Sorry for the long wait!

I haven't any clue what I'm doing half the time...and tbh, this chapter is kinda bleh cause I wrote it when I wasn't really feeling like writing..but I knew I had to!

Thank you for the reviews and the follows! Oatmeal cookies all around!

LunaEvanna Longbottom: *picks the raisins out the the cookies* Here you go! Thanks for the review! Writing longer chapters is hard because I keep wanting to post these up as soon as I write them!

intjsherlocked: AWWWW! Thank you so much! I'm so glad that you're enjoying it and it makes me want to write more and more! Please, keep reading and giving me feedback!

Cladnplaid: it might be a slow build up but I'm certainly having fun writing it! So happy that you're enjoying it!

lavonnadarc: thank you! Hope this chapter makes up for the long absence..

Pastel-Potatoes: Spelling mistakes! The bane of my existence! Let me know where those spots are and I will try my best to fix them. I try to re-read what I just wrote but sometimes those sneaky little devil's get past and can ruin a good sentence. In the words of the late Madeye Moody, "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

SHSHSHSH

He was short, blonde and looked eerily similar to the guy that played John Watson in the series. Eerily similar but he looked just a little different.

As if the casting director saw this guy and then cast the Martin guy cause he looks like him.

I must have resembled a frightened gopher with my head poking out of the white hospital covers because he slowly and carefully walked over with a small unassuming smile. I realized that his walk and his whole body language was relaxed and completely meant to disarm any fears I would possibly have.

Huh, I guess I keep forgetting that he IS a actual doctor. Bed side manner and all that.

"I'm glad to see you awake," He said softly as the edges of his eyes crinkled. "How are you feeling?"

Yikes, what a loaded question. How do I even answer that?

"I'm doing ok, I think." I replied quietly, unknowingly mimicking his small smile. "I'm a bit hungry."

What can I say? I'm a emotional eater.

"Let's get you something to eat."

He smiled kindly and stepped back to the door and said a few soft words out to someone standing right outside.

I suddenly realized, thinking back to all the cop tv shows I've seen, that there must have been a cop right outside the door.

After all, I thought with a chill, I AM part of a gruesome murder investigation.

"My friend, the detective, wants to ask a few questions," He paused as he gauged my reaction. " Will that be alright?

"I think so." I gave him what I thought would be a convincing smile.

Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap, AMNESIA! I have amnesia and I need to sell it.

"Good, I'll have him come in right now."

NOW? CrapcrapCRAP! I need more time!

I gripped the covers as if they were my life line as I froze, watched him walk over to the door and lean out, calling out to someone outside.

The man that walked in, just like John, looked like the actor who played him. He even had the same grayish hair but a youthful face.

Lestrade walked in with a grim nod to John and strod over to my bed. He then gave me a softer nod and introduced himself again to me.

"Hello." I replied licked my lips nervously as I unclenched my sweaty fingers and wiped them surreptitiously undenether the covers.

He whipped out his little notebook from his front pocket and I flicked my eyes towards his torso to see if I could see his gun holster.

"Alright," He then gave me a tight smile, "What's your name?"

"Becca Singer." I nodded like a idiot to assure my integrity in replying the truth.

I already told them my real name but stay on track! Be consistent now! Cmon Becca. You can do this.

"Do you think you'll be able to answer some questions?" His voice took on a gentler tone as he took in my nervousness.

"I understand you were present at the crime scene." He looked down at me as I nodded in affirmation. "Were you present when it happened?"

"I, I don't know." I shook my head and looked down at my sweaty hands.

Ew, why are my nails so long? I need to cut them.

NO! Think! AMNESIA, be consistent!

"I don't remember anything except for waking up next to him." I paused and then clarified. "Waking up next to him being already dead, I mean."

He stared at me. "So you don't remember anything?"

"Oh, I do remember my name," I thought, remembering back to my screaming conversation with Sherlock. "And something to do with this being a TV show..but I think I was in shock, or something...but besides my name," I paused and closed my eyes, "I don't remember anything... where I live, why I'm even here, if I even have a job or not…It's just a big blank."

Please buy it, please buy it!

I almost sighed with relief as I watched him rock back on his heels in surprise and share a look with John. "Well, let's try to get everything you know so that we can help you."

Bless this man and his simplicity.

SHSHSHSH

He finally thanked me and after pleasantries and his card, and a promise from me to let him know if I remember anything, they both left. I told them everything. Which was basically nothing.

I had woken up having no idea how I got there, my name was the only thing I knew about myself, and I was very very confused as to why I happened to speak in an American accent while in Britain.

Now all I needed to do was to keep my story straight and let nothing slip.

Let nothing slip? I happen to have met and somehow garnered the pity of John Watson, the partner of the greatest detective!

Yah, this'll be easy.

A few minutes after they left there was another knock at the door. At my reply, Nurse Marissa bustled in with a tray of hospital food.

"Hello, dear!" Her cheerful voice turned sympathetic. "I heard about you not being able to remember anything." She laid the tray on a neaby table and wheeled it over. "Let me know if I can help you with anything!" She called out as she left out the door.

