Notes-

Hello, I'm Jennie.

I'm the other brain writing this fan fiction. As Scarlett has already mentioned beautifully, I shall be writing Charlotte's POV in this fanfic. I'm not as talented at this as Scarlett, however I have tried my best. This is my first chapter in Charlotte's POV. It is safe to say... she is a tough one to write for.

I hope you enjoy it.

Charlotte' POV-

I sat still as the cab came to a stop, from the corner of my eyes I noticed John limp towards the house his cane in one hand whilst he balanced himself with the other. He did come, I knew he would I thought as I sat for a second and watched him reach the door. '221B' read the bold characters on the great black door.

"4.50, please mam" the cabbie sputtered whilst glancing at me from his rear view mirror.

Wrinkles. I would say 56. Smoker with bronchitis, jaundice as well. He looked dishevelled, long shift through the night with cups of coffee to keep him awake. Three kids, aged 26, 18 and 14. How did I know? I just did. The yellow shade of his eyes showed he was suffering from jaundice, the splutter and coughing all through the ride determined bronchitis. The coffee, deduced from the stain on his shirt as well as the yellowish tinge in his grin. I could tell he had three kids his keys held a picture of their arms wrapped around him. Their dress showed how old they were.

This is what I do, I deduce things. I simply observe. And never has anything I observe made me feel uncomfortable. Until now that is.

"4.50 please mam" repeated the driver as I gazed out of the window.

"Yes yes! Here you go" I said, handing the driver his money impatiently. 'Hello." I said to John whilst exiting the car.

"Miss Holmes" John greeted me with a smile. His eyes were fixed on me as I took his hand into mine for a firm handshake. I couldn't help but notice his cheeks flush slightly as he smiled at me.

"Charlotte, please." I corrected him as we released our hands to stand in front of the door.

"This is a prime stop, must be expensive."

"Well Mrs Hudson, the landlady, has given me a special deal. I did her a favour. A few years back her husband was sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help her out."

"Wait, you stopped her husband being executed?"

"Oh no, I ensured it." I smiled at him.

Perplexed, his face held a distinct look of awe. I noted this mentally as the door swung open.

"Charlotte" said the elderly lady affectionately at the door, whilst embracing me in her arms. She was warm and smelled of flour and baking. She smelt of, what some people describe to be, home.

Mrs Hudson, she has always treated me like a daughter, far more than I can say for my own mother. I always made whatever effort I could to return the affection. Although, it can be said, I'm hardly an affectionate person.

"Mrs Hudson, this is Dr John Watson." I said releasing myself of her embrace and introducing the man stood beside me. John still held a stunned look on his face but nonetheless smiled warmly at Mrs Hudson.

"Hello."

"Come in, come in!" Mrs Hudson smiled back joyfully, waving John in. I followed closely behind across the landing as Mrs Hudson closed the door behind.

I jumped up the stairs as John followed slowly behind, trying to support his leg as he climbed the stairs.

I stood at the door watching him closely, I wanted to show him the new flat but for once I remained strangely patient. Waiting has always been such a boring concept, yet here I was willing to wait for this man. How peculiar?

Once he had reached the top step I flung open the door swiftly and let him enter the flat.

It smelt old and there were mismatched pieces of furniture scattered around the flat, but that did not catch my attention. Instead I watched John intently, looking for a glimmer of emotions as to whether he liked it or not. I don't know why I cared so much; I never cared about what others thought before.

"Well this could be very nice," he said nodding at me in approval. I felt a rush of relief as he walked around the living room taking in the room further, "Very nice indeed."

"Yes" I agreed, "My thoughts exactly, so let's go straight ahead-"

"Soon as we manage to get it cleaned up-" John interrupted, we both looked at each other in confusion,

"Oh." I looked around the room, and threw the objects laying around into the boxes, "Well obviously I can straighten things up a bit" as I stick a knife into the mantelpiece. I can't believe I still have that with me… it was from a murder case. Only one thing came to mind, Anderson.

"That's a skull." John said directing is cane at the skull on top of the mantelpiece. Ah yes… the skull.

"Friend of mine," I corrected him, "Well I say friend."

Mrs Hudson walked in at that moment as I was took my coat off and threw it on the sofa. I brushed my dress of whatever dust I had gotten on it whilst 'attempting' to clean up.

"Well what do you think then Dr Watson?" she asked, "there's another bedroom upstairs if you be needing two bedrooms." I laughed to myself at this whilst unravelling my scarf. Sly women.

"Well of course we'll be needing two," John replied pragmatically.

