Hello! Many, many thanks to my reviewer Edhla – I was thinking the same thing about the kiss but I decided to do it anyway because:

1/ I just re-watched the first series and Sherlock touches/kisses/hugs on Mrs. Hudson so much I was starting to get creeped out.

2/ ACD wrote the Sherlock/Violet attraction into the original I'm bound to follow, but our modern-day SH is hardly the type to fall for a pretty face. Therefore I had to find something they connected on besides sex, which belongs to Irene Adler.

3/ I don't believe he is The Virgin everyone wants to think he is, nor do I think he's gay. I think he values relationships when he finds people he considers worthy of his time – male, female, alien, vegetable – doesn't matter as long as the brain is there.

Chapter 3: The Dance Begins

Doc W: Hello Violet! Just making sure texts get through to you way up north!

V: LOL! Taxi pulling up to the place now.

V: Wow. Look up "haunted house" in the dictionary and I bet there's a photo of this place. Frankenstein and the Mrs. may greet me at the door.

Doc W: That's actually a celebrated period of English architecture – Early Horror.

V: Wonderful. Is it too late to change my mind?

DOC W: Settled?

V: As I can be. These people seriously put the fun in dysfunctional.

DOC W: LOL! We are only a few hours away, remember.

V: He doesn't leave the house for less than a 7, remember.

DOC W: For you he would.

DOC W: BTW, he hasn't stopped playing that damn violin since you left. I'm about ready to smash it against the nearest wall.

V: Music is good for the soul.

DOC W: So is therapeutic demolition.

DOC W: Seriously though, I think you hit him where no woman has before. In the violin.

V: Very funny, Doc. He just needs a case.

DOC W: We have work… he'd just prefer the crimes to be, well, more appalling.

V: Only Sherlock would complain about a murder being too vanilla…

SH: John tells me you arrived without incident.

V: Yes. Sorry - I didn't want to bother you.

SH: ?

V: Texting. I know you're busy.

SH: As it happens, I don't have a case right now.

SH: Well, not an interesting one.

SH: Before I die of boredom, tell me what you see – describe it.

V: I could send a photo….

SH: Boring.

V: Ok. Jeez.

V: Welcome to the Rucastle Family Ballroom. It's massive - you could park an 18-wheeler in here and still have room to do the Macarena.

V: Not much furniture - just a few sofas and a concert grand by one of the windows. Marble floor, high ceilings – all the charm of a mortuary but fantastic acoustics!

V: There's a piano in practically every room in this place, but this is my favorite - Steinway Model D. An outstanding instrument. I play here for a few hours in the morning while Prince Eddie's at school. No one likes this room and I am fairly certain the reason is the life-size painting of the 1st Mrs. Rucastle (deceased) holding estranged daughter Alice.

V: Going by the date on the painting, I'd say the reason our dear Alice ran off had something to do with having a step-mother her own age. No one seems to have any idea what she's doing in the US – and no one seems to really care either. It's like she's been excommunicated.

V: This really is a beautiful old house – it could be quite something if the people living in it weren't so creepy. And it's funny that it's smack up against the road. The grounds go on forever in the back, but I can literally see the street from this window. Not that there's ever anyone out there to see – I imagine the dogs roaming at night keep the neighbors from getting too nosy….. OK. How's that?

SH: It will do for now.

V: Anyone ever mention what a ray of sunshine you are?

SH: No.

V: I'm not surprised…

SH: Thanksgiving turkey and stuffing? (That sounds appalling, actually.)

V: Yeah – I'm not a fan of it myself. Seriously though, every dinner here reminds me of Thanksgiving with my family – draining, uncomfortable, and tedious. They'd 3 it here.

SH: Less than 3?

V: It's a heart, Sherlock. It means love.

SH: That's absurd.

V: So is love. ;)

V: That's a wink, just in case you were wondering.

SH: I understand the notion of the "smiley" however I decline to misuse punctuation to make a point.

V: :D :p O:-)

SH: Stop

V: :'(

DOC W: How are the lessons going? Ready for the Royal Albert?

