Ready for a bit of a shift? Me too XD
~0~0~0~
"I just don't understand how you knew I had the flat, dear." Mrs Hudson opened the door to her basement flat, letting the brunette woman in. She was dressed casually in jeans and a white shirt, her shoulder-length blonde hair pulled up into a messy ponytail and there was a pair of glasses perched on her nose, "It's not even up for rent. The damp's just too expensive to fix."
"I have a friend who told me you had a spare apartment." The woman replied, pulling her small suitcase in behind her, "I have a bit of money, but I need somewhere cheap until I find a new job. This seemed perfect whilst still being in London." Mrs Hudson flicked on the light switch, illuminating the reasonable sized room in a yellow glow. There was a window on one of the walls, but it was small and at the top by the ceiling so it didn't really add much natural lighting to the room. There was no furniture, but a small kitchenette was lying one side with an outdated fridge-freezer and a cooker.
"Bedroom's just though there. It has a shower room on the other side." The woman nodded, walking over to the door Mrs Hudson indicated to and opening it to reveal a small but usable room with another door leading to the shower room.
"It's perfect." She stated, turning to face Mrs Hudson, "Here's what I'm proposing. The damp is quite a problem, so I will pay to have it fixed, but in return I won't pay rent for three months."
"Oh, I don't know." Mrs Hudson said, flustered by the sudden talk of the woman moving in.
"This is just dead space, you aren't making any money off it. This way you don't have the expense of treating the damp and then you'll be getting a return." Mrs Hudson nodded slowly, she made a good point.
"Okay, dear." She paused for a moment, "But what about furniture? I'm afraid the damp destroyed everything else I had in here."
"Don't worry about that, Mrs Hudson. I have my own belongings, they'll fit in here nicely." She pulled out her mobile, switching the internet on, "I shall hire a tradesman to come have a look at the damage to the walls. I'll move in today, the removal van will be here shortly with the rest of my stuff." She glanced up at Mrs Hudson and smirked slightly at the surprised look on her face, "My friend informed me I was pretty much guaranteed the flat. Don't worry, he's not evil, he's just a pompous arse." Mrs Hudson, overwhelmed by the fact she suddenly had another tenant, just turned to leave before pausing.
"What did you say your name was, dear?" She asked.
"Oh, I didn't." She woman replied, "It's Faye. Faye Newbarns." She turned back to the phone, ignoring the older woman as she left the flat. Mrs Hudson climbed up the stairs, pausing on the ground floor to look up at 221B, the flat above her own. Oh, what was Sherlock make of this?
~0~0~0~
"Absolutely not." Sherlock snapped about, flopping into his armchair in a huff. John Watson rolled his eyes at the impending temper tantrum he could sense coming from his friend and flatmate.
"Why not?" He asked in reply as Mrs Hudson gasped at the complete refusal from Sherlock, "It's Mrs Hudson's building, if she wants to rent out the basement that's up to her. It's the poor sod's fault for wanting to live in that damp hell."
"She said she's going to fix it up for me." Mrs Hudson told John, not addressing Sherlock while he was in one of his moods, "Instead of paying rent for the time being. It seemed like a good arrangement." John nodded.
"It does. What's her name?"
"It doesn't matter what her name is." Sherlock snapped, "She can't move in. I need that basement."
"For what, exactly?" John asked, exasperated.
"You said I wasn't allowed to bring home dead animals anymore, now where am I supposed to test out the different methods of mutilation?"
"Oh Sherlock!" Mrs Hudson exclaimed, distraught, "I thought that was wine!"
"You thought wrong." Sherlock barked in reply, "No one is staying the in basement!" He stood up and stalked to his room. John watched him leave, trying to mask his amusement. How old was he supposed to be, again?
"Her name is Faye Newbarns." Mrs Hudson informed John as Sherlock slammed the door closed, "She seemed pretty efficient, one of them high-flying office types. Had already booked the moving men to drop her stuff off today, they were here about a hour ago." John blinked, surprised.
"What? She already assumed she'd be moving in?" Mrs Hudson nodded.
"She said it was guaranteed she'd get the flat." She explained. John glanced back at the door to Sherlock's bedroom.
"Well, she seems to fit in with the rest of your lodgers." He pointed out.