"Oh don't worry dear, there's all sorts here. Mrs Turner, next door, got married once."

John looked at be bemused. I on the other hand did not look back in return. I do love Mrs Hudson.

"Charlotte, the mess you've made," sighed Mrs Hudson as he walked into the kitchen. I couldn't care less what she thought was a mess, instead I watched as John slumped himself into the armchair near the fireplace.

I opened my laptop pretending not to notice him watching me quietly.

"I looked you up on the internet last night," he said. I couldn't help but like this idea, even if I didn't show it. I wonder what he thought. Amazing… Wonderful…Brilliant?

"Anything interesting?" I asked, even though I already knew the reply,

"Found your website. 'The Science of Deduction'" I knew it.

"What did you think?" I asked rather proudly, his face contorted into a face that could no less be described as 'meh'. I frowned at him waiting for him to reply,

"You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and an aeroplane pilot by his left thumb"

"Yes?" I said defensively, "I could read your military career, your face, your leg and your brother's habits from your mobile phone."

"How?"

I smiled at him conspicuously and turned way to return to my laptop.

"What about these suicides then Charlotte?" Mrs Hudson asked whilst reading the paper, "I thought that would be right up your street, three exactly the same."

I wasn't paying much attention; something else had caught my eye out of the window. "Four." I corrected as the police car flashed down on the street. "There's been a fourth, there's something different this time"

As if on cue Greg Lestrade pranced up the stairs to face me.

"Where?" I asked curiously.

"Brixton, Lorriston Gardens." He replied not even needing to tell me the details,

"What's new about this one? You wouldn't have come to get me if there wasn't something different."

"You know how they never leave notes?"

"Yeah" I said impatiently wanting him to get to the point.

"Well this one did." He revealed. This was getting interesting, "Will you come?"

"Who's on forensics?" I asked, already anticipating the answer.

"Anderson."

I grimaced with a slight feeling of sickness erupting in my stomach, but this was too interesting to get distracted by a buffoon. I sensed John watching me intently, I enjoyed the attention.

"Anderson won't work with me." I said dismissing Lestrade's enjoyment in the news.

"Well he won't be your assistant."

"I need an assistant." I replied angrily.

"Will you come?" he asked again, this time sounding more desperate. I liked it.

"Not in a police car. I'll be right behind."

I could feel the sense of relief in Lestrade's posture.

"Thank you" he bowed and then turned to leave the door stopping only slightly to notice John perched on the chair before exiting the door.

John looked around in a confused manner, as if to gain some explanation for what was happening. I smiled to myself as I felt my brain starting to fragment the pieces together.

"YES! Brilliant!" I exclaimed jumping in the air, almost having to stop myself from tripping on my heels. "Four serial suicides and now I know. Oh! It's Christmas. Mrs Hudson I'll be late, might need some food."

"I'm your landlady dear, not your housekeeper." She said reminding me once again. I knew that she would get some food anyway. She never fails to.

"Something cold will do." I said to her, "John, have a cup of tea, make yourself at home. Don't wait up."

I walked out of the door. I stopped in my tracks. He didn't follow. Why didn't he follow? He should have followed.

I walked back up the stairs whilst taking my gloves out of my pocket. I stood at the doorway and watched John as he opened the newspaper. He looked a little disappointed.

"You're a doctor. In fact, you're an army doctor." I said to him as I slipped each glove on.

"Yes." He replied looking up. He grabbed his cane and lifted himself up from the chair to face me. What is this? I couldn't help but look away as he looked more intently. Charlotte Holmes never shies away.

"Any good?" I asked to break the intensity of his stare.

"Yes. Very good."

"Seen a lot of injuries then? Violent deaths?"

"Yes."

"A bit of trouble too I bet?"

"Yes. Of course. Enough for a lifetime. Far too much." He said as I walked in closer.

"Want to see some more?"

"Oh god yes!"

We both moved swiftly out of the door and down the stairs.

"Sorry Mrs Hudson, I'll skip the tea. I'm popping out." John replied to the bewildered Mrs Hudson who stood at the bottom of the stairs.

"Both of you?" she asked in what could only be described as disappointment. I turned swiftly to face her.

"Possible suicides, four of them? There's no point sitting at home when there's finally something fun going on!" I said grabbing her by the shoulders and kissing her cheek.

"Look you're all happy. It's not decent" she said laughingly,

"Who cares about decent? The Game, Mrs Hudson, is on." I replied walking out of the door. I lifted my hand to call a taxi. This is it.

I have a case.