Prologue: A Chance Meeting

Tipping back the pint of smooth beer, I scanned the bar, taking in my surroundings. I had been back in London for three months and had already gone through two therapists and four hotels. My military pension was hardly enough to sustain decent living circumstances, and I had recently been considering finding a flat- in that case, of course, I would need a flatmate to help split the fee. The trouble of finding one willing to live with me almost seemed not worth the hassle, but I certainly was not going to stay with Henry. London was my home, and as I had no family in the area, I had no choice but to try to find a man who didn’t mind living with a cold veteran suffering from PTSD.

 

As I contemplated my circumstance, I heard a familiar voice behind me, calling me by name. “Watson? Doctor John Watson?” I twisted in my seat and found myself facing the young Mike Stamford, an unseasoned doctor who had trained under me during his schooling at St. Barts. The young man smiled at me and extended a hand in greeting, one I readily took. Within the hour, we had become reacquainted and had shared a few laughs and tales of our lives since we had last seen each other five years prior. He had been married, and his wife had birthed an infant daughter, while all I had to share were my few brief yet horrific misadventures in Afghanistan.

 

“Mike,” I eventually asked, my state of mind slightly fogged by the alcohol, “how would you like to meet up for coffee tomorrow morning? I haven’t seen a lot of my old friends since I got back, and it’d be nice if we could get together to talk more.”

 

“Yes,” he said, “I wouldn’t mind that at all.” We exchanged mobile numbers and shared a cab back to our respective homes with plans to meet up at a café the following morning at ten o’clock sharp.

 

Upon arrival the following morn at the predetermined destination, however, I found Mike pacing anxiously outside of it, a coffee tray holding three cups in his hands. I indiscreetly checked my watch, and, finding I was not late, walked up to him. “Something wrong, Mike?” I asked as he handed me a coffee.

 

“No,” the thin man replied, “Not a problem, I’d say. It’s just... a colleague and I have been working on a study recently and they seem to have had a breakthrough. I was up there a few minutes ago, but came down to meet up with you. You wouldn’t mind walking up to Barts with me? We can talk on the way, it’s a bit of a walk and a nice day considering.” He was right. It was one of those rare blue-skied days in London, and a walk wasn’t such a bad idea.

 

“No, I wouldn’t mind at all.” I sipped my coffee as we strolled down the streets towards the hospital. “So tell me about this study of yours?”

 

“Oh, it’s a study on how certain chemicals can help preserve DNA. We’re working on not only how to better preserve DNA fresh found as evidence, but also how to better detect older, already decayed DNA and make a positive match with it. Very interesting, very useful. Not my idea of course, I’m not nearly that clever, but my knowledge on animal and human chromosomes has been helpful, I’ll admit.”

 

“Hmm… that does sound very useful. This colleague of yours must be quite the scientist, then.”

 

Mike laughed good-naturedly. “Sherlock’s something else, I’ll give you that. So tell me, how have you been getting on recently?”

 

“Oh, you know,” I offered, “I’ve been trying to settle down, back into the grove of the common man. It’s quite strange, adjusting to life here since my dispatch from the military. Actually, though, that does remind me of a point I meant to bring up with you. You haven’t, by chance, come across anyone in need of a flatmate? I figure I must be quite the difficult man to live with- I’d be surprised if anyone would be willing to go halves with me. It’s really quite too bad, though, because I cannot afford the hotel nor a flat on my own and I am far from normal enough to make a pleasant flatmate for any man.”

 

As I finished speaking, Mike burst into laughter beside me. He was laughing so hard, in fact, that he had to stop walking and catch his breath. I found myself slightly offended, as I assumed it was I he had been laughing at. I would soon realise, however, that I was quite wrong. “Mike?” I asked when he had recovered from his amusement, “Did I say something wrong?”

 

Mike shook his head and chuckled lightly as we resumed our walk towards the hospital, which was but two blocks away at this point. “No, not at all. It’s only that you’re the second person I have heard say that this morning.”

 

“What?” I turned surprised towards him, eager at the possible opportunity of meeting a man that might actually be willing to live with me. “So you do know someone, then? Who is it, and can I meet him to talk about the possibility of sharing a flat?”

