Edit: Thanks to a reader, Sendai, I have fixed a single error. If any of you see any mistakes, please tell me. :)

Hello again. I'm sorry for the short chapter ugh. I was trying to make it long, but normally my first two chapters of anything are fillers for plot and story. The third chapter, on the other hand, will be long. I aim for at least five-thousand words with that one considering I get to write about a murder in all its gruesome glory. I love writing murders and enjoy thinking of planning one, but no, I don't plan to commit one. For now, fantasies and scenarios will have to work.

Now, this one is a filler, not much happening, but it will get more interesting. I hope you recognize some of the quotes in this chapter since they are from the actual show with slight, slight changes.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock whatsoever.


I felt my eyebrows furrow as I watched John from across the table. He had his head low, almost like he was ashamed and trying to hide his face, and tried to eat as quietly as possible. Every little movement of his was silent as the light snow falling outside. Little contact was made with anybody, except the occasional glance at myself. He was trying to not gather attention due to the fact that he was a "low-life" talking to a man like me. How typical; sad, but typical. Nobody really cares here who is with whom considering that I aided one of the owners in this place. John really has no fear for anything, at least as long as I'm around, though I doubt he will take the advice from a man whom partially abducted him for brunch out of mere curiosity for his personality.

Speaking of curiosity...

"John," He jumped up and looked at me with wide eyes before closing them and opening them with light weariness, "You don't have to hide your face here. The people here don't necessarily care about the company much as they care about the appetite they have in the first place. Stop worrying about such trivial, boring things."

Really John. Worry and sadness are quite melancholy feelings that shouldn't be felt for more than a few hours. It's not good for your health, he should know, he's a doctor.

John looked back and me and smiled a little ashamed, "Yeah, sorry. I just feel a bit self-conscious right about now."

I nod, "Understandable. You are wearing old, torn up clothing and your complexion is quite filthy, so I can see your point," he was about to argue before I continued, "but, as I said earlier, nobody here cares about that. As far as they are concerned, your just another... colleague of Sherlock Holmes."

He huffed, "My clothes are perfectly fine," he grumbled and I raised a brow, "Okay, they are decent," I turned my face away in mock disdain, "Fine, they are in bad condition, but I don't have the money, nor the convenience, to go shopping for some high-class clothes such as yours. These clothes still fit me and as long as I occasionally sew up the ripped up parts, they are perfectly fine for another two weeks."

I give him a look of pity before wiping it from my face. Judging from his sagging shoulders and darkened face, he probably doesn't want any sympathy or pity at the time, especially my own. He is probably relishing the horrible memories as to why he had to resort to such methods. Ah, memories. It must be horrible sighting something and immediately having a flashback to the war zone. Guns in play, eyes peeled for the smallest of movements. He looked like he was having one of those moments judging by how he flinched at my experimental drop of the pen in my hand. He looked at me and glared at the smile on my lips.

It was amusing to see his reactions, despite how unmoral it was. I'm practically testing his tangible PTSD by preforming this, but boredom is a real and valid issue at this time. He wasn't doing anything interesting and pulling out his guitar was out of the question with how skittish he was and the fact that he thought he would attract attention. Perhaps I should question something... normal. Wait, no, normal is boring. Well, so is breathing, but I suppose it wouldn't kill me. Maybe.

"John, do you have a phone per chance?"

Tilting his head, he nodded and took his out. It was old, not any of the newer, more recent versions I have seen. All the same it was an electronic cellular device of some sort so I didn't care as to its condition. I held out my hand but he didn't immediately move to place the small piece of technology in my awaiting palms, "Why do you want it?"

"I need to text someone, but I appear to have left my phone at home," I smiled apologetically.

He didn't fall for it like most do, but rolled his eyes nonetheless, "Fine. Just don't hack the bloody thing please. Like I said earlier-"

"You don't have the money to spend on electronics and decent clothing. Yes, yes I understand. May I please see the phone now?"

