Never had she met anyone like him before, and now that very person was moving in right underneath her. She was pleasantly surprised. The question of what he had "read" raced through her brain. The answer to that was that he could tell she wasn't from London, or even England by the old dirt stains on her jeans. He was torn between Canada and the United States. He also saw that she had worked for the government from where she came. Her posture suggested some form of fieldwork and that she'd been wounded while on duty. Among his many observations was the fact that she worked at a hospital. An I.D. card was sticking out of her pocket. However, she wasn't a doctor, nurse, or desk worker. The card would not be in jeans then but in either scrubs or a suite. So she was most likely a therapist. He saw many other things as well, but the most important was that she was reading him, just as he was her. When they both realized that, their eyes locked. Then a smile crept across Sherlock's face and soon Corin was smiling too. Sherlock stuck out his hand in greeting.
"Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective." He said, still smiling.
Corin shook his hand firmly, and responded in her very American accent, "Corin Cassidy, Therapist."
"American!" Sherlock mumbled, "I should have known…" Just then, Corin's phone rang loud through the room with her Owl City ring tone. She looked at her phone. The little pixels read SCHRODER. "Excuse me for a minute, it's one of my patients. " She turned the corner to take the call. Unbeknownst to her, Sherlock listened on the other side.
"Hallo...Herr Schröder, was haben Sie getan…WAS? Sie tat, was?! Oh du dummkopf! Entschuldigen. Tut mir leid. Ich werde gleich da. Tschüs." She ended the call and looked up at the ceiling with an exasperated look on her face. She walked back in the room.
"Du sprichst Deutsch." Sherlock stated, still smiling.
"Oh, ja. I mean, oh yeah. I used many languages in my last job, so now I can work with some foreign patients."
"It was a government job?"
"Secret Service. Look, I've got to go. Mr. Schröder messed up big time. His daughter's unstable and he just flipped out on her. Now I've got to go talk her off a ledge. Have fun unpacking, and, welcome to Baker Street."
"Thanks." He murmured. Just before she walked out he said, "Corin, where's your band playing tonight?"
"He's good!" she thought. Corin turned around and smiled, "The Black Friar on Queen Victoria Street at 10:00. Why? Might I accidentally run into my new downstairs flat mate there?"
"It's a possibility…"
"I don't really care either way, but I've got to go."
Sherlock watched as she ran out the door. He smiled to himself and began unpacking his belongings. Welcome to Baker Street indeed!