The trio had arrived back at the grand building that was St Bart's much too soon for Emily's liking. Their journey had been filled with small talk. Mainly between Mike and John who were discussing their time at Bart's together. Emily had stayed quiet, walking between the two men, content to just listen, occasionally speaking up when she was asked a question, or to ask Mike where they would be going when they reached the hospital. Every time she asked, he merely turned to her and smiled by way answering.

It was now a good twenty minutes later, and they were stood outside a door that lead to the lab.

For Emily, this was a first. She had never had the pleasure of looking around the whole building. On her first day, she had only been shown the essentials; The cloakroom, the ladies loos, the supply room and of course her office. There had been many days when she had been trapped in her office, buried under a pile of paperwork, that she had longed to run through the hallways of St Bart's. Well, perhaps not run. But she wanted to explore every crevice of the building. (Save for the men's rooms, she really had no urge to go in there). And once, she had mustered the courage to do just that. But her courage had been shaken when five minutes later she had become lost, walking down one corridor one minute, only to be walking back the other way through the same corridor a few moments later in order to not get any more misplaced.

If it hadn't been Mike who had been on his way down to visit her, she probably would have been adrift for an awful lot longer.

As Mike gently knocked on the door, she once more shared a perplexed look with John. Why on Earth was Mike taking them to the Lab?

But the bigger man did not wait for a reply from the other side. He held it open behind him for his two companions to follow.

John indicated with his head that Emily could go through first. She smiled at his politeness, unlinked her arm from his and followed Mike into the room, holding it open for John as Mike continued in.

Emily began to take in her surroundings straight away; a huge table centered the room and was covered with microscopes and other technical looking things that looked rather expensive and fragile. Beakers and test tubes with varying colours and amounts of liquids along with other science equipment she could no longer remember the names of. A computer was set in the corner of the room, on top of drawers that Emily was curious to have a look through. Various cabinets decorated the walls, their contents a mystery to Emily

A tall man was working at the far end of the table. He had looked up at them briefly as they had entered, taking a few moments longer to look at the woman than he had the man.

"Well, bit different from my day." John stated as he too, took a look around the room.

"You've no idea." Mike chuckled. "Welcome to St Bartholomew's lab Emily." He added on when he noticed the girl looking around in awe.

"Mike, can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine." Emily noticed the tall man for the first time, she had been to fascinated with the objects around her that she hadn't even paid attention to the other occupants of the room. He had a deep voice, probably capable of silencing an entire room. Emily couldn't help but find him somewhat attractive.

"What's wrong with the landline?" Mike asked as he moved away to sit down, leaving Emily leaning her hip against the table and John standing, at the other end of the room.

"I prefer to text." The stranger replied.

"Sorry." Mike didn't sound sorry in the slightest. "It's in my coat."

"Hang on." Emily dug around in her coat pocket. "You can us-" She had been holding her phone out to the man when it started to go off in her hand, causing her to jump. The Undertones performing Teenage Kicks filled up the lab. She checked the caller ID. Her shoulders visibly sagged at the person on the other end. "Sorry." She flicked her eyes back to the other man, hoping he would understand.

"It's no problem." He told her. She smiled gratefully before turning away.

"Er, here. Use Mine." John supplied as he took his phone out.

"Oh. Thank you." The stranger got up out of his seat and walked towards him.

Emily, after an internal battle, had quickly pressed the button to silence her phone, before slipping it back into her pocket. She only had to wait for a few seconds until it stopped ringing altogether.

"It's an old friend of mine, John Watson." Mike introduced him pointing. "And that's my not so old friend Emily Cooper." She smiled briefly at Mike, but quickly turned away at the disappointed look he was giving her. He knew who had been trying to make contact with her, but she was in no mood to talk to her Mother at the moment. But then, there never really was a time when she was in the mood to talk to her Mother.

The tall man spared the girl another glance as her shoulders sagged once more as he took the offered phone.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?" The stranger asked the man beside him as he now started using his phone.

Emily's head snapped towards the man, who only continued to focus on the item in his hand. She then glanced at the other two men; John looked baffled, while Mike held a knowing smile.

It took John a moment to answer. "Sorry?"

"Which was it- Afghanistan or Iraq?" The man supplied immediately, repeating the same question.

"Afghanistan. Sorry... how did yo-" But the lab door opened before he could finish his sentence.

"Ah, Molly, coffee, thank you." He handed the phone back to John after snapping it shut. "What happened to the lipstick?" He questioned the new arrival.

"It wasn't working for me." She replied as she handed the mug over, sounding a little awkward talking to the him. Or perhaps it was just nerves that had overtaken her.

"Really? I thought it was a big improvement. Your mouth's too small now." He informed her as he walked back to his seat, making a funny gesture with his hand and taking a sip of coffee on his way.

"Ok." The woman muttered. Emily's jaw dropped to the floor. Was this woman really going to let someone talk to her like that? Was this woman only going to say 'Ok' and leave it at that. She would have said something herself if any words had occurred to her. It also didn't help that she was really not very good at talking to strangers, not unless they talked to her first, so she only smiled a little at the other woman as she made her way back to the door. In return, she received a timid smile, the cheeks of the woman had turned pink when she had been told her mouth was now 'too small' looking. Emily couldn't honestly blame her.

"How do you feel about the violin?" It seemed the stranger was asking no one in particular as he was too busy looking at whatever he was doing. Both John and Emily looked at the woman who was now making her exit from the room, before they turned to Mike who's smile had turned smug as he held a tube of what looked like blood in his hands.

