Chapter 1
I spent most my life helping people and healing them. My father taught me that the best things in life came from helping others, a law he fallowed thought his life. He was a former army surgeon from London, but after my mother's death he took up a job in the Peace Corps of South America. This was a job he enjoyed greatly, mostly helping young children. I was his nurse and was happy to do it. Of course my education was the first thing with my father, I was educated through the mail, completing elementary through high school without ever going to a normal classroom. My father kept me at his side always, being highly protective as any father would be. But as any child would be, I got into trouble. It wasn't till I was 18 that my father finally decided that it was time for a change. It happened after I had an unfortunate fall from a tree, injuring my shoulder which resulted in my body contracting a fever that kept me in bed for months. When I was able to stand on my own feet again, my father informed me that he had found me a place in his old college, the catch: it was in London, England. I shipped out before I could argue my case and my father had me living in the hotel until I could find better and less expensive living space. While eating at a local restaurant one day I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was a friend of mine from the tropics, Richard, one of the younger members of the Peace Corps and a former student of the school I was now attending. After a while of catching up, we started on the topic of why I was in London. "Looking for a place to stay right now while I'm going to school," I answered, "And possibly a roommate..."
"Funny that you should bring up that subject," Richard laughed, "I was just talking to a young man about the same thing in the schools science building. He is a student at the same school you've enrolled in. He has a place and is looking for someone to share it with."
"Really?" I said quickly and hopefully, "Well if he is willing to be a roommate with a girl then I'd be happy too..." Richard's face was not all that filled with excitement and my hopes dropped as his face did. "Something wrong?"
"Holmes isn't exactly your type of person," he said softly, "I don't think that you would want him as your roommate."
"Something wrong with him?"
"No, he is a pretty good guy although a little cold. A bit wild in his ideas though and he is not at all afraid to voice them."
"Well what is he studying?"
"I'm not sure actually, I know it's not medical studies. But he is a genius when it comes to chemistry and anatomy, but his studies are eccentric and not in a clear defining major. He is also a hard man to talk to, he'll be very talkative when he wants to be, and often his words are cold and hard without meaning to be I think."
"Well I don't really mind if he isn't all that nice," I shrugged, "I would only need a quiet place to study and to relax." Richard sighed and nodded as we stood.
"He informed me that he was going to go back and rest in his apartment down on Baker Street, above a bookshop I believe, and not far from here," he said as we ventured from the restaurant, "But I must warn you that you can't hold against me if he and you don't get along."
"Of course not," I answered as we walked, "It will be all the more easy to say goodbye if we don't get along. But are you sure that he is all that bad, I mean how bad could he be?"
"Well he is a little to scientific for me," my friend answered, "He is always looking for such exact information, nothing in the gray area, just the straight hard facts. And he always beats things down to their smallest parts, always looking as deep as he can go."
"Doesn't sound so bad to me," I said, "I spent most my life with guys who are into that straight hard fact thing, doctors and military types have that habit you know. But I think I'm the kind of person that could get along with everyone, no one is without a heart. I'm sure he is just misunderstood or something."
"We'll know soon enough," he answered with another sigh, "This is the place, Baker Street, 221B." We stopped in front of a small building and took a door to the side of the shop, walking up a flight of stairs to the apartment above. The apartment had two bedrooms, on either side. A small kitchen and sitting room stood in between them, all furnished and well taken care of. That was my thought before I saw the room on the far end from the door we entered. It was quiet lived in as there were clothes scattered all over along with books, laboratory equipment, and a rather tall boy lying on the bed. The boy moaned and I jumped as he looked at us with a sort of half awake look. His eyes looked at me over his hawk like nose, his lengthy body barely able to fit the bed. "Sherlock Holmes," Richard spoke after a few moments, "I would like to introduce you to Miss Laura J. Galahad. She is looking to become your roommate. Laura, this is Sherlock Holmes."
"Can't you see I'm working," Holmes moaned lifting turning himself on to his back, "Come with news I can use or get out." I leaned over more to look into his face, not able to keep a look of amusement from my features.
"This is what you call working?" I questioned, trying to clear the air, which was no help. Holmes lazily lifted a hand and motioned towards the beakers and other equipment on a near by table (most of it spread out in a mess like the rest of the room).
"I'm working as we speak," the lazy boy said, speaking as he lifted him self off his bed, leading us to the kitchen where he poured himself some coffee, "Not that I expect a girl to understand, especially one from the tropics." For a moment, I was pretty dumfounded at his words, gaping like a fish.
"How did you..." I began but Holmes held up his hand.
"Now if you have no more use of me, I would like to get back to work and you can LEAVE," he said turning to return to his former position, but Richard caught him by the arm.
"Holmes, didn't you listen to me before?"
"I find some information to be of no use to me so I don't listen," Holmes answered pulling his arm away, "But since you seem so inclined, what was this information that you happened to tell me?"
"Miss Laura is looking for a roommate and I thought she could stay here with you..."
"No," Holmes answered flatly walking back to his room, again with us fallowing.
