Chapter 2:
It was 6:52pm when John arrived at Baker street. He glanced around quickly, noticing the area was actually decent.
"A man who understands punctuality. I must say I'm rather surprised,Dr. Watson." A voice called from behind him.
John turned around quickly to come face to face with his future roommate. Sherlock, he noticed, was dressed more relaxed than yesterday. She was dressed in a pair of fitting black jeans and a knitted blue jumper that seemed to be a size too big. She was also wearing the same coat and scarf she had been wearing the previous day. The buckled ankle boots that adorned her feet added an inch to her height, making her just the same height as himself.
John had to admit he quite liked the way she had thrown her hair carelessly into a messy bun, strands of her curly hair seemed to be trying to escape at every angle all the while being secured by what seemed to be a chop stick.
"Yes...well it's always best to be early than late I suppose." How he managed to say this without stuttering he'd never know.
"hmm … your positively correct doctor." Her sharp eyes seemed to examine every part of his body as she gave him a once over. John felt his face flush at the thought. Her examination was over just as soon as it began and with a flash of pearly whites she said," well then, shall we go see about this flat?"
John hadn't time to answer as she had already whipped around,walking off to the door with the number 221B.
" This looks like a really prime spot . It's got to be expensive Ms. Holmes!"
"Please , just Sherlock will do. And don't worry about technicalities! Mrs. Hudson, the landlady she's giving me a special deal. Owes me a favor - a few years ago, her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help her out"
"You stopped her husband being executed." He asked skeptically. Who was this woman?
"Oh, no darling. I ensured it." She confessed with a bright smile before knocking on the door. The way she said 'darling' made his ears heat up.
The door opened to reveal an older lady in a purple dress.
"Sherlock!" She squealed, wrapping her arms around Sherlock's' thin shoulders.
"Mrs. Hudson I would like to introduce you to Dr. Watson. Dr. Watson this is the landlady Mrs. Hudson."Sherlock says, making introductions.
"John, please." he said, shaking the older woman's hand.
"Come in, come in!" Mrs. Hudson hurried them inside.
As soon as they entered the flat John let his eyes roam across everything. There were random objects thrown everywhere and about twelve stacks of books in one corner. It was a fixer upper but John could see himself happily living here. But first the place needed a good dusting.
"Well this could be very nice...very nice indeed" John nodded walking around the living room.
"Yes, I was thinking the same thing." Sherlock acknowledged.
"Soon as we get all this rubbish cleaned out."-"So I went ahead and moved in."-
John and Sherlock turned towards each other. They obviously weren't on the same page.
"Oh! so this is all….." John felt his face burn bright in embarrassment. He hadn't meant to insult her belongings.
"Yes, but I can straighten everything up a bit." Sherlock muttered dashing around the room, trying to make the place look more livable.
John was going to tell her it was okay until he spotted the strange object on the fireplace.
"That's a skull!" he stated, pointing his cane towards said object.
"That's a friend of mine. Well I say friend but…" Sherlock was cut off by Mrs. Hudson entering the room.
"What do you think, Dr. Watson - there's another bedroom upstairs. If you'll be needing two bedrooms, that is" she explained throwing him a knowing look.
"Well of course we'll be needing two. It'd be highly inappropriate otherwise!" The stuttered words flew quickly out of his mouth as he looked to Sherlock, who seemed to be in a world of her own as she continued tidying. He turned back to the smiling landlady, his face showing how mortified he was from the suggestion.
"Oh don't you worry, i know how you young people are these days." She nodded with a mischievous wink before bustling into the small kitchen, leaving John and Sherlock alone."Oh, Sherlock, the mess you've made."
Sherlock didn't pay her attention as she started to set up her laptop. John raised his eyebrow at the multiple harry potter stickers that adjourned her laptop.
"Harry potter fan?" he asked.
"Who isn't?" she shot back, clearing her desk.
With a shrug of his shoulders he decided to sit down on the one seater to give his legs a rest."Looked you up on the Internet last night".
"Find anything interesting?" She asked,turning to give him her full attention.
