John Watson limped out of the taxi and went up to the door of the house. As he raised his hand to knock, another taxi pulled up. Squish got out one side and Sherlock the other. "Ah, Mr Holmes" said John
"Sherlock, please"
replied the taller man, as he walked towards the door. Squish smiled at him as she climbed up steps. John coughed nervously,
"So." he said "Central London, must be expensive?"
Sherlock turned from the door and smiled ghoulishly
"Oh, Mrs Hudson, the landlady, she's giving us a special deal. Owes us a favour. A few years back, her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help out." John stood stockstill for a moment,
"Sorry, you stopped her husband being
Again John stood still. The girl seemed to realise that John was feeling overwhelmed, she smiled again, but this time it seemed to light her up.
"Don't worry he deserved it and Mrs Hudson much better without him"
The door opened and an elderly woman wearing bright clothing was revealed. Sherlock quickly stepped into her embrace and the quickly out of it again. Squish hugged her for much longer and pecked her on the cheek before turning to present John to her.
"Mrs Hudson, this is Dr John Watson. He's come about sharing the flat."
"Oh hello, I've been wondering about whether we would find anyone, it's this way" She said.
Sherlock had already bounded up a flight of stairs, and was now unlocking a door. Squish walked slowly up the stairs with John, walking slow enough that he could hobble along next to her, but discreetly. As john reached the first floor she held the door for him and he briefly wondered where she got her manners from, if she had been solely brought up by Sherlock whose manners seem to be limited. She noticed him staring at her and said
"He can be quite charming when he wants to be but I've had help with preparing myself for the world."
John nodded, and stepped inside the flat.
The living room was full of folders and boxes that seemed to have vomited their contents onto every available surface. There were a few armchairs dotted about positioned in front of a television with a sofa opposite a large window. Furniture seemed to be thrown about at random and not ordered in anyway. There were books at random and what appeared to be a skull on the mantelpiece. John looked around again
"Well, this could be very nice. Very nice indeed." Sherlock smiled.
"I thought so, so I went and moved in". At the same moment that John said
"Once we get this rubbish is moved!"
He could feel himself blushing; luckily Mrs Hudson then said
"What do you think, then, Doctor Watson? There's another bedroom upstairs, if you need it"
"Mrs H, of course John will need it" said Squish "Now um… why don't you go downstairs and catch the last 15 minutes of that makeover show you like"
"That's a wonderful idea. Just let me know about the flat, won't you dear just so I know" With that she descended the stairs in a cloud of perfume. At this point Sherlock turned shouted over his shoulder, "Don't touch the fingernails" and disappeared upstairs.
The girl turned to John "Mrs Hudson's becoming a little obsessed with that ghastly Connie Prince woman; I don't understand the appeal myself. Sorry can I offer you a cuppa?"
John gave a little smile, "Yes please, I take it…" Squish held up a hand,
"Milk and one sugar, I know. Take a seat, move anything, we barely know where everything is anything is anyway."
John moved a few folders onto a coffee table in the process of which a few sheets of paper fell onto to the floor. "A study of Tobacco Ash?" he read aloud, on the sheets were several diagrams showing the scatter pattern of various tobaccos.
"Yep" said Squish carrying over two mugs of tea, "It's Sherlock's pet project, though he really doesn't understand why no one seems interested in it" she smiled as she passed over the hot mug. John took a sip. Damn that was a good cup of tea. He looked around the room, his gaze alighting on the skull. Squish caught his gaze and looked at the skull too.
"He's called Hamish and he's surprisingly good company"
"He's. I mean, it's, a skull"
"It's talk to the skull or sit in silence sometimes. When Sherlock's thinking or sulking it can be silent in here, talking to the skull's preferable." John stared at her in disbelief.
"This is all normal for you isn't it? Talking to skulls, hanging out in a morgue, that's normal"
Squish laughed at his disbelief.
"Of course this is normality for me, I was adopted by Sherlock when I was two days old, I don't know any other kind of normality."
John shook his head in exasperation.
"But surely you go to school? Have friends come over? Anything like that?"
"Not really. I was home-schooled to a certain extent and I have a tutor on a Wednesday morning, but that's Sherlock's brother not Sherlock's doing. He would be quite happy just to leave me too it I think. Anyway, imagine someone normal in this chaos. But I do have friends. And a job, well two jobs if you count what I and Sherlock do"
John raised his eyebrows.
"What is it that you do exactly? I don't understand what you do in a mortuary that isn't medical"
Squish raised her mug and took a long draught of tea. She swallowed and looked at John through her eyelashes.
"Sherlock is the world's first consulting detective. That means that the police come and ask for his opinion on crime scenes, people ask him to solve their problems things like that."
"That's not possible; the police don't consult normal people."
Squish smiled again, but more cynically this time.
"We aren't normal" she said.