Disclaimer: I do not own these characters they belong to the CW and BBC

Chapter 1

Dean had been in London for a week, staying at some cheap hotel above a pub. He spent the first week getting to know the city and visiting tourist traps. Having spent most of his life in small towns and on the backroads, London was something else. The city made Dean feel small while at the same time drawing him into its rhythm. He had begun searching for more permanent housing, something he never thought he would actually have. So far, finding an apartment or "flat" as they were called here was proving more difficult than he imagined. Landlords liked references and financial statements and London was expensive.

Currently, Dean was strolling down a side street trying to gain a lay of the land. It was the hairs rising on the back of his neck that tipped him off before he heard the sound of a scuffle and argument. Dean picked up his pace and rapidly round the corner to see a hooded man assaulting an older woman carrying groceries.

"Hey," Dean shouted alerting them of his presence as the thief took out a knife, turning towards Dean. Decades of instinct took over as Dean quickly disarmed the man, effectively breaking his wrist. The man slumped to the ground in pain as Dean pocketed the knife, it was a nice blade.

"Oh my goodness, oh thank you so much," a kind, soft voice exclaimed from behind Dean.

"You alright ma'am?" Dean asked looking over his shoulder at the slight, red haired woman.

"Yes, yes of course, silly me, it's just I had to go out to the market, oh I should call the police," Dean took a hesitant step back from the woman's ramblings but nodded in agreement as she went to take out her phone. Dean turned back to the criminal who was still groaning on the ground, clutching his wrist making sure the kid didn't run off.

The sirens sounded a few minutes later as a few squad cars pulled up to the curb. A grey haired man wearing a long coat stepped out or the front car making his way over to Dean and the woman. "Mrs. Hudson, are you alright?" The man hugged the woman, who Dean could only assume was Mrs. Hudson. "I'm fine Detective Inspector, just fine, no harm done thanks to this young man," Mrs. Hudson reassured the man as she gestured to Dean.

Dean followed Mrs. Hudson and the Detective Inspector who introduced himself as Greg Lestrade to a building designated 221 Baker Street next to a red awning labeled Speedy's Sandwich Bar and Café. The building looked innocuous enough, with its brick façade and paneled black door. Mrs. Hudson quickly unlocked the door, chatting on about the apartment, or flat, she was trying to rent out. Dean was ushered inside with a resigned looking Lestrade who grumbled about having to get back to Scotland Yard. Dean was relieved to see the Detective go, never one to enjoy being around law enforcement for too long, even though he seemed like a nice man.

"Well, this is it. I know it's a little dank but that's what happens with basement flats," Mrs. Hudson cringed as she opened the door, revealing a dark room smelling of the damp London air. Dean glanced around noticing a small kitchen and living room with what he assumed to be the bedroom and bath down a narrow hall.

"Stayed in way worse Mrs. H, but I don't exactly have a job right now and very little money to pay you," Dean said, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to let the woman down easily. It was one thing to scam a motel, but scamming a little old lady out of money was something Dean wasn't comfortable with.

"I've been looking for work as a mechanic, but London doesn't seem to have a lot of repair shops," Dean grimaced, glancing around the room again.

"Oh, you can fix things?" Mrs. Hudson's eyes lit up at the prospect as Dean slowly nodded, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"First month's rent free if you can do some repairs around the building and while you're at it you can continue to look for that job," Mrs. Hudson nodded decisively, turning big eyes on Dean. Dean sighed, rubbing his face as he thought over the deal and it was a good deal.

"Sure Mrs. H, sounds good," he agreed with a small smile and a little chuckle as Mrs. Hudson let out an exclamation.

"Oh wonderful, well you just go pack your things right up and we can meet here tomorrow at ten. I will have a key for the front door and the door to your flat made up and you can move right in," Mrs. Hudson gave him a smile, taking Dean by the arm and leading him out of the apartment.

"Alright, so tomorrow morning, ten o'clock I will be here," Dean murmured as he walked out the front door, turning to look at the 221 Baker Street adorning the black panels.

"Yes, it's so exciting and you can meet your other housemate and don't worry he's not as bad as he seems at first," Mrs. Hudson grinned as she closed the door, leaving Dean a little dumbfounded at her parting shot. Dean turned and began heading down the street towards his hotel as the hairs on the back of his neck began to prickle. Trusting his gut, Dean turned and looked over his shoulder and up to the second level of 221 Baker Street noticing a twitch of the curtains. Squinting, Dean watched as a dark shape slinked away from the windows before he continued down the street.

Sherlock heard the rattle of the tea tray, signaling Mrs. Hudson's entrance. "I have someone who will be renting out 221C, isn't that nice Sherlock. He's a lovely young man, American, and will be fixing things around the building, isn't that just nice," Mrs. Hudson tittered as she placed the tea tray down and began pouring two cups.

"He's the man who rescued you from the mugger and you just figured having someone who could disarm a criminal would be a wise choice as a renter," Sherlock drawled as he picked up his tea, taking a delicate sip.

"I have you as a tenant, don't I," Mrs. Hudson muttered sweetly causing Sherlock to narrow his eyes.

"My point exactly Mrs. Hudson," the detective rumbled, amusement evident in his voice.

"Well, it's not like I have to worry, you'll be here in order to tell me all about what a horrible, scheming man he is after first glance," Mrs. Hudson giggled around the rim of her tea cup.

"Shouldn't it concern you that you are surrounding yourself with devious individuals?" Sherlock sneered, trying to dismiss the older woman.

"Please, Sherlock. The only devious ones are you and your brother," Mrs. Hudson rolled her eyes, patting Sherlock on the arm.

"I am nothing like Mycroft," Sherlock bit out, appalled at the very idea.

Mrs. Hudson gave him a guileless smile as she gathered up the tea tray and headed downstairs. Sherlock huffed out an annoyed breath, mind racing with the possible variables that come with acquiring a new housemate, a new American housemate. Sherlock drummed his fingers, launching himself out of his chair and grabbing his violin.