I'm sorry it took so long for me to update but I hope you'll like the fifth chapter! The story will begin for real now :) please review! :) xx
I'll begin this chapter with a short summary of what have happened through the years... :
Nine years has passed and Sherlock's twenty six years old. He is now working as a private detective and have his own business, and he is still living at 221B with Mrs. Hudson. Sometimes Lestrade calls him for help (just like the TV-series) He is still in contact with Mycroft but not as much as before. They haven't met each other for nine years and Sherlock have no idea where Mycroft are, as the elder brother refuses to tell him. This has caused Sherlock to be more cold and introvert, he is not the same as he was nine years ago. He mostly spends his time at 221B or at cases with Lestrade. Sherlock haven't been in his wolf form for a while either, which has caused his personality to change even more. If you have any questions, please tell me. :)
The sun was shining through the big window at 221B, which caused the warm rays to stroke the detective's sleeping face, much to his dislike. He wrinkled his face and slowly opened his blue eyes to meet the beautiful, sunny day outside. Sherlock rolled his eyes, thinking a beautiful day was pathetic and turned away from the light window and put a pillow over his pale face. He hated the sun, he hated warm weather and he hated being outside.
"Sherlooock! You need to get up!" Mrs. Hudson called from downstairs and Sherlock growled once again, he didn't feel like going out today. Actually, he didn't feel like going out any day. Being outside bored him and being here at 221B bored him. He was only feeling somewhat happy when he were on cases but unfortunately, the cases wasn't always that interesting. Interesting cases only happened once in a while and Sherlock wished they could happen more often. The thought of finding a mate had struck him often these 9 years that had passed since he got the appointment, but he hadn't found anyone yet. He had been in the most central parts of London, seeking the one that made all werewolves loose themselves and instead, it was the one that made them whole and functioning, but he hadn't found anyone that made him feel like that and he highly doubted that anyone would want to be with him.
"Sherloooock!" Mrs. Hudson shrieked which caused Sherlock to wake up from his many thoughts. He got up from the bed, dressed in his white sheet and slowly walked down the stairs. He said a feebly "hi" to Mrs. Hudson when he met her at the stairs and she smiled at him, as always. Sherlock continued his way to the living room, only to slump down on another place than his bed.
"Boreeed..." he yawned while staring up at the ceiling.
"No luck in finding a case?" Mrs. Hudson asked from the doorway, coming in with tea and scones to them.
"No, and no mate either." Sherlock grunted and closed his eyes while he brought his hands together to a prayer-like gesture. A year ago, Sherlock had told Mrs. Hudson about his secret, that he was part human - part wolf and he had transformed into his other part right in front of her eyes. She had gotten a little shocked first but then she said that she always had believed that he was different, but that she would always be there for him whatever creature he was. Since that day, the two of them were as close as a mother and her child.
"Sherlock please." Mrs. Hudson said. "You have been in town for how many times? Two or three times the last two years? You got give it another chance and go out and search more!"
"Search more? Why? I don't care about our species, I have never done and I'll never do. I went to London for Mycroft's sake, not my own." Sherlock sighed, opened his eyes and looked at her with a sharp look.
"Sherlock..." Mrs. Hudson said, now with a "please don't say this"- voice and looked worriedly at him. "I know that you don't care right now but I'm more than hundred percent sure that you will regret not finding a mate later. In a few years, when you're older, you will see other humans with kids, you will envy them and hate yourself for not making your bloodline continue going. Imagine yourself, sitting here thirty years later all by yourself, without a husband or wife, without a child, without someone that shares the same blood as you and abilities at you. Doesn't that make you sad?" she asked and looked at him with warm, caring eyes.
Sherlock opened his mouth to say something but he closed it again. The gears inside his head went into higher gear.
Sure I would be alone, I am now, aren't I? I don't suffer with being alone. Why would I envy Walking Meat? I have never done it before. Why would I want to have a lacing, screaming, pooping baby? I hate babies, they are annoying. A husband? Wife? Why? They are just there for being company, having sex and they will just cost money. I'm not interested in that kind of stuff. - he thought for himself. He opened his mouth and said everything he had thought of to Mrs. Hudson. The elder woman sighed and shook her head and said:
"Sherlock... You will understand all these things when you're getting a mate. I promise, I've been in the same situation as you." she said and poured tea in their cups and served him.
Sherlock snorted to her reply and gritted his teeth.
"I will never understand those sort of things because I have no interest in it." he growled and sat up. He drank his tea and ate a scone quickly before going into the shower, thinking over everything that Mrs. Hudson had told him. He doubted her words, he was fine with what he had now even though he got bored time to time, but at the same time, he knew deep inside that he had to find a mate, no matter what...
