Here's the newest update, though it's a bit shorter than I would prefer, but at least it's here! And this was literally typed out and published, no extra wiggle room to really review, so forgive me! And I want to also thank my lovely two reviewers so far- you both are lovely~!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of BBC, CBS, or Doyle's Sherlock characters or plots or lines(that will be alluded to.)

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The Arrangement

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"You know, you really didn't have to come with me." John told his newest companion as they sat together in the back of one of New York's yellow cabs. "It's out of your way isn't it? Plus aren't you still looking for David?"

After the initial meeting with the police was finally finished, John was excused from work to head home to collect his things from his apartment which was now a designated "crime scene." Sherlock never left with the other detectives. He decided-all on his own- that he would accompany John back to his place instead of the officers Detective Gregson had offered. John had tried to argue this, but someone had to be with him "just in case," or so they told him. Honestly, he might be mildly depressed, but that doesn't make him helpless. He was a trained soldier and that in itself would be enough protection for him. But he did have to admit, listening to Sherlock deduce the life stories of those they drove past in the streets did prove mildly entertaining.

"Nonsense, I know enough that David Blakely will be afforded no such protections from Brookston. With the warrant out he should be in police custody by late this evening- the police here can't be that useless. Once in custody he will submit to the typical emotions of betrayal and revenge and will sell out his old partner to the force in a plea bargain." Sherlock told John rather simply.

"Well, you have that all thought out haven't you." John, who by now was becoming accustomed to the rapid-fire deductions, just nodded his head.

"It didn't require that much effort of thought at all. I wonder how it must really be for you people to have to struggle over juvenile crimes like these."

"Well Sherlock, not all of us can be a "proper genius" like yourself."

"Obviously." The brunette nodded in agreement, choosing to ignore the sarcasm in his companions tone. "But now that I have cleared this all up, well, that leaves me free time to assist you in your move Dr. Watson."

"Please, I told you already, its John." The young doctor waved away the formality and turned his gaze from an attractive blonde at the cross walk to the detective next to him. "And that's a whole other thing isn't it." John began to explain to him. "I don't have anywhere to move too just yet. New York is pricy, and I still have to save up my salaries to pay off other debts of mine too. I don't have much with me, so it should only take a few boxes to pack it all up." John sighed in exasperation as he sank lower into the faux leather interior of the taxi. With all that had happened he really hadn't thought about all the problems that moving on such a short notice would cause him. He couldn't ask anyone at work, most of his friends were married or also sharing rent- there'd be no point in asking as there wouldn't enough room for him. The only option was really getting a hotel, but that was only a short-term solution for a perpetually long-term problem. He couldn't afford having to alter his budget to fit in hotel fees on top of everything else. With all of these thoughts rushing through his head, it is easily understandable about how he missed that Sherlock had apparently been talking to him.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes at John's apparent lack of attention before he spoke again. "I said I play the violin when I'm thinking and sometimes I don't talk to days on end."

John stared blankly for a moment at this random statement. "Good for you…and why are you telling me all this again?"

"Well roommates should know the worst about each other right?" Sherlock's phone signaled a text alert, and the next moment he was too busy with typing out whatever response to see the shocked expression cross John's face.

"I'm sorry, what? Roommates? Now where did all this come from?" John sputtered out, this man was moving too fast and though John could say he seemed decent enough, he really didn't know him at all.

"Well it is partially my fault that you no longer have a home," Sherlock told him as he typed away on his phone. "It was my network that discovered his new residence, though at the time we didn't know he was sharing. Police will cord off the place, and even if you can move back in when they're through with it you won't be able to afford it all on your own. At least, not at that location and price, that is why you had a roommate to begin with after all." Sherlock frowned at his mobile and paused before typing out another rapid-fire response. "I have a room upstairs that no one is using and it can get rather dull talking to the skull…" the detective seemed to have finished with whoever he was texting as he placed his phone back into his coat pocket. "So, obviously logic dictates that you move in with me for the time being."

"You just expect me to move in with you then? We hardly know each other." John told him.

