Disclaimer: You may have figured this out already for yourselves but I own nothing of "Sherlock", much as I wish I did. I'd certainly love to be the one in charge of beautiful Benedict's lines...


Foundations

Miss Watson

Sherlock did not move from his position sprawled across the sofa even as Mrs Hudson attempted to settle their new guest in a chair. His eyes were fixed on the young Miss Harriet Watson as he tried to gather all the details he could on her before she sat down. One couldn't gain a new flatmate if you didn't know first whether they were a spy for your brother, or wanted to kill you. The first possibility was perhaps the most terrifying.

Harry Watson was small and this was definitely not helped by the way she stooped a little, giving the impression that she liked to stick to the shadows and be less of the centre of attention - possibly because of some flaw in her character. Her clothes were all fairly normal: black skinny jeans and a t-shirt of the same colour with a silver design on it. She must have brought an umbrella for the rain outside and some kind of jacket with her and left them downstairs as there was no way a girl of that size would survive a rainstorm without catching hypothermia by simply stepping outside.

There was a smile firmly settled on her face as she settled herself in one of the two armchairs, allowing her gaze to shift to Sherlock. He knew that she could feel him analysing her but didn't stop. The only thing that could stop him was if she decided to leave, or to slap him which had happened a fair few times in the past. University had certainly been interesting; people didn't really want their affairs out in the open. Sherlock found himself oddly missing those days… now everyone was boring.

And yet, there was something about this woman that drew Sherlock's attention. The smile she wore bore harshness to it, like it was plastered on like the lipstick Mrs Hudson had decided against. There was no real happiness in it. Sherlock knew that as he would often have to make one of these smiles himself when on a case. It was the slight frown lines on Harry's forehead that let him know the sheer pressure it was taking to keep this smile up.

Harry's hair was fairly uninteresting: short, blonde and choppy in style. It was the modern woman's haircut and fairly easy to maintain, meaning she'd either cut it so because she had no-one to impress or she'd cut it so she wouldn't have to bother so much to impress them. Sherlock moved his eyes downwards to the woman's hands where she was now twisting a ring around her finger. It was an engagement ring, still shining and yet the skin around it was rubbed raw. A failed relationship then.

Suddenly, Sherlock realised that all the attention in the room was on him and Mrs Hudson was frowning at him. Harry had just given her name; it would appear that in civil conversation it would be right to say his own. But he didn't have enough information on her yet. Who exactly had she failed in a relationship with?

Mrs Hudson coughed, and whispered a slight "Sherlock!" under her breath.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and pushed his hair out of his face. Both women looked at him expectantly. "My name is Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes."

His tone came out a little more bored-sounding than he had expected it and Mrs Hudson's eyes narrowed a little but somehow this seemed to actually brighten Harry's mood. She smiled a little more. "Sherlock, I don't think I've ever heard of anyone called that before. It sounds… old?"

He watched her carefully. "My parents have a fascination with interesting names. My brother is called Mycroft."

There was no flicker of knowledge in those eyes, only a slight amusement. She couldn't be a spy then. Unless she'd been trained extremely well. Sherlock dismissed this thought. His brother wouldn't bother training up some weak girl to spy on him; even he had better things to do. "Sherlock and Mycroft – they certainly chose interesting names anyway," she commented, clearly not taking into account his slightly harsh tone.

Mrs Hudson, however, had noticed the intense stare that Sherlock was still giving her and piped up offering the tea around. Harry took it with milk but no sugar. Interesting. Sherlock did too. It seemed they might make good flatmates after all.

"What made you interested in the flat then, Miss Watson?" Mrs Hudson began, smiling cheerfully as she took a sip of her tea.

It would appear she'd thought no-one would ever apply to share a flat with Sherlock. He himself had been fairly surprised when she did. But then again Miss "watson3" was full of surprises… she'd managed to fool him into thinking she was a man after all.

"Oh, I dunno," Harry replied, showing a slight glimpse of her more middle class upbringing than Sherlock himself.

Sherlock recorded this detail for later. "I've always wanted to live in central London… and I had a bit of trouble with my previous flat. The landlord unfairly removed a few of his tenants. And, well, I got the lucky straw."

The concern in Mrs Hudson's eyes was genuine, but Sherlock's were still focused and ice-cold on Harry. There was something the woman wasn't saying. Why would a landlord just kick out his tenants? That's a waste of good rent. She must have done something… but what?