~0~0~0~
Sherlock laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling as he fumed silently. This was totally unacceptable. There was no way some woman was coming in and ruining his carefully managed equilibrium. He could barely handle John and Mrs Hudson, who were admittedly quite useful for mild entertainment and their attempt to help him when he was bored. Failing miserably most of the time, but nevertheless it was enough of an attempt for him. He didn't want some brain-dead imbecile trying to live underneath their home, what if she tried to interfere in his life? Wanting to be 'friends', inviting herself over? What if John tried to copulate with her, and they'd have a lifetime of awkward meetings ahead of them? What if she interfered in his cases?! He shot up, alarmed. Well, she would have to go. He jumped off the bed and stormed out of his room, striding past Mrs Hudson and a protesting John and down the two flights of stairs, banging on the door of 221C. The door opened, revealing a confused looking woman and he pushed past her, standing in the middle of the flat.
"Get out." He snapped and she blinked at him, shutting the door and heading over to her sofa. Faye had practically unpacked most of her things, she'd been trying to get her Freeview working but the signal was pretty rubbish. She'd have to get a new dish installed on the side of the building.
"Or, hello, as people used to say." She muttered sarcastically, flopping down and picking up her remote, going back to what she was doing, "221B, I'm guessing?" She asked, watching the box search yet again for BBC4.
"Yes, Sherlock Holmes. I'm guessing you've heard of me." He replied and she shrugged.
"I suppose." She muttered, "Faye Newbarns. Can I help you, Mr Holmes? I'm kind of busy moving in."
"Then you're wasting your time. This basement is not for rent, you have to leave."
"Why? Are you currently living in it?" She asked.
"No, but..."
"Oh, do you own it?" She interrupted.
"Obviously not." He snapped in reply.
"Do you have a previous rental agreement with Mrs Hudson over this flat." He sighed angrily.
"No, I don't." He barked.
"You don't live here, own it nor have a rental agreement for the flat?" She repeated, "Then I fail to see why I have to leave, Mr Holmes."
"I use this for... storage." He settled on, not wanting her to have any knowledge of anything he did in his everyday life. She was already infuriating him more and more, she was barely looking at him, "So you have to leave."
"Storage? I suggest you rent a storage unit, Mr Holmes." She shifted on the sofa, turning even more away from him, taking out her phone to check for troubleshooting guides, Sherlock decided after noticing her television wasn't working, "If you'll excuse me, I have better things to do than deal with a grown man's temper tantrum." He pointed to the door.
"Get out!" He shouted angrily. She looked up, slightly surprised by the volume of his voice then smiled.
"Okay." She stated simply and he deflated, shocked by her quick turnaround, "Make me."
"Make you?" He repeated slowly, bemused by her attitude.
"Yes. You want me out so much, make me." She challenged, "But you'll have to take all my furniture out, because I'm not doing it."
"I..." His own phone rang before he could give her his own retort and he answered it quickly, "What?" He snapped.
"I believe you're having a hissy fit at your new neighbour?" Mycroft's voice came calmly from the other side of the call.
"Oh, what do you want?" Sherlock snapped, the mere voice of his brother riling him up even more.
"Do I have to call mother?" Mycroft asked him, "I believe she's due for a visit."
"How did you know I had a new neighbour? Been watching me again?" Sherlock asked, ignoring the threat of his parents visiting.
"I have my sources." Mycroft replied, "Do play nice."
"Play nice?" Sherlock raged. How dare his brother talk to him like he was still a child? He frowned suddenly, "'Sources'?" He repeated before hanging up, "John!" He screamed, tearing out of the basement and leaving Faye staring at him, thoroughly amused by his stange behaviour.
"What a peculiar man." She stated to herself simply before going back to her television.
~0~0~0~
Sherlock stormed back into his own apartment, glaring at John, who jumped at being caught with Mrs Hudson listening to him shouting downstairs.
"You ratted me out to my brother?!" Sherlock exclaimed, "Grow up!" He stormed into his room, slamming the door shut again. John's mouth dropped slightly.
"I didn't call your brother!" He shouted in reply. Why would he ever willingly talk to Mycroft Holmes?
"Well," Mrs Hudson started after they stood in silence for a moment, "How about I pop on the kettle and you can come meet Miss Newbarns?" John nodded, shooting the older woman a kind smile.
"I'd like that, thank you Mrs Hudson." He said, almost apologising for Sherlock's behaviour. He didn't need to, Mrs Hudson was more than used to his infantile behaviour at the worst of times, but still, she didn't need him stalking around.