"I know that your brother is concerned for you, but you don't get along well with him, possibly because he's an alcoholic or because he's recently left his wife." It took a moment for it to register, but finally John's brain was prompted to reply.

"And how would you know all that then? I haven't even mentioned anything about my family or trust issues."

"Your phone." The taller man held out his hand for the specified device and John fished it out of his jacket pocket to give it to the waiting appendage.

"Now, your phone. It's expensive, e-mail enabled, MP3 player. And you've been living with a roommate. You wouldn't buy this - it's a gift. 'Scratches. Not one, many over time - it's been in the same pocket as keys and coins. You wouldn't treat your one luxury item like this, so it's had a previous owner. Next bit's easy. You know it already." The smug look on his face was bluntly obvious; he was enjoying this too much.

"Oh, the engraving?"

"Yes, Harry Watson. Clearly a family member who's given you his old phone. Not your father, this is a young man's gadget. Could be a cousin, but you're a war hero who can't find a place to live - unlikely you've got an extended family, not one you're close to. So brother it is. Now, who's Clara? The expense of the phone says wife, not girlfriend. Must have given it to him recently, its only six months old. Marriage in trouble then - six months on he's given it away. If she'd left HIM, he would have kept it. Sentiment. No, he wanted rid of it. He left HER. He gave the phone to you, so he wants you to stay in touch. You're looking for cheap accommodation, but you're not going to your brother for help - that says you've got problems with him. Maybe you liked his wife, or don't like his drinking."

John ran his hand across the face as he was nearly overcome by the quick-fire deductions. He really needed sleep; he was too tired for this. "How can you possibly know about the drinking?" He questioned, letting out an exasperated breath.

Sherlock smirked grew triumph at John's last question. "Shot in the dark. Good one, though. Power connection - tiny little scuffmarks round it. Every night he plugs it in but his hands are shaking. You never see those marks on a sober man's phone, never see a drunk's without them."

They sat in silence for a moment, there was no obvious unease in the atmosphere, and so far John hadn't appeared to be normal like all the others out in the world.

"You know you really are ridiculous, you know that?" The blonde gave him a rather pointed look.

"Really now?" Sherlock raised an elegant eyebrow at the accusation.

"You got all of that from just glancing at my phone when I checked it earlier. That couldn't have been more than what, fifteen seconds? That is just amazing." Sherlock looked very smug at the compliment, but soon deflated with John's next statement. "But you weren't right about everything."

Sherlock looked positively aghast at his companion, and John decided that this look was definitely the most amusing thing he'd seen all day. "What did I miss? Everything was spot on!" Sherlock argued- his logic had been flawless, what had he missed?

"Harry..." John smiled as he looked out the window, remembering the owner of the name as he spoke. "...is short for Harriet."

