Title: The Detective and the Artist
Summary: Sherlock has a secret. One that he has successfully kept from everyone in his life (including Mycroft). This secret just happens to stand 5'3 and works as an artist/bartender. But what happens when someone stumbles onto Sherlock's little secret?
Rating: Rated 'M' …cause you'll see why
Thank you to: loveforever7250, mayflower55, moon cutie, therednecklace, and wildarms17 for following The Detective and The Artist.
Thank you to therednecklace and CJcraziness for favoring my story!
Response to reviews:
GeorgyannWayson: I really hope it is something you have never seen before…cause it came out of my head lol and don't worry i'll keep going with this story!
Qwerty124: I've never heard it either but I came across the song Qwerty a while ago…you reminded me of its existence haha. And you'll hear a lot more about their history…about eight years worth lol.
Therednecklace: thank you for your compliments! They make me feel all warm and funny inside XD. And I love the fact that you ship John and Sherlock but unfortunately that's not this story. I think the chapters will get REALLY interesting once they actually start dating…because Ciaran has a secret too… and that's all I'm going to say on that one :)
Chapter 3
Something was agitating Sherlock. He knew that he was forgetting something and it was driving him up the wall. He knew it had something to do with the flat... "Painting!" he suddenly jumped up and shouted making Mrs. Hudson spill the tea she was preparing for him. "Oh Sherlock! look what you made me do!" She cried out as he bolted from the flat.
A few quick turns down alleyways and through a set of double doors and he was standing in front of Ciaran. "Are you stalking me?" he smiled at the detective making him glare" What? No of course not, otherwise I would be hidden from you. I want to buy one of your paintings."
Ciaran smiled as he wiped down the bar. "Hi Ciaran, How are you? I'm good how are you Sherlock?" He grinned at the detective making him glare. "I'm fine now about that painting."
"Which painting?"
"The white skull on the blue background." Sherlock sighed. "OH! you want to buy Henry! Alright but it will cost you 150 pounds though." He said then stared as the tall man waived a hand. "That's fine, bring the painting to 221b baker street and I'll give you the money then." He responded before strutting out the door. "Why do I get the feeling that I'm never going to be seen again?" Ciaran asked himself then shrugged and began to slice up fruit for the night's garnishes.
The next day Ciaran found himself standing on the threshold just a little bit confused and perturbed. "I SAID I WAS SORRY!" he shouted as he lifted the painting back into the cab and sighed. "Alright it's not 221 barstow street...ba, ba...barten? Bake...BAKER! 221 baker street please!" He asked the cabbie making the old man chortle. "You got it boss!"
Needless to say when he was dropped off at 221 Baker Street, he was more than a little hesitant to ring the bell, but did so anyways.
"Oh hello dear!" an older woman smiled at him as he mentally slapped himself for the second time. "Oh I am sorry I believe I have the wrong address...again." He said giving his best embarrassed smile. "You never know dear, who are you looking for?" She asked with an indulgent smile. "Well madam, I'm looking for a Sherlock...he never did give me his last name and shouted the address when he was going out the door so I only caught the 221 B bah part of what he was saying." he said with a small smile.
"Oh then it is your lucky day! Sherlock is my tenant! He's just up the stairs!" She smiled and wondered what it was the boy was carrying as it was almost as tall as him.
"Thank you Madam!" He smiled over his shoulder and knocked on the door then winced at the aggravated shout of 'Go AWAY!'
Ciaran found himself smiling at the older woman yet again before he opening the door. "No I will not go away. I've brought you the painting and I'll be damned if I am going to lug it all the way back to my place you git." He said as he walked inside as bold as brass only to be greeted by a half-naked Sherlock carrying a blow torch.
"Oh it only you. I thought you were Lestrade. Now go on let's see the painting." Sherlock said as he nonchalantly put out the blow torch.
oh god...I really REALLY want...not the time Ciaran thought as he began to unwrap the painting he brought with him. "No idea who or what a Lestrade is." he said absentmindedly. "No one important just a DI...I like it."
Lestrade automatically interrupted with a 'hey!' and threw a pillow at Sherlock.
Ciaran grabbed the pillow and threw it back, hitting the detective inspector upside the head. "a bheith ciúin agus éisteacht!" he growled then shook his head at the confused looks. "I actually know that one, he said be quiet and listen…" Sherlock said evenly as he sipped his tea. "Well continue with the story!"
Ciaran shook his head with a small smile. "Well you're supposed to like it. What use is a painting that you don't like?" He said as he turned back towards the detective. "have to ask about the blowtorch though..."
"You wouldn't understand and many people buy painting and tchotchkes that they don't necessarily like. I think i'll hang it here." Sherlock said as he grabbed the painting and held it by the wall. "Well people are weird like that." Ciaran responded as he looked around for a hammer and nail.
"Here hold this right here." Sherlock said and walked over to the kitchen area. "So explain about the blowtorch." Ciaran asked while holding the painting against the wall. "I was trying to melt a gold ring to see the pattern it made." He said simply then stared at the bartender as he nodded. "good thing that Gold has a low melting point."
Sherlock stared at the artist then gave a smile. But before he could speak Mrs. Hudson came into the flat carrying a tea tray. "Oh good your friends still here Sherlock, would you like some tea?" She smiled and ignored the glare from her tenant. "Mrs. Hudson this is Ciaran."
"Hold on. Mrs. Hudson knew Ciaran?" John asked with mixed look of astonishment and anger. "Sort of but not really. Hush now and pay attention." Ciaran smiled at the doctor. For some reason every time Ciaran smiled at him, John felt the over whelming urge to blush.
"Alright that's fair...Wait is anyone else hungry?" He asked trying not to look at the Irishman. "Who wants Chinese?"
You should always end a chapter with an order of good Chinese, You can tell a good Chinese place by the bottom third of a door handle...or so I'm told.
Anyways please read and review! I LOVE it when you do! (oh my god I'm rhyming now…GAH!)
Salcone Destrivina