I sighed and leaned back in my bed to collect myself. I felt so drained and exhausted. So far I didn't get a chance to figure out when in the time line I was in.

Gah, I should have looked down at his ring finger to see if he was married!

I looked over at the tray and snatched up the fork and started pulling off the lids, stuffing food into my mouth.

Not bad, I thought as I chewed, or rather, inhaled the hospital food, nothing like hunger to make anything taste good.

In my haste to eat my food I ended up spilling some of the food onto the covers. I glared at it in annoyance, the sauce was already starting to stain. As it was against my personal rule to let any food go to waste, I carefully wiped it onto my fingers and started bringing it to my mouth.

"They told me you have amnesia."

The sauce went flying from my finger as I jerked in surprise and gaped at the person who had just spoken.

He raised a eyebrow and looked at the impact point of the sauce on the wall behind me and continued, "I find it quite interesting that you have no memory of the incident."

He turned his inquisitive gaze towards me as he stood with his hands behind his back.

CrapcrapCRAP!. He's going to deduce me and know that I'm lying!

Ok, play it cool. Stick close to the truth.

I grabbed a napkin and wiped my fingers as I stalled and panicked. Raising my eyes to his, I took a deep breath and replied in my most sincere voice, "I really don't know how I got here..I honestly don't. I don't even know why I'm in England."

His eyes bore into my own and I stared back. He must have seen the quiet terror in them because he looked away and spoke in a soft voice,

"I'm sorry...about yesterday." I raised my eyebrows in surprise.

Sherlock? Sorry?

"John said that I should apologize to you in the way I was acting. I suppose it didn't help the situation."

Oh, John.

If I remember correctly, the only man that is able to bring out the human side of Sherlock.

"Uh, no problem." I stuttered out and looked down at my food to pick at it nervously.

"Where are you going to be staying?" His tone was casual but I could feel the weight of his stare without needing to look up.

"I'm not sure.." I paused for a moment to clear my throat and rambled on, "I'm pretty sure that I'll be sent back to the States cause I don't think I'm exactly a British citizen.."

Do I even exist in this place? Is there another Becca Evelyn Singer in this world?

Crap. If I really don't exist in this world, I'm screwed.

"Well, until then, you can stay at my flat."

"What?" I looked up in surprise at his casual invitation.

"I'm sure Lestrade will get it all figured out who you are," He smiled, or rather, did a semblemce of a polite smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "and in the meantime, I can help you remember who you are and how you got in this particular situation."

His offer was most certainly said in a polite way but I could see that he was more interested in the mystery than actually helping me.

And besides.

What are the odds that I drop into a Sherlock world and end up getting invited to live in his apartment while he figures out who I am?

No, this isn't a weird coicidence. Not freaky at all. Not in the slightest.

"I-I, I don't know if that's going to be ok with the police!" I stuttered out in panic.

"Don't worry, Lestrade will handle it." He replied confidently.

"And I don't even have any clothes!" I gestured at my hospital gown.

"I'm sure Mrs. Hudson would have something suitable for you to wear." He waved his arm vaguely, "women tend to share their clothes with one another."

I thought desperately for a out. " Don't you live with John? I'll just be in the way."

"John hasn't lived with me for a few years." He looked at me curiously. "He lives with his fiancé."

Oh. Ok. So Mary is here but they haven't married yet.

Aaand, now I've said something I couldn't possibly know.

"Oh, uh, John was just here and he mentioned that you guys either were roommates or something like that.." I covered my flub.

That seemed to satisfy him because he continued, "You obviously don't have anywhere to stay and you staying with me is the obvious choice in this situation. You can stay in John's old room until this case is solved."

Great. I'm just a juicy case for him to solve and possibly a blog post for John.

"I'll just text Lestrade and let him know what's going on."

I'm sure his tone was meant to be soothing.

He shrugged off his long iconic Sherlock overcoat and walked over, holding the coat out to me.

I continued to stare at him until I realized that he was actually waiting for me to stand up, put the coat on, and leave with him.

"Don't I have to go through a checking out procedure?"

He let out a long sigh and rolled his eyes. "They'd most likely want to keep you for several days. Would you rather stay here for that time?"

To be completely honest, no. I'd rather not.

What do I even want? Do I want to stay here and be sent back to the states? Or do I want to embrace the situation I'm in and become a member of the Sherlock series?

Well, Becca, whatever you're meant to do here… Maybe being sent here wasn't an accident…maybe you can figure out why and maybe how to get back home.

I reached out, grabbed his coat and put it around me as I gingerly stood up, suddenly extremely aware of the fact that I wasn't wearing a bra.

Ew. His coat smelled kinda musty and sweaty. When was the last time he washed this thing?

I ran my fingers through my hair to make myself look at least decently human, pulled on the hospital slippers I found at the foot of my bed and nodded at Sherlock.

He politely open the door and waited as I ran back to the bed to snatch the Jell-O cup to take with me. I then carefully wrapped his coat around me, took a deep breath, and walked out the door.

SHSHSHSH

Hoped y'all like it and please leave a review… It helps me greatly.