"Alright, while he's busy, what do you think?" I asked Watson, me on the chair part of the couch while he was on the long part. "I know he says you don't have a choice, but don't listen to him." I muttered, only to have him smile.

"I think I'll take it." I smiled as he said this.

"Very good. Now, just a few rules."

"Of course." He said with a nod, blue eyes shining.

"Do not leave your cell phone out." His brows came together at this rule. "Leave your door locked if not in it. Keep your keys on you at all times and try to indulge his... Habits..." I muttered, only to have him clear his throat.

"I'm not sure I understand..." He muttered, making me smile.

"Sherlock Holmes is as deranged as they say in the books. I've only done this as an example for you. I left my door open, and he is in there right now looking for somthing."

"What?"

"Doesn't matter. If he finds anything he'll shout." As if on cue, I was summoned.

"Woman! Woman what is this?" He asked, coming down the stairs and holding up a box. I sighed, raising an eyebrow at Watson before answering Holmes.

"It's a smoking patch." His brows came together as he came around the couch, sitting in the chair next to me.

"What the duce dose it do?" He asked, making me sigh.

"I've quit smoking. Those inject a stream of nicotine into the blood stream to take the edge off." I said, rolling my sleeve up to show him a patch on my forearm.

"That explains why I can't find any tobacco in this hell hole!" He growled, making me sigh.

"Well, I anticipate your return. We'll talk coasts once your all settled." With that he nodded, shaking my hand and retreating, going outside. "And you!" I said, making him look at me with a queer look. "You need new clothes and a shower! You stick out like a sore thumb." He looked down at his white, dirty shirt, with trousers and suspenders that hung at his waist. "I have a shirt and pants you can use for now until I get to shopping later today. " He sniffed some, standing and going back upstairs. I followed behind, grabbing a black shirt and black pants from my room, throwing them to him. "And stay out of my room." I growled, grabbing the box, slamming my door in his face. "I swear that man will be the death of me..."

"I dear say, these are most comfortable." Holmes said as I drove down the road. I glanced at him, jaw clenching. he looked good... Like, really good. He had shaved, so his face was clean, hair tousled messily about his head and clothes fresh. He bore a plain black shirt that clung to his body, same with the black jeans. He looked like a proper... I don't even know. "I can see why you love this era so. Such freedom!" He said, making me sigh.

"Hey, you never told me how much money you got for those bank cards." I asked, only to have him smile.

"I must ask, is 100,000 a lot?" I stopped the car, only to have a loud, blaring horn go off behind me. I cleared my throat, continuing down the winding road.

"How in the hell did you get that much? Where did you even put it?" I asked, stopping at the stop sign.

"Where do people normally put that much money? In the bank of course!" I began to fume as he said this, continuing onto Wal*mart and parking. "I think being away from me so long as made you lose site of normal reasoning." He muttered more to himself, but I, of course, heard him.

"Sherlock."

"Hm?"

"Get out."

*Sherlock's POV*

After many arguments, I finally was able to get her to leave me at the 'Store' as she called it. Well, she actually called it Walt Mart? Walter Mart? Who knows. It was for a plausible reason why I asked her to leave me. She was right, I did stick out like a sore thumb. If Moriarty was around in this time, then he would be waiting for me. Why not do what I do best, and blend in? Using the debit card I got, I bought plenty of shirts and pants, mainly dress pants. Along with a couple of jackets. As I looked around the rather large shop, I found a place that does hair. Running a hand through my messy curls, I sighed. It would appear short hair was for this era. With haste, I entered the hair place, where they sat me down and began to cut away. Once done, they 'styled' it as they called it, it now short standing to the heavens. Once paid for and out, I saw a phone store. With a smirk, I walked across the street.

*Normal POV*

I sat in my little green Saturn, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. "I knew I shouldn't have left him alone." I growled, looking all around. "Probably off thinking he's solving some case."

"I don't think, I do." He said, entering the car. As I turned to yell at him, I froze. If I thought he looked good before, I was sorely wrong. He now wore a leather jacket with the collar popped. His once long, messy hair was short, spiked upwards. As he glanced at me, smirking, I couldn't help but look away, stomach churning. "So, do I look the part of a 21st century citizen?" I started the car, masking the sound of me clearing my throat.

"Look it, but don't sound it." He turned to me confused as I stated this, making me sigh. "You sound like an 18th century English man." As I looked over to him, he gave me a blank look.

"I am."

"Exactly. Try sounding more... I dunno. American?"

"So, I must act brashly, with no self-respect?" I went to open my mouth to retort, then shut it.

"Yeah..."