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Chapter 3

"Sherlock!" John yelled, "Wait here," he said to Merlin.

"Oh! You're back. I wanted to apologize…. And you brought home a stranger. Who is this?" Sherlock asked.

"Hat Man! It is great to meet you. My name is Merlin," He introduced himself.

Sherlock showed no shock to Merlin's name. "What an unusual name. John can I talk to you for a moment? In private?"

"Sherlock if you are wondering if I forgave you, yes I did. I even bought you a coffee, just like you like it. Oh and before I forget, I hid your violin in Mrs. Hudson's kitchen,"

"Don't worry John I already found it. Based on your comment about breakfast, you would subconsciously put it in the kitchen, I knew you hid it because Mrs. Hudson told me you went out-" John cut his off before he could finish, "You don't need to explain, just tell me you didn't bother Mrs. Hudson,"

"She likes my violin playing," Sherlock sounded offended, "You don't?"

"Of course I like it, it just gets annoying,"

Merlin cleared his throat to remind them that he was still there. John and Sherlock turned their heads to look at Merlin, and John blushed. "Of course, yes come in," John told him, "Uh- um, I'll just talk to Sherlock real quick," He itched his head, balancing two coffees in one hand, "Yeah, we'll see you in a bit," They left Merlin standing by the front door while they excused themselves to talk in the Mrs. Hudson's kitchen.

"I don't trust him," Sherlock stated immediately.

"Shhh! Keep your voice down. He'll here you," John whispered.

"So?"

John just sighed instead of explaining it to Sherlock.

"Why don't you trust him?" John handed Sherlock his coffee.

"His eyes are… different. I've never seen anything like it before. Well I have but on old people close to death. But he is obviously in his early twenties. It's like the light so going out when I observe it on the elderly, but this 'Merlin' his are dying and being reborn at the same time," Sherlock said.

"How can you see that in someone's eyes but you don't understand how to be polite?"

"And the name, I remember the name from the stories mummy used to tell me. I think I deleted the title, but the name stuck with me," Sherlock pretended to not hear John's comment.

"The Arthurian Legends? I wouldn't call them tales to tell a child," John rethought what he said, "But then again you are Sherlock, I'm sure you were reading full length novels by the time you were six,"

Sherlock scoffed, "Please John, I was three," he corrected.

"Really?" John asked. Sherlock nodded. John took a sip of his coffee and then sat it down on the counter. He crossed his arms, "He's looking for Arthur Pendragon," He rubbed his finger under his nose. "I though you would enjoy this case, you know weird name and circumstances. It's not a serial killer case, but it's the best we have. You refuse to take the civil dispute cases because they're 'too boring'. It's either this or you wait for an interesting murder," John continued.

"Fine,"

" 'Fine' what?"

"I'll take the case,"

"Good,"

"Great, now I do believe we've kept 'Merlin' alone for too long,'

"For god's sake, he's not going to do anything!"

"You don't know that,"

"I can tell when someone is a good person or not, and he seems to be a nice kid, I mean just look at him," They both turned to see Merlin admiring one of Mrs. Hudson's vases. When he touched it and it fell off its stand, he grimaced, attempted to catch it, and failed. With his shoe he swept the broken pieces behind the stand and hoped that no one heard it fall. He rubbed the back of his neck and chose to wait somewhere else.

"Hmm you're right; he's pitiful," Sherlock said.

"That's not what I meant! I'm just saying that he couldn't hurt a fly,"

"He certainly hurt that vase," John looked at Sherlock and they both laughed.

"Alright, let's see him and keep him from breaking anymore of Mrs. Hudson's family heirlooms,"

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