"I'm sorry what?" John asked when he realised that he, along with Emily, were the one's being spoken to.

"I play the violin when I'm thinking." He answered as he continued typing. "Sometimes I don't talk for days on end. Would that bother either of you?" He looked round at the pair of them. "Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other." The smile he sent them was clearly false.

"Oh, you... you told him about us?" John asked Mike. But Emily didn't see how he could have. Since meeting John in the park, she hadn't seen or heard Mike talk to anyone on his phone, and she knew for a fact that he was still fairly unsure on how to use it, so she would certainly have noticed him texting.

"Not a word." Mike shook his head as if he had been expecting this reaction.

"Well, then who said anything about flatmates?" Emily spoke up now. It was usually whenever she was in a state of confusion that her shyness disappeared.

"I did. Told Mike this morning that I must be a difficult man to find a flatmate for. Now here he is just after lunch with an old friend, clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan. Wasn't that difficult leap." He answered as he put his coat on and tied his scarf securely around his neck. "I'm not just talking about you though, I'm talking about her as well. A not so old friend of Mike's who's had enough of living with her Mother." He added as if it was an after thought.

"How did you know about Afghanistan?"

"How did you know about my Mother?" They both questioned at the same time.

"Got my eye on a nice little place in central London. Together, the three of us ought to be able to afford it." He responded without glancing them, checking his phone instead before making his way towards them. "We meet there tomorrow evening; seven o' clock. Sorry- gotta dash. I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary." He said as he started to walk past them, heading for the door.

"Is that it?" John turned to look at him.

"Is that what?" The man took a few paces away from the door, closer to the pair.

"We've only just met and we're gonna go and look at a flat?" Emily couldn't quite believe it either.

"Problem?" He asked looking between the two of them. Emily looked over at Mike in disbelief, but Mike just sat and watched, as if the three people before him were part of an entertaining show that was about to end.

"We don't know a thing about each other; we don't know where we're meeting."

"And we don't even know you're name." Emily interrupted standing up straight.

The man looked closely at John for a moment before he started speaking. " I know you're an Army doctor and you've been invalided home from Afghanistan. I know you've got a brother who's worried about you but you won't go to him for help because you don't approve of him- possibly because he's an alcoholic; more likely because he recently walked out on his wife. And I know that your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic- quite correctly, I'm afraid."

For the second time that afternoon, Emily's jaw dropped as John shuffled his feet awkwardly. But he hadn't finished. "You." He said now, turning to her. "You're a Filing Clerk, have been for a while, but you're a bored filing clerk. You feel uncomfortable in those clothes but you wear them anyway so that you look smart for work. You don't get on at all with your Mother and you never have done." He stopped, but only because he was probably running out of breath.

"That's enough to be going on with, don't you think?" He asked them sounding smug, a smirk on his face that made him look even more attractive, before opening the door.

Emily finally found her voice to speak but was interrupted before she could even begin as the man looked back at them as he held the door open for himself.

"The name's Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221B Baker Street." He informed the pair of them, sending a wink at Emily before looking round at Mike. "Afternoon."

They watched as the door shut behind him, and his figure finally disappeared from the thin window. At the same time, they both turned their heads to Mike. The didn't need to ask him the question that was going through their minds.

"Yeah. He's always like that." He informed them.

"I'm sorry." Both of the remaining men focused on Emily. "Did he say he left his riding crop in the mortuary?" Mike giggled at her as he looked at his watch, trust Emily to focus on that.

"Don't you have to get back to work?" He pointed out to her.

She looked down at the watch on her wrist; a Christmas gift the first year she had been working here. To this day it was still a mystery to her. It had been sealed in a box, that had been wrapped beautifully in purple paper, it had almost been a shame to open it. But that, obviously, hadn't been the mystery. The mystery had been that she had no idea who had bought it for her. It came with no note, no card, nothing. It had been sat under the Christmas tree on Christmas day, patiently waiting for her. For a minute she had begun to believe in Santa Clause again, before she quickly realised that they had no fireplace. But it was a lovely watch. A silver face with the actual numbers instead of Roman numerals, held securely round her wrist by a silver strap. Not too big, or too small and neither was it too expensive. It was just perfect for her. Thus being the reason she only wore it to work; if she wore it anywhere else, it would more than likely get damaged within the first five minutes.

She had to do a double take before she actually acknowledged the time.

"Shit." She shouted, bringing John out of his daze. He had looked back at the door as if waiting for the man, Sherlock, to come back, no doubt wondering how the hell he had known that much about him and the girl next to him. "I've really got to go." She started walking backwards to the door speaking to John more than Mike. "Are you gonna to go tomorrow?" She asked him as her back came into contact with the door.

"Er, well-"

"Mike can you give him my number or something? I've really got to dash." She started feeling round for the handle.

"Sure." Mike nodded.

"It was nice meeting you John." She stepped away from the door and opened it as she moved.

"Likewise." He replied.

"Thanks for the sandwiches Mike." She shouted as she left the room, speed walking down the corridor before she remembered she had no idea which direction to go and spun on he heel back to the lab to get directions from Mike back to her office.

"Thanks again." She shouted as she left for the second time, the instructions fresh on her mind as she speeded up even more.

John watched as her figure too, disappeared from the window, before turning to Mike again.

"Yeah. She's always like that." Mike informed him with a hint of fondness laced into his tone. "Come on. Let's go get her number for you." He added before getting up put of his seat. He couldn't help but hope that they would go tomorrow.

BELIEVE IN SHERLOCK

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