I had just gotten out of my silver Audi when the first insult was thrown at me. "FIRE FREAK!" It came from the third floor errand girl that liked to flirt with my 'boss', her screeching voice gave me a headache almost instantly. I turned to look at her. Scarlet blouse tucked into a coal black dress skirt with heels and accessories to match. Overly fragrant perfume, eau de toilette, very cheap and over sprayed, trying to make an impression. She's going on a date after work, someone who had a lot of money but was either modest with it or still had a lot of bills to pay, I'd say the latter, red lipstick stain on her teeth, she's been biting her lip, she's nervous, of course she would be, the date is most likely with my 'boss' who she's been trying to get with ever since his relationship with his fiancé failed miserably. Back to the errand girl... a speck of melted chocolate on the side of the lip, snacks when anxious but only ate a little bit, conscious about weight, perhaps because of the date, no, most likely because he likes sticks with legs, how pathetic, perfect match though. Pathetic girl for a pathetic man. So boring and predicable. No games to be had with those two.
The next insult came from a man who practically shared a desk with me. Most assumed it was because he fancied me, but that thought was soon completely abandoned when he showed his wedding ring off, that and he's gay. "Gonna set me on fire, huh freak? I don't know why they let you in here!" I glance at him, taking a good look at him for the first time. Female of the relationship, drama queen, loves attention, thinks himself higher than others. Has expensive taste, designer brands including cologne, probably a present from his husband. He's unfaithful, takes his ring off two- no, three times a day before flirting with someone, outside is dirtier than inside, taken ring off a lot but marriage is not unhappy, husband stays at home... drinker... doesn't give much attention but doesn't abuse...
"To answer your question, no, I won't, it was one time, it was a spider, I don't know how you know about it but I don't care and they let me in here because I could replace all of the blood analysis team without even trying." That shut him up. 'Honestly, how boring... though it is almost funny how fast I get bored. I should entertain myself, but how. Experiments? No, equipment is too expensive to waste. Solve a case? No, none have been called in today, well, none that are not dull. Shoot something? I could always use the shooting range but I might just get insulted more and I don't want their stupid voices ringing through my skull. Make and analyse blood splatter patterns? Now we're talking, the 'blood' and 'body' are fairly easy and cheap to make so no waste apart from clean up.' And once again, after that moment I was insulted. By my 'boss' this time.
"Hey psycho, go and help the rest of the team!" Psychopath? I think not.
"What?!" He growled, confused. 'How idiotic of him to mix up psycho and socio.'
"I'm a sociopath not a psychopath..."
"Whatever! Just go help out!" I've had enough of this.
"You know what-" I was cut off by my phone ringing. "One moment sir." I quickly press answer and put the phone up to my ear. "(First) (Last), blood splatter analyst, how may I help you?"
"Ah, hello Miss (Last). This is Detective Inspector Lestrade, I work for Scotland Yard, I've been asked to call you to inquire for your help in a case." Boring. "A string of murders with no clues about blood. Your name has been mentioned and I looked into you, your help is needed because of your expertises. Do you accept?" Mr Lestrade speaks up. 'A case... with nothing but blood! Now I'm interested. I wonder who mentioned me... most people do that in a negative light.'
"Yes I accept, I'll be in England tomorrow." I hang up after that. "Sir, I quit." I state as I collect my items and leave the building, time to pack.
That's what leads us to being in England, standing in Heathrow Airport with my luggage, wondering what to do next. "I should look for a place to stay, before heading to the Yard..." I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text.
I'm in England, Watson - (YI) Lucky for me he replies fast.
Oh? So Lestrade called you? - JW I should have known.
I should have realised only you would talk about me in a positive light old friend. - (YI) I mean it was rather obvious.
Haha, yeah that was me, just sort of happened when they said they needed a better blood analyst, you'll need a place to stay, yeah? Try 221C Baker Street, it's available and has decent rent. - JW 221C... sounds familiar.
Will do, guessing that's near yours by the way you've mentioned it suddenly, so I will see you soon. - (YI)
See you soon too shortcake! - JW
Shortcake... the nickname he gave me after he realised he was taller than me. 'Nothing has changed, I'm glad about that. He'd be boring if he changed.' I walk around for a little bit to stretch my legs, I despise flying, having to sit down for long hours with mind numbing people. But luck was on my side during that flight as I had the window seat and the person near me was a shy old woman, she was nice, didn't talk to much and didn't judge me even when I went into my mind mansion. Soon after walking towards the exit of the airport I spot a man with greying hair holding a piece of paper with my name on it. Time for a quick deduction before I speak to him. Estranged wife, clear from the now removed wedding ring as shown by the pale line to flesh surrounded by a clear tan, most likely works at the Yard as if he knew John personally he wouldn't be here, he knows my name so knows Lestrade, high chance of him actually being the man, friendly but can be easily frustrated, not good to be cryptic around him, slightly above average intelligence and loyal. A trait I can admire. I make my way over to him. “DI Lestrade, I'm assuming?” He turns to look at me and his eyes widen slightly, probably didn't know I was so short… He gulps and nods his head, slight attraction. Interesting. “Shall we get going?” Blushing slightly, definite attraction, he nods again, throws the paper into a bin and leads me out of the airport.
“Um… I hope you don't mind me asking… how old are you?” I guess I must look young for my age.
“33. Why?” I glance up at him. 'He's actually kind of handsome, but not my type, then again I'm not one for romance.'
“You look younger than that is all… you're a bit younger than John and Sherlock.” He states. 'So Sherlock is older than me…'
“Yes I am, and you're clearly wondering how I know John, we grew up near each other, he stopped a group of moronic children bullying me for being different and we've been close since.” I flash him a small smile of which he returns. He stops a cab and helps me place my luggage in the boot of the car. I thank him and climb in and he follows soon after.
“Where to?” The driver asks.
“221C Baker Street.” He nods and starts driving while Lestrade looks at me questioningly. “John suggested I try to move in there, I'm guessing he lives nearby to that address.” He quickly nods.
“He lives in the flat above it, 221B.” 'That's why the address sounds familiar then.' The conversation goes dry as the driver carries on the tedious drive to my soon-to-be new home.