–
When he got out from the shower, Mrs. Hudson met him in the doorway with a big smile on her face. Sherlock deduced that she had come up with some idea, probably a ridiculous one which he wasn't going to pay any attention to.
"Yes?" he asked and looked at Mrs. Hudson. She looked like she was about to explode if she wasn't going to tell it soon.
"I have come up with a-" she started but Sherlock broke in. "I know. Idea. Out with it." he said calmly while drying his curly locks with a towel.
"I know the easiest way to find a mate for you." she said and her eyes tingled with excitement.
"U huh?" Sherlock said, still waiting.
"Get yourself a flatmate!" she said and her whole face lighted up. Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows.
"Flatmate?" he said and gave her a gaze that told her that she had said the most dumbest thing in the world.
"Yes, a flatmate." she said.
"Flatmate?" he asked again. "Why?"
"Becauseee... – he or she can live here with you, you will get to know each other better by doing so and he or she can keep you company on your cases! That's great, isn't it?" she beamed.
"Why would anyone want to have me for a flatmate? Why would anyone want to go on cases with me? Seriously Mrs. Hudson, this is an ridiculous idea." Sherlock sighed and hung up the towel back in the bathroom.
"Why wouldn't anyone want to have you as a flatmate? Don't underestimate yourself Sherlock. You are a wonderful person and I'm sure your potential mate will think the same about you." she said, certain that her idea was a very good one.
"No." Sherlock snorted and waved with his hand as he was trying to chase away the idea, like a fly.
"Why not? I think you should give it a try Sherlock!" she said, and with that said, Sherlock's phone started ringing.
"Case!" he spat out happily and immediately ran up to his room and answered his phone.
"Molly need you to come to the morgue at St. Barts, she is having a hard time to examine a body." Lestrade's warm voice said and Sherlock felt his excitement die down.
"Boring." Sherlock replied and closed the call but Lestrade knew Sherlock was going there anyway. Sherlock himself thought he could have use a couple of nice riding crop whipping.
"How fresh?" Sherlock asked as he sniffed at the dead body.
"Just in. 67, natural causes. Used to work here. I knew him! He was nice." Molly replied, walking around in the room, watching Sherlock looking at the dead body.
"Fine, we will start with the riding crop." Sherlock said with a smug smile and started whipping the dead body furiously while Molly watched him from another room. After a little while, Molly came back in the morgue and walked to Sherlock.
"So, bad day, was it?" she asked with a laugh.
"I need to know what bruises form in the next 20 minutes. A man's alibi depends on it. Text me." Sherlock replied quickly while looking through a notebook and noting something in it.
"Listen, I was wondering. Maybe later when you're finished..." Molly started but Sherlock immediately interrupted her.
"You're wearing lipstick. You weren't wearing lipstick before." he said and Molly stared at him with big eyes.
"I, er... I refreshed it a bit." she replied with a embarrassed smile. Sherlock sighed inside his head, he didn't want to go on a date or something similar with this nervous, shy little girl.
"Sorry you were saying?" he asked, preparing not to have heard what she said and started writing in his notebook again.
"I was wondering if you'd like to have coffee." Molly said nervously and Sherlock could smell the endorphins coming from her, it made him sick. He decided he would make the best of the situation and agree to have a coffee with her.
"Black, two sugars, please. I'll be upstairs." he replied and left the morgue. He could hear Molly almost whisper a nervous "OK".
Sherlock was experimenting with something in the lab when someone suddenly knocked on the door. He turned his gaze to the door and saw a short man with a cane and Mike Stamford coming into the room. Sherlock gave the shorter man another look and drew his smell deep into his lungs and suddenly, something stirred inside of him. He couldn't put a finger on what it was but he knew right out of the blue that everything in his whole world, his whole life, his whole being now was in this man's hands. He knew that he wanted this man to be his flatmate. Everything around him started to spin and he was about to faint, but he had to straight himself up and mask his emotions, he couldn't show whatever it was he felt so he sat down on the chair and returned to his work.
"Mike, can I borrow your phone? There is no signal on mine." he said carelessly, trying not to look at the shorter man.
"And what's wrong with the landline?" Mike asked and looked at Sherlock with a questioning gaze.
"I prefer to text." Sherlock replied and he felt the shorter man's gaze on him. He felt like freaking out but he managed to keep his mask.
"Sorry it's in my coat." Mike said and Sherlock furrowed his brows, his plan was blown.
"Er, here... use mine." the shorter man suddenly said and put his hand in his pocket to take out his phone. Sherlock's heartbeat sped up and he got a little dizzy. Sherlock turned his gaze to the shorter man and said:
"Oh, thank you." as calmly as he could, then he raised up from his chair to take the phone.