"I think you'll find me a good landlady," Mrs Hudson chuckled to herself. "If I put up with this one then I certainly must be."

Mrs Hudson turned her eyes to Sherlock for a moment and he rolled his at hers. Boring Mrs Hudson… did she really have to make the conversation so dull?

"I hope you don't mind my saying," Harry began. "But does all this furniture come with the flat? It seems rather over-crowded…"

Sherlock grinned. "As you applied to look at the flat in such a mysterious way I assumed you would probably be desperate for somewhere to stay… as it stands it would appear that you are indeed desperate for somewhere to stay after being kicked out of your flat by your landlord for causing trouble for the other tenants. I took the initiative to move myself in already. There's plenty of room left in the back."

Harry raised her eyebrows and sat back a little in her chair. "I'm sure Sherlock didn't mean that-"

She looked at Mrs Hudson, "I'm pretty sure he did. But I don't mind. Yes, I am rather desperate for somewhere to stay. I can still look elsewhere though."

"Shut your mouth, Mrs Hudson, you look rather like a goldfish," Sherlock snapped as his landlady gasped at the younger woman's comment. "You and I both know, Miss Watson, no-one will take you in with the foul reference given by your last landlord. In fact, you would be surprised if we took you on… but Mrs Hudson and I are rather different. I am looking for a flatmate who will pay their rent and will not mind my playing the violin in the early hours of the morning – it helps me think. I live for the work so you must not disturb me… but other than this I think you'd find me a perfect flatmate."

Mrs Hudson almost giggled to herself. Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her. He knew that his past dealings with people of normal intelligence had usually ended foully but did she really have to curse this from the start?

The blonde met his eyes. "I'll have to think about it. What are the terms?"

Sherlock let Mrs Hudson explain the rent and when it was due to Harry as he turned over on the sofa to face the wall and his skull. Harry Watson certainly seemed interesting. She had a secret. And where there were secrets… Sherlock had to find them.

Soon, Harry was being shooed from the house politely by Mrs Hudson because the rain had finally stopped and the woman wanted to give Sherlock a talking to. He sighed, now holding the skull. It stared back at him. For some reason he didn't even feel like talking to his friend. It just seemed dull.

"Sherlock, I think this one might actually stay… there's no need to be rude about it," Mrs Hudson said as she walked into the room, shutting the door behind her.
She immediately started bustling about collecting all the cups and piling them back onto the tray.

"Did you hear me, Sherlock?" she called over her shoulder.

He rolled over to face her. "Yes."

"Could you try a little with this one? Miss Watson seems very nice and she didn't even seem too disturbed by… your disarray."

She was clearly referring to his position on the sofa and the general state of disorder the room was in. "Maybe you could clear this up before our next viewing?"

"There won't be a next viewing, Mrs Hudson. Harry Watson is going to take up our offer in approximately three hours. That's how long it will take her to realise that she truly does need somewhere to stay… and that she is in fact intrigued by me."

Mrs Hudson chuckled a little to herself. "Ever the modest man, Sherlock."

This was when the door sprung open downstairs and there was the thud of footsteps rushing up the stairs. "Sherlock!"

Lestrade burst through the door, out of breath but still able to speak. Sherlock didn't need him to. There'd been another one.


So there we go, the first main chapter of Foundations for you! Apologies that it's a little bit of a slow-starter but I thought it was best to ground Harry before heading onto the main plotline. I have a lovely promise for you: John is in the next chapter! As is a lot more Lestrade, because I've got to admit I love Lestrade he's really cool. Sorry for being a little slow on updating as well, I've had some English coursework to work on but that is finished now so the next chapter should be around soon as I have already started work on it (I'm on a writing buzz as my main plot is fairly exciting for me!)

And let me just give a massive thank you to: milkyourpigs and Purplepacker for favouriting and following, Ninetailedvixen1 and My sisters randomness im wierd for favouriting, and nannily, al-dena, and mixed array for following! As well as permanentlybaffled's awesome review!
You guys have given me massive encouragement to carry on and I'm really grateful for the favourites and follows and review! To anyone who's reading, it's wonderful to receive a review as it really helps to improve my writing so again I say read and review if you can. Thanks everyone and I'll see you for the next one soon (probably on Wednesday - or beforehand :o )