 

“Yes, I do in fact know someone. And I think they’d readily share rooms with you, I’m just not so sure you would be so hasty to move in with them.”

 

“Is that so?” I did not find myself persuaded by Mike’s caution. At that point, I figured any man willing to live with me would be suitable. Even a violent serial criminal would do, as long as I was left out of his antics. “Who is it, then? I’m sure he’s a fine man.”

 

I found Mike chuckling again, and wondered what could possibly be so funny about our conversation. “None other,” said he, “than Sherlock Holmes.”

 

“Why,” I replied enthusiastically, “I don’t see how that is a bad thing at all! From the brief amount I have heard of him, he seems like a fantastic fellow. And I’m sure a scientific man would make a fitting and standard flatmate, save for the few instruments of his trade. I don’t see how that would be a disadvantage at all, however. In fact, I think that would only make him a more interesting man to get to know.”

 

Mike gave a wry smile and shook his head sardonically. “I think you will find yourself much surprised by Sherlock Holmes, Watson. More so than you could imagine.”

 

“Well, I guess we will see soon enough.” That was the last we spoke of Sherlock Holmes, as we chose to converse more common matters for the rest of our stroll. When we got to St. Barts, I found myself much intrigued by some of the technological changes that had occurred of the four years I had been absent. We entered on the first floor and passed many laboratories and an autopsy room, all of which were equipped with the most novel instruments I had seen. Of course, this awe could have been slightly attributed to my incompetence with technology of any sort. I often found myself having troubles with the smallest of devices, including my laptop and phone, and usually needed someone else’s assistance. Technology was amazing to me, yes, I just wasn’t too keen with it.

 

Eventually we found ourselves through a wing of the building I had never stepped foot in, an observation which I was sharing with Mike as we entered a rather spacious room. It seemed to be a chemistry or biology lab, and there was one young female student working behind a long counter on the other side of the room. As Mike informed me of a few more recent renovations, the student came around from behind the counter and scurried towards us. “Michael!” she exclaimed excitedly, “I simply must show you what I have-” She unexpectedly froze midsentence and turned towards me, as if suddenly realising I was there.

 

When she looked at me, her face lit up. “Oh, an army doctor!” She smiled happily, sticking out a hand in a greeting. I accepted it and was rather surprised by her firm handshake- one that would be rare from a man, let alone a woman. “How long have you been back from Afghanistan?” She inquired curiously, looking me in the eye.

 

 

“Three mont- wait. How did you know that?” I was shocked and slightly appalled by her knowledge of me. She only smiled as I turned towards Mike. “You told her, then?” He grinned and shook his head as I turned back to the girl, who was still standing expectantly in front of me. “Who are you anyway?”

“This,” Mike introduced, gesturing towards the girl, “is my colleague…”

 

“…Sherlock Holmes,” the feminine voice interjected.

 

My mind shut down for a moment, like a machine cut short of energy during a power outage. As the gears in my brain slowly started turning again, I was able to begin to process the situation. The girl in front of me was approximately five feet and seven inches in height, with slightly tanned skin and light brown hair. Her frame was rather thin, but not to a sickly proportion. She was decently weighted in the hips and breasts, but extremely lean around her legs and waist. Her build, however, made her seem slightly taller than she was, despite the fact that already had greater height than the average woman. She was clothed in loose jean shorts and a light yellow polo that was rather tight fitting. Over this she wore a white lab coat that seemed to be a slight bit big on her. The most outstanding variable, however, was her lack of shoes. This apparent neglect of footwear was a trait I found odd- quite peculiar indeed- but rather strangely fitting.

 

My eyes were then drawn to her face. She had strange greenish eyes and prominent cheekbones. It donned on me that this girl was quite pretty, and could draw a crowd if she bothered with her appearance even the slightest. Her even face gave her an air of dominance that was not contradicted by those fierce and intelligent green orbs, and I looked down into them for a moment, trying to read anything I could, but only found myself intimidated in a way that I had not been before- especially in the presence of a woman. “Sherlock…” I repeated slowly, crossing my arms and trying not to draw my gaze from hers, “Holmes? Why, that’s a man’s name. Is this some sort of sick prank Mike has put you up to?” Despite my inquiry, I knew deep down that it was not, as there was something uniquely perfect about this girl that told me she was exactly who she claimed to be.