"This is an old friend of mine, John Watson." Mike said and pointed at this little man called John. Sherlock started walking to John and his legs felt like jelly. John gave Sherlock a faked smile and handed him the phone. Sherlock opened the phone and asked:
"Afghanistan or Iraq?"
"Sorry?" John asked and Sherlock could smell his confusion.
"Which was it, in Afghanistan or Iraq?" Sherlock repeated and looked at John, his flat mask almost falling apart when he looked into the shorter man's eyes. They broke eye contact and Sherlock started typing on the phone. John looked at Mike and Mike gave him a silly smile.
"Afghanistan. Sorry, how did you...?" John started but got interrupted by Molly coming into the room with coffee. Sherlock felt relieved and his heart calmed down a little by seeing the endorphin stinking woman.
"Ah, Molly, coffee, thank you." Sherlock said while trying to suppress his relief and handed back the phone to John.
"What happened to the lipstick?" Sherlock asked Molly and Molly looked embarrassed.
"It wasn't working for me." she said and John listened at the conversation while putting his phone back in his jacket.
"Really? I thought it was a big improvement. Your mouth is too small now." Sherlock said, waving a little with his hands and drinking his coffee as he walked back to his experiment table.
"Okay..." Molly said with a high pitched voice.
Sherlock took a sip of his coffee before putting the mug on the table.
"How do you feel about the violin?" he asked to John but the shorter man didn't seem to understand that the question was directed to him. Molly went out from the room and Mike looked at the two men, smirking.
"I'm sorry, what?" John asked confused and Sherlock almost squealed.
"I play the violin when I'm thinking and sometimes I don't talk for days on end. Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other." he said with a goofy smile and looked at John. John looked confused and looked at Mike.
"You... You told him about me?" he asked Mike.
"Not a word." Mike replied with a shake of his head, he seemed to enjoy this very much.
"Then who said anything about flatmates?" John asked, somewhat irritated and looked back at Sherlock.
"I did. Told Mike this morning I must be a difficult man to find a flatmate for." Sherlock said while dressing himself in his jacket. "Now here he is, just after lunch, with an old friend clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan. Wasn't a difficult leap." Sherlock said and turned around to meet John's gaze and putting his scarf around his neck.
"How did you know about Afghanistan?" John asked not so irritated, more curious Sherlock could tell by the way he was standing and his more softened expression.
"Got my eye on a nice little place in central London. We ought to be able to afford it." Sherlock said and looked at his phone. "We will meet there tomorrow evening, seven o'clock. Sorry got to dash. I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary." Sherlock said, coming up with some fast idea to get away as soon as possible from John and walked to the door to leave the room.
"Is that it?" John asked and turned around to look at Sherlock.
"Is that what?" Sherlock asked and stopped, turned around and walked to the opposite John, putting his hands into his pockets.
"We've only just met and we're going to go and look at a flat?" John asked, highly confused and somewhat annoyed. Sherlock thought it was obvious, why did John find it so weird?
"Problem?" he asked and John turned away his face with a big smile and a small chuckle.
"We don't know a thing about each other. I don't know where we're meeting. I don't even know your name." John stated.
"I know you're an army doctor and you've been invalided home from Afghanistan. You've got a brother 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 your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic, quite correctly, I'm afraid. That's enough to be going on with, don't you think?" Sherlock asked with a smile and hoped with his whole being that John wouldn't be scared of his power of deducing. He walked to the door and was about to leave when he quickly looked out from behind the door and said:
"The name's Sherlock Holmes, and the address is 221B Baker street." he winked with his left eye. "Afternoon!" he said to Mike and John before closing the door after him.
John looked at Mike with a shocked expression and Mike nodded.
"He is always like that." the man said and John swung his head to the door and stared at it, while supporting himself on his crutch. "This is going to be interesting..." John thought.
Sherlock came home and when he had closed the door behind him, he screamed out in joy and jumped.
"Sherlock?" Mrs. Hudson called from the living room and Sherlock hurried his way over there.
"I've find myself a flatmate! And... I think he is the destined mate for me!" Sherlock said joyfully and explained the whole meeting with John and how he had felt. He also told her that John would come to 221B tomorrow. Mrs. Hudson got up from the couch and hugged him tightly.
"I'm so happy for you Sherlock..." she whispered and Sherlock hugged her back.
"Thank you so much for telling me about this whole flatmate idea, it's brilliant!" Sherlock said and smiled at her. Mrs. Hudson chuckled and stroke Sherlock's cheek carefully. "No problem Sherlock. I said it would be good." she said and Sherlock nodded approvingly. He couldn't wait until tomorrow.