Shaking his head, John slapped the phone into my palm, watching me like a curious cat or animal of sorts. He was worried by how I would treat his phone no doubt. Please, I'm a high-functioning sociopath, but I'm not a rabid beast. I do have some dignity in me, actually, quite a bit in retrospect to the observing John Watson. He looked like he would take away the toy if I started preforming anything discreet. That's no fun. I wish he would at least joke or something to make this less boring.

"Well? Are you going to text whomever you must?" He questioned curiously, eying my stilled fingers. I grinned and immediately started placing my number into john's cell while observing the marks on the phone, "Ah, yes. Sorry, I blanked out for a bit." Not really, but that seems the normal response to give.

"Your phone – it's expensive, email enabled, MP3 player. But you're looking for a flat-share, you wouldn't waste money on this. It's a gift then. Scratches – not one, many over time. It's been in the same pocket as keys and coins. The man sitting next to me wouldn't treat his one luxury item like this, so it's had a previous owner. The next bit's easy, you know it already." I caught a faint glimpse inside the phone and sighed as I clicked the okay button to enter my number, "Well?"

He blinked, "The engraving?"

"Harry Watson, clearly a family member who's given you his old phone. Not your father, this is a young man's gadget. Could be a cousin, but you're a war hero who can't find a place to love. Unlikely you've got an extended family, certainly not one you're close to, so brother it is. Now Clara, who's Clara? Three kisses says romantic-"

"Wait," John shook his head to shake him from his stupor, "h-how did you-"

I sighed and glared at him, "Should I continue or do you not want to hear the rest?"

He smiled a little, "Why for you to show off? Sure why not."

"Anyways, as I was saying. The three kisses says a romantic attachment but since it's only 6 months old, marriage issues were stated clearly, yes? Nonetheless, he's giving it to you. Don't give me that look John. If she had left him, he would keep it as sentiment, something to remember her by but no, he's trying to get rid of it so he left her. He gave the phone to you to keep in touch."

"How do you keep so much breath in those lungs of yours?"

"Off-topic John. Why are you not going to your brother for help? Trying not to disappoint?"

He shrugged, "I don't want to be a bother, and yes, I'm already a disappointment. No, I'm not going to explain that any further to you. I don't even know you yet you seem to know everything about me as if it was on Wikipedia for everyone to see."

"No, your just a open book. Not as open as everyone else, but an open one nonetheless."

Sighing, he glared at me with curiosity, not anger, "How could you possibly know about the drinking?"

"Oh john, give me some credit here. It was more of a shot in the dark, but a good one, correct? The charger. The power connection is jammed and slightly scratched indicating forced entry and also a adjustment of the mind to not be able to place the charger in correctly. Scuff marks around the edges indicate that he had shaky hands. These marks are a drunks. Something a drunk man can't leave without and a sober man would never do."

"Amazing," he breathed. Huh, that's a first.

I shrugged and rose a eyebrow to see if my deductions were on the dot or not. More so the first than the latter.

A little bewildered, John smiled, "your correct. Although your off by one point."

My eyebrow rose. A mistake?

He smirked as he leaned over, one arm what on the table and the other propping his head up, "Harry is short for Harriet."

I froze and blinked before swearing to myself. John seemed to find this amusing and laughed. I pouted, unaccustomed to missing a fact about someone.

A hand patted my shoulder and I looked up to see it was John.

"It's okay, mate. Everybody makes mistakes."

"I don't," I grumbled sullenly.

"Oh shut up, you just did."

Ouch. Rubbing some salt in the wound, John.

"No I didn't. I just forgot something. It obviously just slipped my mind."

John rolled his eyes, "Whatever you say, mate, but you don't seem the type to forget such a detail as that if you know what I mean. But whatever floats your show-off boat."

I shrugged, "I have talents. I'm going to use them, John."

"No your going to throw them around. I don't normally say this, but you're a arrogant bloke to others. You know that's not a good way to make friends."

"I don't have nor do I need friends."

