Chapter 3: Finding HomeThe cab soon came to a stop in Baker Street. The ride was boring as expected but Lestrade was able to hold a somewhat intelligent conversation. 'I will inquire about his first name at a later date.' I think to myself as I climb out of the vehicle. I walk to the boot and collect my various belongings as Lestrade pays the driver. I look towards the door. It was a simple door, painted black a while ago as the paint has aged. The knocker to the side and the address 221B in a golden coloured metal. Before I took a step an elderly woman peaks out from the door then widens it suddenly. “Oh hello there Greg dear! Who's this?” 'Well she's certainly sprightly, lucky for her I have a small self policy of not deducing elderly people unless a case calls for it.'
“Oh this is (First), she's a friend of John's. She's looking to move into 221C.” He replies politely. She nods and looks at me with a look of… was that mischief? 'I have a feeling I won't be bored here.'
“Oh! Come right this way dear, it's a bit of a 'fixer up-er' but I'm sure you can do a fantastic job, it's empty so you can do what you want with it!” She explains as she leads me through the ground floor hallway and to the padlocked door of 221C, opening the padlock she hands the padlock and key to me before opening the door. The flat has mostly stripped wallpaper, what seemed to be two mirrors near the off-white fireplace. “The rent isn't that much and a bit less because you're a friend off John.” Well that's nice but what has my relationship with John got to do with rent?
“Oh please ma'am, I'll pay the normal rent, no special treatment please.” I give a sincere smile and she returns it.
“It's Mrs Hudson dear, and remember, I'm your landlady, not your house keeper.” I nod and she leaves to collect the main key. Upon returning I hold up a handful of money and she replaces the money with a two keys, one to the building and one to the flat. “You didn't have to pay up front dear but I can already tell you're stubborn, so I won't argue.” And with that she leaves me to my thoughts. 'Where did Lestrade go?' And as if he heard my thoughts he walks in with a fairly tall man with dark curly locks and cheekbones so sharp they look like they could cut diamonds. He's a recovering addict… 'Now don't go deducing your neighbours, they won't like that!' My more 'human' side of myself reminds me. I listen to it and plaster a smile on my face and hold out my hand.
“Mr Holmes, I'm assuming.” I state rather than ask, he quickly looks over me and I deduce that he is deducing me.
“(First) (Last), 33 years of age, friends with John, not just friends but best friends; you have a tan so came from somewhere hot, most likely the US because you have a slight accent due to the amount of time you stayed there, roughly 18 years due to the accent being stronger than it would be if you had come back from holiday or stayed for a couple of years. Above average intelligence and knows it. Dislikes spiders. Londoner by the way feel comfortable with the area but you're having to readjust from being away for so long, moved as a teenager due to an indecent, probably due to a spider. Sociopath but not on the same level as me. Blood analyst for 10 years now. Confident in your skills… anything I got wrong?” Cocky… would be impressive if John hadn't of informed him of most of that. Lucky for me I picked up on the error.
“It was 16 years, I'm terrified of spiders not just dislike them, analyst for 8 years, only John knows the cause of the accident was a spider, and I would be impressed if you actually were able to deduce that without John informing you before hand.” And silence soon followed from all three of us before Lestrade spoke up.
“Bloody hell Sherlock, she caught you out. Definitely glad she'll be working at the Yard now, maybe she can translate some of the things you say.” He says while smiling at me.
“Indeed...” 'Well someone's not a very happy bunny… oh god I just reminded myself Bonnie from Five Nights at Freddy's, damn my co-workers for daring me into playing that game!'
“May I know the whereabouts of our mutual friend?” He looks shocked at my formality but nods.
“He's up in our flat.” I nod my head and make my way up the stairs to 221B with the boys tailing behind and walk in as Sherlock forgot to lock the door.
“Sherlock? Is that you?” I hear John call out from what is possibly the kitchen.
“Yes John, Lestrade and a guest are here as well.” Sherlock replies and John walks out from the room, immediately looking at the curly haired man.
“Lestrade and a guest? You didn't do anything stupid did you? You were only out for a couple of minutes Sherlock!” He exclaims before his eyes drifted to me, he does a double-take before running over and engulfing me into a hug with a grin. “(First)! I didn't realise you'd come straight to Baker Street!” I chuckle under my breath and hug him back.
“I thought it would best to get a place to stay before heading off to start any work. That and I wanted to see my friend.” I reply and his smile just seems to grow. He sticks his index finger up in the air to indicate that he'll be back in a minute before walking back into the kitchen, probably to make tea. That's one of the first things he usually does when I visit. Hot tea, slightly milky with one or two sugars. Perfection. I begin to look around the room.
A table between the two large windows, a fairly messy bookshelf by the wall on each side of the fireplace, similar to two vary different chairs, one seems very plain with a metal frame showing while the other is an armchair with a blanket covering the back of it and a Union flag sat between the arms. On the fireplace was a display of what appeared from where I was standing to be a bat, next to it was what seemed to be a real human skull. 'I'll have to ask about that later.' And above the fireplace was a mirrow. Near where Sherlock, Lestrade and I were standing there was a sofa, a picture of a skull with a blue background, a bookshelf which seems a tad more organised than the others, and on the wall was a… yellow graffiti smiling face with bullet holes littering the lines in the face. Interesting. Other various things like books, pictures and lights were littered around the room. What caught my interest the most was the violin case in the corner of the room, most likely Sherlock's as John doesn't play. 'I wonder if he'll play for me.' I personally prefer the piano.
The smell of tea soon fills the room, blocking all my thoughts as my body screams at me, indicating its thirst, not to knowledge like usual, but fluids. John hands me a plain white mug full of one of the best drinks available in the UK. I quickly take in several mouthfuls and wipe my mouth as John chuckles. “You should remember to drink more, being without liquids for too long is dangerous for you.” Of course, expect him to give me a health lecture.
“I know John, you always remind me of that. It's become far too predictable.” We chuckle together and he nods towards the sofa and we both sit down and begin filling each other of the years we spent apart.
Little did John and I know that Sherlock was busy away in his own little world with Lestrade becoming increasingly frustrated as the dark haired man wouldn't answer him. However, he soon stalked over to his chair and sat down, picking up his violin and begins to play Vivaldi's Spring from the composition 'The Four Seasons'. My favourite piece out of the four of them… how did he know? I slowly begin to close my eyes to enjoy the music and explore my mind mansion. The room related to all things about my best friend had new information so had to be rearranged, the various maps I stored in my mind had to be adapted to my new environment and the old ones featuring where I lived in the US was to be removed. I skip around my mind in tune with the classical piece of art. I became so enthralled with Sherlock's playing and sorting out the various information I didn't realise John was trying to get my attention. He plays so magnificently… it's soul capturing. Then the thought came to me. 'I never want to leave, Baker Street is now, and forever my home.' Home with my best friend, his fantastic sociopathic violinist, the sweet landlady, and the charming Detective Inspector. Yes… this is home.