"Harry is your sister? Of course! There is always some form of nonsense like that isn't there." he muttered as the cab finally arrived at their destination.

~~~~~oOo~~~~~

Turns out he was right when he said that packing up his things wouldn't taken long at all. The apartment had been cleaned out- most of the things John was used to seeing scattered about the place was now done away with to be most likely bagged as evidence. John's room in comparison to the rest of the place still looked relatively untouched; although, if he knew that New York's finest would be coming through he would have made more of an effort to pick up. He looked across at all the numerous articles of clothing scattered across the floor and on his bed-which was still made up since he hadn't had a chance to actually sleep in it for days. His medical texts and articles were stacked precariously on his desk in the corner next to his laptop.

"Well, I guess I should get started then." John let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding as he'd contemplated the disaster that was his room. He walked over to his closet where he had his suitcases and bags from when he'd first moved in. He decided that he'd take all of his major items; clothes, books, and the like, but he could trash the rest and worry about replacing them later.

"Sorry, but this might take a while and you-." John turned around to find Sherlock already at his desk where he was already busying himself with packing away books.

"What are you doing?"

"Helping. These sorts of things do move more quickly when more than one person is at it." Sherlock stated as he paused to glance curiously at whatever text was in his hand.

"But you don't need to do all that. And where did you get that box from?"

"I know I don't have to, but this way you now owe me." The younger man sent him a cheeky grin, boxing the book while reaching for another. "As for the box, I texted in some help for your move."

"What are you on about now?"

Before anything else could be said, four teenaged boys walked right into his room. They were wearing oversized clothes and jackets, and if John didn't know any better he'd think these youths were dropouts. They each carried boxes with them and, after sending a cheery greeting to John, went about packing up John's room in a systematic manner. John motioned for Sherlock to come over before he whispered franticly at him.

"Sherlock, what are these kids doing here! They should be in school and- and what are you laughing about?"

"John, these kids don't go to school, they're homeless." Looks like John didn't know any better.

"Why on earth do you have homeless kids owing you a favor?"

"They're part of my network- in exchange for small favors I give them small rewards. It's a very justified working system John."

Said man just pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to remember what normalcy felt like. He checked his watch; it was now nearing eight at night. Was it barely sixteen hours ago that he left for work, totally clueless that by the end of the day he would be evicted by New York's finest and left to be assisted by a British genius and his network of homeless youths? He couldn't deal with this, he needed sleep.

"I know you do John, but as soon as we finish up here you can sleep for as long as you like." Sherlock turned away to now supervise the packing of John's residence. Great, now he was so tired he was speaking without even meaning too.

"I'll sleep after I find some place to go, you mean." John corrected him as he went over to his drawers to begin packing his suitcase.

"I thought we settled this, you're moving to 221B Baker Street." His voice left no room for argument, but John at this point was beyond caring.

"No, you might have settled it, but not me. I can't just move in with you like that. I don't know anything about you other than you are a genius Consultant Detective who also happens to play the violin." John returned.

Sherlock sighed before dropping the medical text he had been holding before grabbing John by the upper arm and gently led him from the room. "What could you possibly need to know more about me John?"

"Well…" John couldn't really think of anything specific now. "Why are you here, in New York I mean."

Sherlock stared at him hard for a moment before shaking his head. "Topic off limits, sorry." Before John could offer any protests Sherlock decided to return the question. "What about you? You were shot in the left shoulder back in Afghanistan, but now you have a clean bill of health yet you were still discharged. What was it that triggered your depression?"

"You know I won't answer that." John stood straighter as he quelled the emotion threatening to rise from the still vivid images in his mind.

"Exactly my point. There are some subjects that are best left untouched- why dwell in the past while we are trying to decide for the present and future?"

Silence reigned supreme after that; the only sound was that of John's belongings still being packed away by members of Sherlock's "homeless network."

It was John who finally decided to break the silence as he sought to put their earlier conversation back on trick. "Any friends then?" He tried.

"No." The silence was still there, so John's sleep deprived mind began to supply nonsense for him to say next.

"Boyfriends, girlfriends? Either is totally fine of course."

"Of course it's fine, but no, I have no time for that. I consider myself married to my work." Sherlock turned to John again and cut him off before the blonde could continue his babbling. "Now, anything else? I'll add that I'm also not a murderer, drug dealer, or thief you need to worry about."

"Do people normally assume you are?" John raised a blonde brow, but only got a shrug in response. "Well, I wasn't worried about that. I mean, you do work with the police after all."

There was a pause and John shifted uncomfortably. Admittedly, there wasn't a reason why he couldn't move in with Sherlock. Plus he really needed to find a place fast.

"What's the rent like then?" if it was too much to pay then that would solve the problem all in itself.

