AUTHOR'S THIRD NOTE

And I'm back with chapter two, if just temporarily. I have only ten days left until my master's thesis is due and I'm panicking. Anyway, I managed to do the final read-through on this chapter so I'm posting it! Thank you for the reactions on the previous chapter. Again, the same guidelines are still legit about this chapter. Interpret it as you like.

Enjoy!

Chapter two

VICTOR TREVOR

"What is it, mate?" Mike asked in the other end of the line. He must have heard my quiet laugh of disbelief as I watched Sherlock and the stranger release each other. The blonde man seemingly went on to introduce the woman beside him after that and my friend greeted her politely with another handshake.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Can I call you back? Need to know what's going on here."

"Oh, of course." Mike chuckled. "What're you up to this time?"

"I'm not quite sure actually."

"Well, you let me know later!"

"Hah, I will! Take care."

I hung up and my focus shifted right away to Sherlock and the unknown couple, now talking to each other in what definitely seemed to be a relaxed and friendly manner.

I raised my eyebrows. With the only exception being Mrs Hudson on some occasions, I couldn't remember seeing Sherlock interact with another human being in the way he now did. When he met someone new, he rarely saw that person as anything else than an object for him to study. With that said, it was still true that he could, against what most people thought, actually be quite polite and very charming at times. This was different however. In this man's company he seemed to be entirely comfortable and the man's reaction to Sherlock made it clear that they had definitely met before.

Who could this bloke be? A relative? No, Sherlock didn't give much for relatives, judging by his attitude towards his brother. More likely an acquaintance then. Maybe a client from an old case? It seemed possible but I remembered quickly that it was still Sherlock I was taking about. Would he really act in this way if it was, thinking about how I had seen him act towards other clients? No, again it seemed too far-fetched. That left few options. Could it then really be something as rare as an actual friend? In fact, could it perhaps be something more than a friend?

I gave up further attempts at deducing. My curiosity took the upper hand and I went to action instead. Tugging my phone swiftly back into my pocket, I walked over to the place where I was most likely to get some answers.

The three of them stopped talking when they noticed me approaching and my plan to make a discreet entrance quickly failed.

"Long phone call." I explained the obvious fact to them and shook my head before directing my attention to the unknown couple. "Sorry, we haven't met before, am I right?"

Sherlock suppressed a laugh, obviously seeing through my forced attempt at trying to sound casual. He introduced me however with a genuine smile.

"Victor, this is my friend and flatmate, Dr John Watson."

The blonde man smiled back at me with enthusiasm and grasped my hand eagerly.

"Victor Trevor. It's great to meet you!" he said happily while shaking it. "Then the blog must be yours?"

"Well, you can say that." I answered and shrugged my shoulders, although I must admit that I was as content as ever with the recognition. Behind me I could almost feel how Sherlock rolled his eyes violently in the background.

"Mei heard about it on the news some months ago so we looked it up and we've been trying to follow it ever since." Victor continued as I greeted the woman.

"It was the only thing he'd talk about for almost a month." she laughed. "You two don't exactly seem to be having a mundane time."

"Well, believe me, that never suited him." Victor assured and pointed at Sherlock. "That much genius should be used for great things. I'm glad you finally get some proper attention for what you can do. It's about time. You deserve it."

My friend chuckled deeply in response but I saw in his eyes that he was quite glad, perhaps even a bit moved by Victor's words. If it was something I had learned about Sherlock since the day I met him, it was that, whatever he might say, he truly liked it when people recognised and were sincerely amazed by how utterly brilliant he was. In that way he was as receptive to flattery for his genius as shallow teenagers were for comments about their looks.

Our conversation was interrupted not long after by another phone ringing out loudly. Mei sighed, made an apologetic face and excused herself. She strode away a few yards with the phone pressed to her ear, speaking rapidly in Chinese.

"My wife is the true genius of us." Victor explained with evident appreciation. "She's the one running the company and handling the paperwork. I just have some good ideas for products once in a while which we find worth selling."

"How do you know each other then?" I asked, pointing between the two men and crossing my arms. "Through a case, or?"

"Oh, no, no. I was in the same year as Sherlock at uni. You can imagine the performance anxiety I had! Quite some time ago now."

"Eight years." Sherlock said.

"God, yeah, it is! The years run away too quickly, don't they? Feels like it was yesterday I watched you absolutely dissect Damian in front of Amanda. Hah, God, I laughed too much."

My friend closed his eyes and snickered, probably remembering the event which his former classmate was talking about.