John blinked at my cold voice, not expecting it in the slightest. He thought I was going to feel pity or guilt for myself. Well, I'm sorry John to disappoint you, but friends are not necessary in my life. Besides, nobody ever lasts long enough to be considered more than somebody I knew for a day or so, you being one of them. Friends don't mean anything to me. I get bored, eccentric, and at times, completely irrational to some so I there is nobody who can fully be capable of controlling and conversing with a creature at that. I'm married to my work and friendships would only get in the way of it.

I saw him take a deep breath, "O...kay, then. Um... I'm sorry to hit a nerve?"

I nodded to him silently and looked out the window, occasionally glancing back at John for an observation.

He appeared to like the sunlight, even if it was clouded by the light snow. Each flurry attracted his gaze and every little movement made him dash his attention to the next object. He obviously still held some oversea genes in him by how he kept an eye on anything that moved. His hands were constantly in a fist, but would occasionally flatten out to indicate his relaxation. He was a skittish man, afraid to stay in one place for long considering how he was tapping his foot. Even though his face was rotated to look out the window, his body was turned towards the door as if he needed to think of a quick escape at any moment. He didn't seem to adapt well to London at all.

If that was the case, why did he come here at all?

"John," He turned towards me again but his body was still in a path to the door, "Your phone?"

He blinked and watched as I slid his phone across the little table, "Thank you for letting me use it." I gave one of my fake, but satisfactory smiles to him.

"Ah, yes. Your welcome." Not much of a talker, eh?

"If I may ask Dr. Watson, why did you come to London?"

He smirked, "I thought you could deduce that already from just looking at my, oh I don't know, nose or something? You've been spot on so far, except for my sister. What's stopping you now?"

I shrugged, "Curious of your side of the story. Humor me."

He turned his body and full attention to me, trying to figure me out. Sorry John, only one person can do that and luckily he isn't here.

"Why are you so curious of my nature and my oh so boring life, Mr. Holmes?"

"Sherlock," I corrected automatically, "and because your an open book with unfinished pages every other page of the story. It seems like every page of your book is cut in half so only half is revealed and the rest is hidden. I'm just piqued to hear the other side of the story, and to complete it."

"So you were bored?" He deadpanned and I shrugged before nodding.

"Yes, quite."

"And I just happen to be there for your little mind fingers to pick apart?"

I gave him a look, "mind fingers? Your vocabulary is rather surprising John since I expected something rather elaborate, but to answer your question, no. Your expression and the way you kept off from anybody attracted my attention. Mainly the thought that you were a doctor with the army, yet you have no money at all from serving with them. It's interesting really."

He looked away, a little on edge, "They had to let me go. That is all, nothing more."

I raised my eyebrow at him, "Don't lie to me John. I know there is more than what you say judging by how you can't look at me when you lie."

Glancing back at me, he sighed and deliberated what to say to me.

It was at that moment that I felt a vibration in my pocket. Performing my own little sigh, I opened up the text.

"Hey! I thought you forgot your phone!"

I smile mischievously, "I'm sorry John. I had to test to see how oblivious you were and I'm sad to say that you are more so than not."

Groaning a little, he sat down in the chair and leaned back all the way, arms crossed over his chest, "I swear. How do people deal with you on a day to day basis?"

I frowned, "They don't. I'm normally alone except for the occasional check-up from the land lady or a weekly murder case to solve."

"Murder cases?"

"Yes John, didn't you hear me? In fact, I have one here as well."

Lestrade
Triple Homicide, I'm sure you already know where.

I could feel the excitement enter my veins as the possibilities weld up in my mind.

"Sherlock?"

I looked up at John, who was eying my phone with curiously and then myself. He was already on his feet with his guitar case strapped to his back.

"Ah, yes, John?"

He was bouncing on both feet, feeling the need to go to somewhere safe in his standards no doubt.

"Does this conclude our.. brunch?"

I thought about it. I could say yes and have a goodbye returned to me in which I may never see the very interesting doctor again. Or, I could mention the murder and see if he could diagnose the body. Anderson doesn't appreciate my qualities like John and I can't stand Anderson at all. His IQ could send signals to lower everybody else. John, albeit a little dirty, could be a tad better. He seemed a little interested at least.