"But she is a good person and she won't be any trouble."
"No."
"She is quiet and she only needs a place to stay."
"No."
"She is studying at the same school you are and it would be beneficial to you both if she was here. To cut down the price of living here of course, just think of the money you could save!"
"No."
"Is it because I'm a female?" I asked and Holmes turned to me. I could tell I hit the spot as I saw his eyes look at me.
"Yes, yes it is," Holmes said breaking his continuous rejection of our words, "I don't like women and I especially don't like girls with ideas like they can change the world by just being 'caring' and 'good'. They are stuffy, unintelligent, and often are the true reason for corruption in men." I was surprised that he could say such a thing with a straight face, although I kept one of my own. "Besides, I'm not in the mood to be anyone's friend, companion, or roommate," he continued, "I wish to be alone to my work, now and forever."
"All I need is a place to stay," I said in a partially sweet begging fashion, "We don't have to keep any relations if you don't want to. It would be nice to have someone to talk to of course. We could just stay here together and share the cost of living here. I don't want you to think that I wish to cause you any trouble in your work. But I really need a place to stay. It would be as if I wasn't here." Holmes looked at me, studying me like a vulture studies food. I couldn't help a gulp as I watched his cold eyes look into mine. After a moment he sighed, rubbing his brow with his hand.
"Fine, if you really need a place to stay..." He started, but then paused, "You promise that you are quiet and will leave me to my work?"
"Of course," I promised.
"And what do you think of violin playing?"
"I love classical music," I answered truthfully, "Of course bad playing should be a..."
"And you have no objections to smoking?" Holmes interrupted quickly, as if to keep me quiet.
"I guess not," I answered slowly, "My father use to smoke cigars so I guess I'm use to it."
"You can move in tomorrow," Holmes said quickly lying down in his bed again, face in his pillow so we were unable to see it. I looked to Richard as he looked to me. We both shrugged; guess that was our cue to leave. As we turned Holmes lifted himself again.
"And by the way Miss Galahad," Holmes said quickly making me stop, "I don't get up any time before ten a.m., noon if I get back late. If you wake me I can be very cranky." Once he had finished, Holmes, smashed his face back into the pillow. I looked to Richard, one eyebrow rising in joking fashion.
"He gets crankier?" Richard shrugged as we left Holmes to his 'work'. I guess it was too early to tell who Holmes really was, although something about him was nagging me in the back of my mind. Sherlock Holmes was a character I had never met before and to put it in simple words, I had a new fascination with Holmes. A fascination that would pull me to a place I never had been before.
I spent most my life helping people and healing them. My father taught me that the best things in life came from helping others, a law he fallowed thought his life. He was a former army surgeon from London, but after my mother's death he took up a job in the Peace Corps of South America. This was a job he enjoyed greatly, mostly helping young children. I was his nurse and was happy to do it. Of course my education was the first thing with my father, I was educated through the mail, completing elementary through high school without ever going to a normal classroom. My father kept me at his side always, being highly protective as any father would be. But as any child would be, I got into trouble. It wasn't till I was 18 that my father finally decided that it was time for a change. It happened after I had an unfortunate fall from a tree, injuring my shoulder which resulted in my body contracting a fever that kept me in bed for months. When I was able to stand on my own feet again, my father informed me that he had found me a place in his old college, the catch: it was in London, England. I shipped out before I could argue my case and my father had me living in the hotel until I could find better and less expensive living space. While eating at a local restaurant one day I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was a friend of mine from the tropics, Richard, one of the younger members of the Peace Corps and a former student of the school I was now attending. After a while of catching up, we started on the topic of why I was in London. "Looking for a place to stay right now while I'm going to school," I answered, "And possibly a roommate..."
"Funny that you should bring up that subject," Richard laughed, "I was just talking to a young man about the same thing in the schools science building. He is a student at the same school you've enrolled in. He has a place and is looking for someone to share it with."
"Really?" I said quickly and hopefully, "Well if he is willing to be a roommate with a girl then I'd be happy too..." Richard's face was not all that filled with excitement and my hopes dropped as his face did. "Something wrong?"
"Holmes isn't exactly your type of person," he said softly, "I don't think that you would want him as your roommate."
"Something wrong with him?"
"No, he is a pretty good guy although a little cold. A bit wild in his ideas though and he is not at all afraid to voice them."
"Well what is he studying?"
"I'm not sure actually, I know it's not medical studies. But he is a genius when it comes to chemistry and anatomy, but his studies are eccentric and not in a clear defining major. He is also a hard man to talk to, he'll be very talkative when he wants to be, and often his words are cold and hard without meaning to be I think."
"Well I don't really mind if he isn't all that nice," I shrugged, "I would only need a quiet place to study and to relax." Richard sighed and nodded as we stood.
"He informed me that he was going to go back and rest in his apartment down on Baker Street, above a bookshop I believe, and not far from here," he said as we ventured from the restaurant, "But I must warn you that you can't hold against me if he and you don't get along."