 

Her mocking chuckle confirmed my doubts, as she shook her head sardonically. “No, not at all doctor. I promise that I am exactly who I say I am.”

 

“Your parents then, gave you a man’s name?”

 

Her brow furrowed as she studied my face and I fought the urge to tear away from those knowing eyes. However, those same eyes that made me fidget uncomfortably suddenly had a look of realisation in them as her pupils dilated and she exhaled slowly, “Ahhh...” She stared at me for a few more seconds before giving me an ever-so-small nod of recognition. “Wilhelmina Sherlock Scarlett Holmes. Sherlock is merely the name I choose to go by, for it is of my preference.”

 

I heard Mike inhale sharply beside me as the girl- Sherlock- and I continued in our stoic confrontation. “Well I find it quite… fitting. Albeit strange, I believe that name suits you all too well.”

 

“As good names tend to do.” Sherlock quickly spun around, seemingly through with me, and grabbed her coffee from the tray Mike was still holding. “Black,” she stated simply, walking away and taking a long gulp of it, “Thank-you.”

 

Sherlock returned to her previous spot behind the counter and fiddled with a few instruments whose names were foreign to me. “Now Michael,” she said, “I would like you to observe this for a few moments and tell me what you find.”

 

Mike complied, setting down his coffee and the now empty try on the edge of the counter. Sherlock then returned her gaze to me, looking me up and down quickly. “So,” she proposed, “would you find it all to bothersome sharing a flat with a woman?”

 

I almost choked on my drink as she spoke, but managed to contain myself. How the hell did she- No. I decided this time around not to inquire how she knew this but to instead simply play along. It couldn’t hurt. “Don’t you think that would be a little inappropriate? I mean, we hardly know each other.”

 

“I promise,” she stated sarcastically, rolling her eyes, “that I will not make any sexual advancements towards you. Now I have acquired a nice flat with more than enough room for the two of us to live comfortably, and with the split fee it should be more than affordable. Tell me, John, what habits you would dislike in a flatmate.”

 

Again, she seemed to have information she shouldn’t have been able to. And, again, I chose to ignore it- for the time being, that is. “You really may do whatever you please, so long as your habits do not interrupt or hinder my life in any way. I warn you though, I suffer from PTSD and can sometimes be cold and informal. I have been told I can be quick to anger and quite rude when upset.” I figured playing along with her game couldn’t hurt, and if it came down to it I wouldn’t mind moving in with a beautiful- yet eccentric- woman.

 

“Oh, that shall not be a problem. All those traits are welcome or acceptable. Tell me then, what is your opinion on music?”

 

“Music? Well I like it quite a bit, if written and performed well.”

 

“Would you mind terribly the presence of a piano in the sitting room? The other instruments that I tend to play include the guitar, flute, and most prominently, the violin. Would it bother you if I were to sit around the flat composing music and playing those instruments?”

 

“No, in fact I would find it quite swell if you are good at your trade. I find live entertainment quite pleasant.” Hopefully this Sherlock Holmes could appreciate a bit of sarcastic humour.

 

Evidently, she did, as I saw the corners of her lips rise in a smirk. “My habits, then. I tend to go to bed early but wake up late at night and become active. I then go back to bed and sleep late. I eat little and talk less when my mind is preoccupied and have been known to go on for days without uttering a single word. Also, I have the terrible habit of smoking. Would that bother you immensely?”

 

“All fine so long as I am left at peace. And, whilst I do not smoke, I do not mind being in the company of those who do. Is there anything else?”

 

“No, I think that should be all. Now Mike and I here have quite a bit of work to be doing and will be occupied for the next few hours. Please see yourself out. I will meet you at noon tomorrow at the address 221B Baker Street. Good day.”

 

And with that, it was as if she simply switched off. She turned to a microscope and became immersed in her observations beside my friend Mike Stamford, who looked equally absorbed. I fidgeted awkwardly in the corner of the room for a few moments before briskly turning and leaving without another word.