"Actually, I was curious."

He stopped, "Yes?"

"Would you be able to diagnose a body?"

"Yes?"

"A dead one?"

He paused and eyed me wearily.

"Really John. I'm not the murderer, please, and if I was, I wouldn't let anyone find the body. Now, would you be able to diagnose the time of death or how the said victim died? It's very crucial might I add."

He thought about it and nodded, "Yes, I should be able to diagnose the body based on symptoms and the overall rigor mortis of the body. Why do you ask?"

I smirked, "I believe I might have found you a new job Dr. Watson."

He eyed me suspiciously, "A new job?"

I rolled my eyes in retaliation, quite annoyed by how he missed the obvious, "As my assistant of course. Well, not necessarily an assistant per say, but you will follow me around and help me solve murder cases when it comes that I need your help. That wouldn't happen to often of course since nothing stumps me, but you can aid with the common diagnosis of the murders I suppose."

His mouth flattened into a thin line before pursing at my proposal, "And, what makes you think I will take this 'new job'?"

I smirked, "Where else have you to go, John?" He blinked at my response, "Come on, John. It's going to be very not boring I promise. Every murder brings more games to play and right now, the game is on to track down the murderer of this case."

Sighing, he just glared at me, "Fine. But where will I stay? As we have clearly made sure to acknowledge before, I have no money at all. Bloody broke in fact."

I gave him a look. Wasn't it not obvious? I guess not or he wouldn't have asked.

"I thought it was obvious to you, John. I mean, you are a doctor, correct? Shouldn't you be able to deduct simple things? You will stay at my place of course!"

He sputtered, "N-No! I couldn't possibly-"

"Of course you can. I have a spare room and I've been keeping a keen eye for someone to be my flat mate. I suppose you will do considering that you haven't fled the cafe due to my deductions yet."

The sudden proposal must have exhausted him. 'He reacts very openly' I observe silently as his muscles relax in defeat. I saw him lean onto his hand and rub the bridge of his nose. He looked frustrated, but worn out, "I still don't know anything about you though besides that you are quite the annoying little pest that most wouldn't enjoy having on them."

I chuckled a little, "All in due time John. Nonetheless, I want to make sure before we continue. You're a doctor. In fact, you're an army doctor."

He nodded, "Yes."

"Any good?"

He thought about it for a moment before nodding with a smirk of his own on his lips, "Very good."

I leaned on the table slightly, "Seen a lot of injuries then. Violent deaths." I wanted to test his wits, to see if death scared him. I couldn't possibly have a man frightened of a little blood in my flat, that would be utterly exhausting. Emotionally and physically with trying to calm the man down. Then again, if he was I would probably take back my offer on the spare room...

"Well, yes." It was like he was mocking me a little but I brushed it aside.

"Bit of trouble too I bet."

A soft chuckle, "Of course. Yes. Enough for a lifetime. Far too much."

Now I grinned, excitement peeling into my features, "Wanna see some more?"

He gave me a weird look and smiled despite himself, "Oh god yes."


Sorry, I know this chapter was probably terribly hard to read through. Trust me, I'm not a huge fan of slow chapters either, but the next one is a GUARANTEE interest picker-upper. Trust me. I know my murders quite well. Plenty of research and nightmares do that to you.

Oh, I know the fanfic may say JohnLock since it is going to be one EVENTUALLY. I'm a realistic guys. I know the duo won't fall head over heels in just ten chapters, that's like one of those rom coms. No, it will take quite a bit considering Sherlock and John's relationship. There will be obvious developments toward the ship, but not a 2 minute jump from just talking to sucking faces or something. =w="

Well, that's it! I hope to have the third chapter out within a few days at most. I can kinda shoot these out there every few days since school is boring, homework is boring, breathing is boring, but writing is interesting.

Ciao~ Review and criticize please~!