V: LOL!He's good, but he's not the next Briton who's got talent. Although the way Papa R. carries on after our nightly concerts you'd think the kid was turning out concertos instead of minuets.

DOC W: He plays for them every night? And he's 6?

V: Oh yes! We both play after dinner. Andit'sblack tie, no less.

DOC W: You, too?

V: I tried getting out of it, citing my limited wardrobe but – imagine my luck! – the runaway daughter left at least a hundred gowns here. The best part - all of them are this simply marvelous electric blue color.

V: Every. Single. One.

DOC W: Oh.

V: My closet is a Smurf's paradise.

DOC W: Sorry.

V: Not sorrier than I am…

SH: Are you awake?

V: Yes. Are you?

SH: Oh – that's humor, yes?

V: Apparently a very sad attempt at it. What's on your mind?

SH: Bored. John is out. Mrs. Hudson is asleep. They won't give me back my skull…

V: OK. Let's try a little quid pro quo, Mr. Holmes.

SH: ?

V: I satisfied your need for information. Now it's your turn.

SH: Fine. Should I describe the drawing room to you?

V: Nope. Been there, seen that. I want to know what you're feeling.

SH: What I'm… feeling?

V: I know you have emotions, Sherlock. Don't deny it. Not to me.

V: I want to know what you're feeling right now, texting me at midnight…

SH: The lateness has absolutely nothing to do with why I'm texting you. I do my best work when everyone's asleep besides I told you I was bored. But since I doubt you will give up on this any time soon, I will do my best to answer.

V: My signal is crap here but if you'd rather talk….

SH: No. I can choose my words more carefully this way.

SH: Recently I experienced emotions that had always been enigmatic to me. Fear. Sadness. Friendship. And, quite surprisingly, even love.

V: Love with – and please forgive the question but I would feel safer knowing – a woman?

SH: Why does everyone think I'm gay?

V: It could be the hat. Just sayin'….

SH: That damn hat. I'm going to burn it.

SH: Yes, Violet, a woman. She was as exasperating and infuriating as any I have ever met but, for the first time in my adult life I pursued the carnal understanding of a member of the opposite sex. Subsequently, we had a very brief yet successful liaison in the Middle East.

V: Well, that's a very sterile description of a love affair but I'm going to assume you enjoyed it. So - are you missing her tonight?

SH: One does not miss Irene Adler. One worries when and where she will reappear; however, I fully expect that was the last time I will see her.

SH: And no, it does not bother me. I neither regret my time with the woman nor do I desire to repeat it.

SH: So if you must know what I'm "feeling" I can best describe it as reflective. I am examining the events of your appearance last week in attempt to grasp why continued interaction with you is obligatory rather than compulsory. You should be merely another client and yet if I don't receive any communications from you, I become… apprehensive.

SH: In addition, I have revisited playing for you many times and I can find no logical explanation for why your proximity affected me so significantly.

SH: Since I cannot employ rational thought to satisfactorily resolve this, I now find myself contemplating the possibility that I may need to pursue an amorous relationship with you.

V: Sherlock, are you saying you want to date me?

SH: I am saying that I am considering if pursing a romantic relationship would be an appropriate course.

V: Yes, of course. How silly of me.

SH: I should have the results of my analysis soon.

V: I look forward to receiving your report. I think….

V: Thank you, Sherlock.

SH: For?

V: Even though I'm not 100% sure I understand what you said to me tonight, I do appreciate being "let in." I know it's not something you do easily, or very often.

SH: You are welcome. Now go to bed. It's very late.

V: I will. Good night, Sherlock.

SH: Good night. Sleep well.

SH: And Violet –

SH: You were already "in."

DOC W: OK – what did you do to him?

V: Sorry? Who? Where?

DOC W: Sherlock is humming. HUMMING! Sherlock Holmes does NOT hum.

V: LOL! Well, we did have a rather interesting chat last night.

DOC W: Do tell!

V: Well, it's Sherlock so either he was testing a theory about the effect of texting until 2am on one's ability to get out of bed the next morning, or….

DOC W: ?

V: Or he's exploring his romantic side. It's a toss up, really.

DOC W: A romantic side to Sherlock? OUR Sherlock?