"Damian was one of the economy students and he was cheating on his girlfriend with Leslie Peterson in our class." Victor explained to me. "Sherlock figured it out through the wrinkles on his shirt and the brand of his hair gel. Oh, the look on that smug lad's face when he was taken down in front of everyone! It was almost a bit too satisfying. You should've seen it, John."

"Discombobulated." Sherlock smirked.

"I think I can imagine."

Before myself I saw the astounded, surprised but definitely most times absolutely furious looks in the faces of the people I had watched Sherlock deduce. My reaction, whether it was me or someone else being deduced, was most times a complex mixture of amazement, amusement and anguish.

"You're staying in England for another week." Sherlock said to Victor, clearly more as a statement rather than a question. Victor noticed this as well. He laughed and nodded in response.

"Ah, yes. Figured the company could survive just a few more days without us. We'll actually go up to Norfork tomorrow morning. Will probably stop by the old man's grave. I feel like it needs to be done, even though I already know that I won't like it."

It wasn't difficult to notice how the cheerful tone in the man's voice almost disappeared completely, together with the brightness in his eyes, when he said this last sentence.

"Your father was a good man." my friend said. With a little bit of imagination, his words could even be interpreted as sympathy.

The other man sighed and closed his eyes.

"Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't. Maybe it doesn't matter. He was still my dad."

Victor Trevor fell quiet. For a moment it seemed like his thoughts drifted away. Maybe they actually did, to another place and another time. I glanced at Sherlock for some sort of explanation but he simply looked at Victor, his gaze firm but unreadable to me. I didn't have to be him however to understand that the lack of words meant that he of course knew a great deal about the matter with Victor's father. That fuelled my curiosity even more.

"Well, if you have time, come by Baker Street." I suggested and broke the strange mood that the previous conversation had created.

"Oh, would love to but we have such a tight schedule." Victor answered merrily, now back to his radiant ways.

Sherlock glanced the man over with a quick look, one of those which were barely noticeable if you didn't know how to look for it. He nodded.

"Clearly you have. Don't bother with the Fish'n Chips place by Piccadilly Circus. They're about to change owner. Embezzlement, and of course an occasional murder to cover it up. Fingernails gave him away."

"You're kidding!" Victor exclaimed and threw his hands into the air. "Well, I wouldn't be surprised. Nothing is ever what it seems like apparently. Bloody hell, I was looking forward to that."

"There's another place down on Shaftesbury Avenue, next to the comic book store." my friend continued. "Say my name and they'll give you the food for free. They owe me a favour. Well, in fact, they owe me at least three."

Sherlock began to smile again when Victor grinned and shook his head.

"Probably shouldn't ask about that one then."

"Yeah, don't." I agreed eagerly. With that, I suppressed the "adventure" of the blue codfish into the deepest abysses of my mind again. It was just another reminder that I would probably never get the memory of the stench of rotten fish out of my head. I had chosen to leave that case out of the blog for a reason, as I didn't want to take up my therapy sessions again.

We were interrupted once more by another piercing ringtone, this time again from my own phone. I sighed, wondered if timing had abandoned me completely today and picked up the device from my pocket.

"You're a busy man." Victor said.

"No, that's not it." I muttered while fumbling with the screen which displayed Mrs Hudson's number. "They just find it easier calling me than calling him."

I answered the call and took my leave from the two other men, walking off to where I had come from before. On the phone our landlady began to explain very firmly that she could live with that we kept body parts in our fridge but that we could not use her fridge for the same purpose. As she continued to explain that brain substance had leaked down onto the fruit cake which she had made for Mrs Turner, (an excuse for Sherlock's last inconvenient 'ballistics experiment') I gazed back at Sherlock and Victor. They were now talking again and both of them seemed absorbed by the conversation. My friend smiled and Victor laughed and the whole time I wished I could figure out what they were talking about. It wasn't long however until the man saw his wife wave in his direction and he glanced at his watch. They were probably already late in their tight schedule for the day.

Victor gazed back at Sherlock again but he didn't seem to say anything more. That was until he finally took a step forward and placed a hand on my friend's shoulder. I couldn't see Sherlock's reaction but Victor clearly said something further to him, which I irritatingly enough couldn't hear or read from his lips this time either. Victor did however look genuinely happy. He looked... well, grateful, and even quite affectionate if I wasn't completely mistaken.

"John? Are you still there?"

That was when I realised that it was a while ago since I had stopped listening to what Mrs Hudson was saying.

AUTHOR'S FOURTH NOTE

Oh, who is Victor Trevor and what happened during Sherlock's university years? We'll learn more about him in the following chapters. I must say though that I love my version of Victor. I do wish they could have made him a grownup in the actual show. It had a lot of potential I think. Please, comment, follow & favourite!