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You knock on the paint-chipped door of the address you brother had given to you. An older woman in a flowered dress opens the door "hello dear, how I may help you?" she asks cheerily.

"(f/n) (l/n)" you say as you stretch out your hand to her. "I'm here to see John Watson"
"Oh, yes, yes of course. John told me he was expecting you." She says returning the hand shake "I hope you don't mind staying on the ground floor with me. I don't trust him after what he did to my wall."

"John?" You laugh "what did he do to the wall?"

"No, Sherlock, and you'll see when you go up there!" she says. She says helping you bring your luggage to a small unused bedroom. "I'm missus Hudson, by the way."

"Well, it is an honest pleasure to meet you missus Hudson." You take a small envelope out of your pocket and hand it to get. "I hope this is enough for your trouble, I shouldn't be here for more than a few weeks"

"Thank you dear but I don't need it; it'll be nice having some female company for a while"

"Please I insist" you say as you follow her back into the foyer "I'm going upstairs to see the boys, if you need anything just call on me." You walk up the stairs and quietly open the door to the upper loft. John is sitting is a chair with his back to you and Sherlock is nowhere in sight. You quietly walk up behind the chariot and tap John's shoulder "miss me?" You chime sweetly.

Startled, he turns with a small jolt. "(f/n)! I was wondering when you would be here, I was worried Mycroft had stopped you." He says getting up from his seat to give you a hug. “So, how are you? You've been doing better with-"

"Oh sorry miss, I didn't know we had a client. So how may I assist you my dear" says a tall man add he enters the flat. He smiled, kissing the back of your hand. This was Sherlock Holmes? This is not the man john had described to, not at all.

"Oh actually this-" john began but you cut him off.

"Oh dear, dear mister Holmes" you pleaded, shooting a quick look at john. Time to apply your preforming arts degree. "I surely hope you can, I do fear for my brother’s sanity. For almost a year now he's been living with a rumored psychopath and I've been worried about him."

"Oh stop" john protested "Sherlock surely-"

"Hush john this sounds like it could be an interesting case. What about this roommate then, what can you tell me about him?"

"Well he's quite infamous actually, perhaps you've heard of him?"

"So your john's sister, glad to meet you. I see you've kicked the drinking habit. You been sober for a good few months now. Also you've dyed you're hair back to its original color and you're staying with us for a few weeks."

"I don't drink at all actually; I'm not like out other sister, anyway my turn. You're Sherlock Holmes, easy enough, you disapprove of me coming to stay here and you've already decided that I'm not worth your time even though I've just meet you." You smirk "oh, and you're surprised why I didn't ask you how you knew all that."

"Your degree in preforming arts can't serve you that well. Though you almost had me thinking you had a case for me until I picked up your little exchange with your brother here." Sherlock retorts, casually crossing the room to retrieve his violin.

"Well Mr. Holmes if it’s a mystery you’re looking for you will surely find one here. Go ahead, try and decipher me, if you’re up for the challenge." Your eyes twinkle conspicuously as he begins to play his violin "well?" You ask turning to John

"Hmm? Oh right sorry, I've just never seen someone stand up to him like that... anyway we've got quite a bit of catching up to do."

"Over lunch perhaps? My treat."

"Deal."

***later that night***

"(f/n)? I'm going out to see Sarah; I'll be back in a few hours. Try not to get into trouble alright?" John smiles as he pulls a blazer on over his shoulders.

"No promises," you laugh "have a nice date John." Then, just as soon as the door in shut, Sherlock is leaning over you eyeing you as if he is examining your every pore.

"Why are you here?"

Startled by the closeness you lean back in your chair. "w-what do you mean?"

"Why. Are. You. Here? You obviously aren't in any financial trouble, you don't have any visible handicap, and I honestly don't think you've got any mental handicap. So, why. Are. You. Here?" He says as he begins pacing the room.

"So I was right then, I am a mystery to you"

"Yes and I love it but, I hate it so, stop it!"

"Hmm let me think, no. I've got no valid reason to, you don't do anything for me, and you practically hate me for god's sake!"

"Fine, fine, what do you want me to do? Rub your feet? Make you tea?"

"Kiss me." your answer impulsively and immediately wish that you hadn't.

"What? K-kiss you? W-why would you want me to do that." He stutters, trying desperately to regain his composure.

You stifle a laugh. "I don't" ((shut up yes you do)) "I just wanted to see your face, you where pale as a ghost." you close your eyes as you laugh and when you open them Sherlock is so close to you that you can feel his breath on your skin.

"Then it’s only fair if I get to see your face when I do this." He presses his lips firmly against your own before he pulls away, smirking.

"...w-what the hell Sherlock?!"

He laughs quietly as he crosses the room and picks up his violin. "What? It’s not like you're married or anything. Besides..." He smirks venomously. "You enjoyed it."