" Found your website - The Science of Deduction." He revealed.
"And what did you think?" She asked eagerly with her hands in her back pockets, a proud smile upon her face.
" You said you could identify a software designer by his tie, and an airline pilot by his left thumb." John challenged, throwing her a cautious look.
"Yes. And I can read your military career in your face and your leg, and the drinking habits of your brother in your mobile phone." She stated as if it were the most simple thing in the world to do. Maybe it was for her but to him it was downright impossible.
"How?" he asked. Sherlock just raised a brow before turning back to her desk.
"What about these suicides, then, Sherlock? Thought that would be right up your street. Three of them, exactly the same. That's a bit funny, isn't it?" asked as she entered the room once more, reading the newspaper in her hand.
"Four, Mrs. Hudson. There's been a fourth. And there's something different this time." Sherlock corrected, staring out the window at the police car that had arrived.
"A fourth? Oh dear! How do you know?" chimed. John stared at the two in confusion. Why on earth would they be bothered about murder cases? Before he could voice his question, a man with graying hair came through the door.
"Where?" Was all Sherlock said, her head tilted cutely (in his opinion anyway) to the side. She seemed to know the man.
"Brixton. Lauriston Gardens." The man disclosed.
"What's different about this one. You wouldn't have come to get me, if there wasn't something new. So what's changed?." She asked, her eyes drilling into the man.
"You know how they never leave notes?"
"Yes."
"This one did. Will you come?"
"That depends…...who's on forensics?"
"Anderson."
John watched as Sherlock rolled her eyes in exasperation. She was obviously not fond of this 'Anderson' person if the look of irritation that sat on her face was anything to go by.
"It just had to be Anderson." She ranted partly to herself.
"So will you come?" The gray haired man pleaded.
"Oh alright! But not in a police car. I'll be right behind you." Agitation could be heard in her voice.
With a quick 'thank you', the man flashed out of the room before she decided to change her mind.
John nearly jumped out of his seat at the loud…
"BRILLIANT" that came from the small woman who was doing what seemed to be a ...happy dance? As she twirled around the room shoving random items into her pockets.
"And I thought it was going to be a boring evening of cleaning and packing. But serial suicides, and now a note - oh, it's Christmas!" Sherlock nearly sang as she rushed to the door. "Mrs. Hudson, I'll be late - could you make some food?."
"I'm your landlady, dear, not your housekeeper." the older woman laughed as Sherlock twirled around her.
"Something cold is fine. John make yourself at home - have a cuppa! Don't wait up!"
Before john knew it she was out the door, leaving him with Ms. Hudson for the evening. For a moment, a feeling of disappointment crawled its way into John's stomach. And what an unsettling feeling it was. One he hadn't felt in ages, ever since he was made sit on the sidelines at his army base because of his injury. It was the feeling of having the excitement of the unknown ripped from his hands. He hadn't realized it before but he wanted what Sherlock had. Unpredictability at every corner.
John was distracted from his thoughts as the woman barreled back into the room.
"You're a doctor." She started with a grin on her face, which was slightly flushed from running up the stairs."Actually you're an army doctor."
"Yes." John replied with a raised brow wondering where this was headed.
Before he could blink she stood in front of him,leaning in close as if looking for something.
"Any good?" she challenged with a small smirk. A very attractive smirk if he was being honest with himself.
"Very good." John clarified, standing from his chair. Meeting her eye to eye.
"Seen a lot of injuries then. Violent deaths? Dismembered bodies? Disfigured faces?" she asked almost eagerly.
"Well, yes."
"Been in a bit of trouble too, I bet."
"Of course, yes. Enough for a lifetime. Far too much."He said, staring her into the eye.
They stood facing each other for a few moments. Sherlock looked as if she were considering something and John waited for something to happen.
"Want to see some more?" she cooed temptingly.
"Oh, God, yes!" John blurted out in excitement.
"Get your coat then." Was all she said before dashing out the door once more. John shook his head slightly in amusement as he quickly grabbed his coat and ran after her.