V: You're shocked! Imagine how I felt! I didn't get any sleep afterwards – he's unlike any man I've ever met and I'm not totally sure that's a good thing.

DOC W: He is one of a kind, that's for sure. And if he hurts you, I'll kill him.

V: You know, I totally see why they had to import me – this kid is weird with a capital W. He just went out the backdoor carrying a riding crop and a rabbit trap.

DOC W: Riding crop? He sounds like a pint-sized Sherlock….

V: LOL! Only if Sherlock has a taste for vivisection. And he just might so I need to just shut up now.

DOC W: Never known him to want to cut up anything alive – it's the dead he likes to bring home to the lab, AKA our kitchen.

V: Nasty! I drank tea from that kitchen!

DOC W: I ask him to pick up eggs and he comes home with a severed head.

V: Good lord! Where does he shop?

DOC W: The morgue is his own personal Tesco.

V: I would say he needs a hobby that doesn't involve the dead but somehow I don't see him doing Zumba. Do you?

DOC W: Sherlock in spandex!

V: Yeah – good luck getting that vision out of your head anytime soon.

DOC W: ROFLMAO!

DOC W: I'm dying here and he's seriously furious!

SH: What is going on?

V: Sorry - just telling John about my student. He's not your average kid.

SH: In what way?

V: He likes to catch mice…

SH: A bit odd but not...

V: He catches them so he can skin them – told me he's making his mother a coat. That a British thing, maybe?

SH: No.

V: Well, there goes that theory…

V: I'm not surprised the kid is screwed up – they're not exactly one big happy family. Former Teen Mom has not smiled once in the almost 2 weeks that I've been here.

V: And have I told you about the Tollers?

SH: No.

V: Mrs. T is the housekeeper and cook – she has all the charm of a prison guard. Mr. T (and no, he does not get the 80s tv reference) is the groundskeeper. I've never seen him sober, although if I were married to her I'd sure as hell drink, too.

SH: Make sure you have your phone with you at all times. You must tell me immediately if you find yourself endangered.

V: Oh trust me – I will absolutely let you know. I'd rather not end up the subject of one of those Unsolved Mystery shows. Not that you couldn't solve it.

V: I imagine you are rather annoying to watch television with – always knowing "who done it" before the opening credits are through.

SH: You are well aware what it's like to have an eidetic memory. And before you ask, you tapped my bow twice on your left instep. I access my Mind Palace differently but the concept is the same.

V: Your Mind Palace? Must be a British thing…

SH: How do you initiate recall for the piano?

V: I ask a very handsome gentleman to kiss me.

SH: I am serious.

V: So am I. Fortunately my father attended all my performances.

V: But yes, I understand what it's like to be endlessly thinking, seeing, remembering. Sometimes I want it to stop so desperately – to just be quiet for one day. One hour even.

SH: At one time I was willing to try anything – legal or not. The experiment was not successful.

V: Thanks for the warning. Good thing I turned to music.

SH: Yes. Music. Danse Macabre - Saint-Saëns. Do you know it?

V: Not well.

SH: I'm sending you the music.

V: OK. Why?

SH: Duet. Piano and violin.

V: Sherlock Holmes! Are you asking me to play with you?

SH: I am.

V: All right,I'm game. I've never played a duet over the phone before!

SH: Not over the phone. I expect you'll be back in London once your tenure there is over?

V: I don't really have any plans yet. My return ticket is open ended and honestly, I haven't really thought about it.

SH: Think about it.

SH: Please.

V: I'm sending this to both of you because… well, just take a look at the photo I'm attaching.

Sherlock's phone lit up with a soft chime; John's phone vibrated loudly in his pants pocket.

V: Now, I cannot swear that's MY hair in the drawer but…

"John!" called Sherlock from the kitchen as he poured the cup of tea he had just made into the sink.

"Booking the train now!" called John back from the drawing room tapping briskly on his laptop. "It leaves in 90 minutes - I just need to throw some things in a bag."

"I'll call a taxi. I packed the night she left the flat; I just need to find my tuxedo…. Mrs. Husdon!"