"No rent Doctor." Sherlock stated smartly.

"Hold on, what do you mean no rent?" John asked quickly.

"The building is owned by my brother, all bought and paid for. There will be no need for you to pay rent to a building that I am now in possession of."

"But I won't just free-load off you like that." John had pride, and he wouldn't allow for that at all. "I'll only stay if I can pay the rent or if we come to some other arrangement."

The taller male looked at John and once more those piercing blue eyes ran over him with scrutiny. "Well then," he finally answered. "Maybe an arrangement could be made- you do owe me a favor now after all John." Said man recognized that gleam that suddenly grew in the other's eyes. Sherlock had an idea, and now it was only a matter of how well John was going to take it.

"You're an army doctor." Sherlock now appeared to be done analyzing him. "Any good?"

John nodded, not knowing where this was going. "Very good."

"I bet you've seen a lot of injuries, then. Violent deaths."

"John, there's nothing you can do, we've gotta go now. John…! …Watson get out of there!"

"John?" Sherlock looked at him curiously as he waited for a reply.

John cleared his throat before answering. "Yes."

"Bit of trouble too, I bet?"

"Of course… Yes. Enough for a lifetime, far too much." He nodded, though more to himself than his companion.

"Would you like to see some more?"

It was not what John was expecting him to ask. "What?"

"When I'm out on cases I need an assistant. Most of the ones the force provides are useless and won't work well with me. You, on the other hand, my dear Dr. Watson are the perfect solution."

"I don't know about that Sherlock, I mean, I'm not much of a detective." John ran his hand through his already ruffled blonde locks.

"You won't have to be, that's why I'm there. What you'll be is my assistant, a medical consultant right on the scene and a valuable asset I could use." Sherlock's eyes danced with the possibility of having someone who wasn't as dreadfully average as those he'd been forced to work with so far.

"So I live with you, and instead of rent I'd be offering you my assistance instead?" John had to make sure he was getting this right. "But what about the job I already have? I'm on call nearly twenty-four hours, I won't be able to just drop my scalpel and go whenever you need me."

Sherlock gave him a look that screamed "boring excuse" before he answered. "You mean that job you hate?"

"Hey, I never said I hated my job. I do a lot of important things you know- I help people. That's why I wanted to be a doctor." John was affronted by the other's tactless statement, but he wouldn't admit the other was right. He loved helping others and caring for patients, but he missed the action of the front lines, being able to save a young man's life where it really mattered. Saving a soldiers life had real meaning to it, knowing that he was involved in keeping his country safe. There just wasn't that same kind of pride when he just worked lumbar vertebral body replacements; though, he wouldn't let Sherlock know this of course.

"How about this," Sherlock ran a hand through his own dark curls before looking back to John. "You live in Baker Street, rent free, while you search for a new residence. With this housing market I doubt you'll find any place soon and you don't want to start collecting hotel bills. While you work for me, take leave from work. Get a feel for what a real difference you could make again out in the real world, John, while not being stuck in a surgery all day. If the time comes and you find a better offer you can leave and go back to the mundane life you claim to love so much. But don't forget John, you're still a soldier; and I know that you can't walk these streets without seeing the battlefield."

John now glanced around at what had been his life for the past six months. It was true- life had been full of long hours of work and minimal hours of rest. He honestly hadn't even been around to even the most common tourists traps of the Big Apple because he'd been so busy with work. …Maybe he did need a change of pace.

"So I'll just be your assistant then? On these cases? You work pretty fast Sherlock, how do you know that I won't slow you down?"

"You'd be my colleague John, and if you ever get to slow I'll just leave you and text you where to catch up." It was an honest enough response.

John thought about it for another few moments as Sherlock waited patiently. John sighed, resigned to the fact of how this decision would have definite implications in the future. Before he could answer though, there was a knock at the door before a policemen entered.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Dr. Watson, but are you almost finished packing? We need to get you moved out so we can close the scene for final sweeping."

"Yes, I'm just about done here, we'll be out of your way momentarily." He promised. The officer nodded before leaving the room once again.

"Well, John, have you made up your mind?"

John turned to look at his new companion before realizing that Sherlock already knew his answer. John shrugged his shoulders before turning to go back to his room to finalize the packing so they could get out of there.

"You win, let's go on to Baker Street."

~~~~~oOo~~~~~

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end

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Now I'm going to try to keep the characters mostly in-tacked here, but there will be tweaks. Sherlock obviously is a picky people person here, I tried a cross between CBS & BBCs two characters so I hope this is an equal balance. Plus I did include some of the more important lines from A Study in Pink- and script/line copying won't happen that much I promise! I just really thought that those first deductions are really important so I wanted to include them.

So there goes the end of chapter 3, I hope y'all have enjoyed it thus far, but then again I don't really know! Now I'm going to be busy, and well, I don't know when next I'll post again. Thank you for reading thus far, and hope to hear from you soon!