"Of course not," I answered as we walked, "It will be all the more easy to say goodbye if we don't get along. But are you sure that he is all that bad, I mean how bad could he be?"
"Well he is a little to scientific for me," my friend answered, "He is always looking for such exact information, nothing in the gray area, just the straight hard facts. And he always beats things down to their smallest parts, always looking as deep as he can go."
"Doesn't sound so bad to me," I said, "I spent most my life with guys who are into that straight hard fact thing, doctors and military types have that habit you know. But I think I'm the kind of person that could get along with everyone, no one is without a heart. I'm sure he is just misunderstood or something."
"We'll know soon enough," he answered with another sigh, "This is the place, Baker Street, 221B." We stopped in front of a small building and took a door to the side of the shop, walking up a flight of stairs to the apartment above. The apartment had two bedrooms, on either side. A small kitchen and sitting room stood in between them, all furnished and well taken care of. That was my thought before I saw the room on the far end from the door we entered. It was quiet lived in as there were clothes scattered all over along with books, laboratory equipment, and a rather tall boy lying on the bed. The boy moaned and I jumped as he looked at us with a sort of half awake look. His eyes looked at me over his hawk like nose, his lengthy body barely able to fit the bed. "Sherlock Holmes," Richard spoke after a few moments, "I would like to introduce you to Miss Laura J. Galahad. She is looking to become your roommate. Laura, this is Sherlock Holmes."
"Can't you see I'm working," Holmes moaned lifting turning himself on to his back, "Come with news I can use or get out." I leaned over more to look into his face, not able to keep a look of amusement from my features.
"This is what you call working?" I questioned, trying to clear the air, which was no help. Holmes lazily lifted a hand and motioned towards the beakers and other equipment on a near by table (most of it spread out in a mess like the rest of the room).
"I'm working as we speak," the lazy boy said, speaking as he lifted him self off his bed, leading us to the kitchen where he poured himself some coffee, "Not that I expect a girl to understand, especially one from the tropics." For a moment, I was pretty dumfounded at his words, gaping like a fish.
"How did you..." I began but Holmes held up his hand.
"Now if you have no more use of me, I would like to get back to work and you can LEAVE," he said turning to return to his former position, but Richard caught him by the arm.
"Holmes, didn't you listen to me before?"
"I find some information to be of no use to me so I don't listen," Holmes answered pulling his arm away, "But since you seem so inclined, what was this information that you happened to tell me?"
"Miss Laura is looking for a roommate and I thought she could stay here with you..."
"No," Holmes answered flatly walking back to his room, again with us fallowing.
"But she is a good person and she won't be any trouble."
"No."
"She is quiet and she only needs a place to stay."
"No."
"She is studying at the same school you are and it would be beneficial to you both if she was here. To cut down the price of living here of course, just think of the money you could save!"
"No."
"Is it because I'm a female?" I asked and Holmes turned to me. I could tell I hit the spot as I saw his eyes look at me.
"Yes, yes it is," Holmes said breaking his continuous rejection of our words, "I don't like women and I especially don't like girls with ideas like they can change the world by just being 'caring' and 'good'. They are stuffy, unintelligent, and often are the true reason for corruption in men." I was surprised that he could say such a thing with a straight face, although I kept one of my own. "Besides, I'm not in the mood to be anyone's friend, companion, or roommate," he continued, "I wish to be alone to my work, now and forever."
"All I need is a place to stay," I said in a partially sweet begging fashion, "We don't have to keep any relations if you don't want to. It would be nice to have someone to talk to of course. We could just stay here together and share the cost of living here. I don't want you to think that I wish to cause you any trouble in your work. But I really need a place to stay. It would be as if I wasn't here." Holmes looked at me, studying me like a vulture studies food. I couldn't help a gulp as I watched his cold eyes look into mine. After a moment he sighed, rubbing his brow with his hand.
"Fine, if you really need a place to stay..." He started, but then paused, "You promise that you are quiet and will leave me to my work?"
"Of course," I promised.
"And what do you think of violin playing?"
"I love classical music," I answered truthfully, "Of course bad playing should be a..."
"And you have no objections to smoking?" Holmes interrupted quickly, as if to keep me quiet.
"I guess not," I answered slowly, "My father use to smoke cigars so I guess I'm use to it."
"You can move in tomorrow," Holmes said quickly lying down in his bed again, face in his pillow so we were unable to see it. I looked to Richard as he looked to me. We both shrugged; guess that was our cue to leave. As we turned Holmes lifted himself again.
"And by the way Miss Galahad," Holmes said quickly making me stop, "I don't get up any time before ten a.m., noon if I get back late. If you wake me I can be very cranky." Once he had finished, Holmes, smashed his face back into the pillow. I looked to Richard, one eyebrow rising in joking fashion.
"He gets crankier?" Richard shrugged as we left Holmes to his 'work'. I guess it was too early to tell who Holmes really was, although something about him was nagging me in the back of my mind. Sherlock Holmes was a character I had never met before and to put it in simple words, I had a new fascination with Holmes. A fascination that would pull me to a place I never had been before.