well as signed, "Mrs. Hudson, Doctor John Watson."

Mrs. Hudson gave John a warm smile in friendly greeting. John returned the smile with a gentle bow and replied to the non-verbal, "hello" with a friendly, "How do?"

She seemed satisfied with John as she gestured up the steps, "Come in dears. Let's take a look at that flat."

She had turned away, so John hadn't read her lips, but Sherlock, that fantastic, mysterious man, had interpreted. They headed up the steps to the room that was supposed to be their apartment. As he went in he saw that there was still a rather large collection of belongings. It looked like the person to have previously been here hadn't even started to pack yet. John looked around and said, "Well, this could be very nice, very nice indeed."

Sherlock nodded and turned back to John, "Yes. Yes, I think so. My thoughts precisely. So I went straight ahead and moved in."

John looked around. So, this was what Sherlock was like. He had mountains of books, there was a chemistry set on the kitchen table, and there was a skull on the mantel. He turned to Sherlock and signed silently, "Is that a skull?"

John was testing this man's vocabulary. It appeared that Sherlock in fact didn't know that when John tap the top half of his head and then tap his jaw, that he was saying skull. Sherlock looked confused. John repeated the action and mouthed, "Skull."

The detective eyes lighted up as he registered what John was saying. "That's a friend of mine." He said, "Well, I say friend…" Sherlock's eyes suddenly became very dark, if only for a single moment. John was a bit taken aback. That small moment of darkness in those crystal blue eyes had made John's heart flutter. He wanted to reach out and comfort the tall man in front of him. He wanted to make sure that Sherlock knew he had a friend now. Wait, were they friends? They were getting a flat together. Did that make you friends? Did Sherlock want a friend? Was all of this just to pay for a flat? Great, now this man was messing with John's head.

He rejoined the world again after his brief relapse into his thoughts. Sherlock was trying to get his attention. He finally saw that he was gesturing that Mrs. Hudson had said something. John turned to Mrs. Hudson. She repeated, "There's another bedroom upstairs if you'll be needing two bedrooms."

John felt like someone had just struck him. He had met this man yesterday, "Of course we will be needing two." Did they really look like a couple? Wait, did that mean that Sherlock was… was he… gay? Mrs. Hudson was an old friend of Sherlock's. Maybe she was trying to tell him that his new flat mate truly was a homosexual, which was fine. It was all fine. That had always been John's policy.

Mrs. Hudson looked at John as if he was a sad puppy. "Oh, don't worry; there's all sorts round here. Mrs. Turner next door's got married ones." So, Mrs. Hudson truly did think they were a couple. Well, that was peachy. He had known this man for less than 24 hours and they were already speculated to be together. This would be fun…


A/N: Again, kind of a short chapter. I just wanted to get the ball rolling a little bit. I will try and make sure that my next chapter is a bit longer. It will probably be out next Wednesday, that is, if I don't decided to post sooner.

Have anything you want to say? Questions? Comments? Snide Remarks? It's all fine. Leave me a review to let me know.

~Ciao for now, DeafLord28