A/N: First thing – thanks for the reviews! Zantetsuken, thanks for the offer! I'll probably be taking you up on it. Gypsy, thanks for the support! Next thing – I've decided to try a new writing style: mainly, I write short chapters more often. There are a few reasons for this – I find it a bit more interesting and I write this during class, so I write and post immediately. If you're hankering for longer chapters, please let me know. I love feedback, and constructive criticism.

Two years ago, as the warm breeze ruffled new grass and newly blossomed cherry trees filled the field with fragrant petals, Andrew Holmes purposefully ignored it. Long nose stuck in the latest book (Dan Brown, to be exact), Holmes was engrossed in his own world. He liked it this way, of course – the solitude seemed to fit him. Besides, Brown presented controversial theories that Holmes' logic couldn't help but dissect, piece by piece.

Jacket thrown upon a tree branch with the accompanying tie, he was comfortable and free of society's stuffy restraints. He ignored his appearance as well, with his black hair in his eyes and disheveled suit. To the Englanders, he was just another lazy twenty-something, but to Sabina Picard, he was a fascinating specimen of study.

"Andrew Holmes," she whispered under her breath as she pulled out that day's newspaper. Sure enough, Holmes was on the front page, under a headline that screamed something of a scandal. According to her logic, he must be a fascinating character, so she pulled out a much worn notebook and jotted her first impressions, romanticizing some facets while scientifically catching others. He would be her muse, she thought, and as she twirled a pen into her long blonde locks, she resolved to know him.

Just as Holmes was puzzling over female divinity, he slowly began feeling a change in environment. He turned his head…and jumped like someone had lit a firecracker under his bum. "What the…who are you!"

Sabina, who had been reading over his shoulder for a half an hour, told him as much and added, "Come and sit back down! I was just getting to the part about Mary! Good book, this one. American?"

"Well, yes, Dan Brown is an American, and actually…hey!" Holmes was a man easily sidetracked. "What kind of a loon reads over complete strangers' shoulders?"

"What kind of a loon doesn't notice for half an hour?"

"Touché. So, um…," he raked his fingers through his hair, screwed up his face in nervous indecision and eventually came out with, "What do you want?" Holmes grew used to all sorts of crazy once he became a local star of sorts, but after he did a small favor for the government, he turned into an international superstar, complete with screaming fan girls. The media knew no difference between the stars of CSI and real detectives, so they spared him no publicity. His face covering every magazine, Holmes was hailed the hottie of the British nation. Apparently, girls couldn't resist his penetrating blue-gray eyes. The journalists became a problem as well, as each wanted the exclusive scoop to this handsome, private and complex man. Noting the pen in Sabina's hair, his spirits immediately fell. "If you're a journalist, I'm not talking."

"Actually, I'm more of the fiction type." She stuck her hand out, boldly. "Sabina Picard." He grasped it, warily. "Are you opposed to a few questions?"

He sighed. If he said yes, then he would be hounded for the rest of the day, and if he said no, there was annoyance. Either way, the solitude was broken. "No. Ask away."

And ask she did, rapid fire. Question after specific question, Sabina created a profile, scribbling away in her notebook furiously in an unintelligible short hand. She smiled to herself in the knowledge that this Andrew would be her next mystery star. While she grilled him for gritty details of unspecific cases (confidentiality agreements allowed for no names), Sabina played up his looks – gorgeous enough to make a woman swoon, but cases with grit enough to attract a male audience as well. The best of both worlds, best seller material. Little did she know, she would get exactly the fandom she desired with consequences neither could dream of.