 

As I walked out of the hospital and down the street, hailing a cab, I only had one thought in my head: “Who the hell is Sherlock Holmes, and did I just move in with her?”

Author's Note

Hey guys! It'd be great if you could give me some constructive critism (:
Also, fair warning, in this novel there will be an itsy bitsy bit of romance. But not like, romance romance. Like. attraction, I guess? But it is most prominately Sherlock Holmes. Just in chick version (;

Reviews

[.quan.011.]

This is a Prologue is a good start. I love Sherlock Holmes and I can't wait to read more. I didn't find anything wrong grammar wise so good job.

[Elle Telorve]

i read this after your first chapter and it seems that you follow alot of other sherlock stories close. try and be more origanal

[SomeoneSomewhere]

Brilliant idea! I find that you really capture his character in the way he speaks and the way he narrates the story. Couldn't find any faults! Keep up the great work:)

[Chloe]

This is an amazing write. I can't pick up any faults since I don't often pay much attention to grammar. If this book is ever published, I'd be all over it.

[Taylor H.]

Before I review I just want to let you know I submitted Ash to Ash in your review contest :)

a coffee tray holding three cups in has hands. ----in his hands

Your parents then, gave you a mans name----man's

Well I like it quite a bit, if written and preformed well----performed

I really enjoyed this so far. I love Sherlock Holmes so this was very interesting :)

[Dean Kuch®]

The fact that you chose Sherlock Holmes as a basis for the characterizations in your story intrigued me. He has always been one of my favorite characters. Great beginning, very captivating. I will read more! But PLEASE...enlarge the font size. My head is aching (so hard on old farts such as myself!)...

[Xerclipse]

Watson is always that one who is behind. Even in this one. Nice fan fiction based on Sherlock Holmes. I knew what was coming once Sherlock asked about the violin. But he probably does understand the sarcastic humor but he will play it anyway. Good job!

[Archia]

I'm really quite interested in this, it's such a great idea and you've done this first chapter really nicely. What I like is how you've both subverted and adhered tothe traditionsl Sherlock Holmes stories. Like the dialogue, it keeps with how it was in the original stories but still with that modern aspect, that's really good. There's just a few things though.
When first describing how Sherlock looks, it's a bit too much. You need to show not tell. It's get s bit tefious there, with every slight aspect being described, and then going on to the face. There was a point where I just zoned out so by the end of that part I didn't actually know that much more about how she looked. Less is more here. So I would say cut that down, just mention a few things, and intertwin some with others.
Oh and the bare feet. Whilst it's a nice part, it would never ever happen. It is not realistic at all, it breaks OH&S, and any scientist should know better, especially someone as smart as Sherlock. That's just me being antsy.
One more thing, which is about how Sherlock knows this stuff. My problem is, is that I want to know how. One of the great things about Doyle's Sherlock stories is that it explained mostly how Sherlock figured all this stuff out, it makes it realiable. At this moment, I am questioning Sherlock's ability, when I feel I should have a lot more confidence. For me I need that explanation, I need that understanding, even if it is something small.
But apart from those things, this is going well. I just love the whole idea of this. I noramlly hate stories based on other one's but I really enjoyed this one so far. It was good how the character's habits were shared, a nice way to establish them further, especially Sherlock's.
So great idea, nice first chapter, just a few things, but I think this could end up going really well.

[Lydia]

A little choppy in places, but I love the main idea. You captured the emotions prefectly which is hard to do. I love it, and hope you do another chapter.

[MerinxD]

Very interesting way to portray the story. I have honestly never seen this before. With Harry Potter fiction yes but never Sherlock Holmes. =P

The piece has a wonderful sense of timelessness. It makes me feel as if I am reading the old Sherlock text as well as the new age television show. While you have changed the character Sherlock, I do not feel a loss of depth or see an immaturity that these pieces usually portray. You write John Watson impeccably and I hope to see more characters as you fill the story out. I can see the scene unfold with clarity as the words pass me by because of your flawless characterisation.

The way you write is very reminiscent of 'An Ideal Husband', although much more contemporary. Good job :)