Chapter Text
Your P.O.V.
‘And then, he told me I was lowering the IQ of the whole street.’ Anderson ranted angrily, and you faked a gasp.
‘How rude!’ You exclaimed, feigning to be shocked, but honestly you thought it was pretty hilarious.
You were in the heart of London; a woman had been murdered in her hotel room near Piccadilly circus. It had been a bloody affair, of course DI Lestrade and his team had been called in on this particular case. You didn’t think it was a very complicated one, but Lestrade seemed to believe otherwise.
You were new on the forensics team of Scotland Yard, you were bright, witty and highly underrated. Today, they weren’t planning on even letting you in on the crime scene, but you had been acting sickly nice to one of the most respected employees: Anderson. Though you did not understand why anyone could tolerate him, he was an absolute moron in your opinion. Anderson had started ranting about this Holmes fellow and you had pretended like you were interested, and like you agreed with his short-minded opinion so they would let you in on the murder site.
‘Exactly!’ He said desperate, stepping into the room were the woman’s body lay.
‘Excuse me but sir, it is my first day here and I really would like to practise a bit. May I?’ You said as nicely and respectful as possible. You saw Anderson think really hard, and he had probably figured out that if he was nice to you, you would listen more to him.
‘Yes of course, but don’t damage anything, I still need to analyse her body.’ Anderson said, and you forced a smile.
You wouldn’t find mistakes on a case even if it was presented to you on a silver platter.
‘I’ll be extremely careful.’ You said as you snapped on some rubber gloves and crouched down by the body.
Since you were new, and you actually weren’t allowed on this premises you hadn’t gotten one of those ridiculous white suits. You were aware that you had to wear those to prevent contaminating the evidence, but you had pulled your hair back in a bun and you were actually extremely careful with every move you made.
You scanned her body. She had been fairly beautiful, nothing out of the ordinary though. Her clothes indicated that she had cared about fashion and that she had been wealthy. She had really cared for her skin, as you still saw a small smudge of cream on the side of her jaw. Her well-manicured nails indicated that she had been doing a job with not too much physical implications. And you saw the extravagant makeup tools she had stalled on her table, so you guessed she had been into makeup. She was probably a model, or a wannabe
Then for the injuries, god, this murderer had been thorough. Her body had multiple cuts, incredibly deep on different parts on her body.
5 Cuts, deep knife. Some bits of rusts had been left around the edges of the wounds, but the were pretty clean, you guessed carbon steel. They were inflicted viciously, but controlled. There were 3 cuts on her torso, one across her pectoral muscles, grazing on her clavicle and two across her lower abdomen, cutting through all major organs. If she hadn’t died of the loss of blood she would’ve died because none of her normal bodily function wasn’t cut up.
2 other cuts were spread across her legs, one in each, tracing down her skin vertically and mirroring each other. If you hadn’t seen much gorier murders, you might’ve become sick at this one.
So the person was controlled while he inflicted these injuries on her, and she was helpless, unconscious? She hadn’t been tied up, obviously, so was it chloroform? You bowed closer to her face and smelled at it, no traces to find, but you could’ve missed it, obviously. So was she knocked out cold before this? She would’ve felt the pain but her body would’ve gone into a coma, so that’s probable.
Where did she come from? Maybe-
‘Excuse me, miss!?’ A loud voice bellowed and pulled you out of your concentration, you would’ve snapped at the angry guy but you weren’t in charge here. It could cost you your job, and this was a great job.
You looked around and saw that everyone of the forensics team had left, including Anderson. Right now DI Lestrade was looking at you angrily with his arms folded and a slight crimson tint on his cheeks. There were two men standing next to him.
One man had blond, almost grey hair and had a curious look on his face. He wore an incredibly fluffy grey knitted sweater which made him look cute, but something about him made you believe he wasn’t one to be messed with.
The other one really caught your eye. He had dark curls that framed his face, making it look even paler then it even was. His icy blue eyes pierced through you as his gaze went over your whole body, probably analysing, you thought. He was handsome, obviously. But in a cold, intelligent kind of way, maybe even mysterious with the whole cheekbone thing.
‘Yes sir?’ You asked evenly, you were just doing your job.
‘Can you explain me what you are doing here?’ He asked you, more controlled this time.
‘My job sir, I’m on the forensics team.’ You said without a bite to it, if you had applied a great amount of sass on that you would’ve been fired in a blink of an eye.
‘Ah, you’re her, well, you must go now.’ He said, not really interested anymore.
‘Excuse me?’ You asked confused, he was asking you to leave the crime scene without giving a report?
‘Our external expert requires solitude while working, so you need to leave the room.’ He told you and you balled your fists, this was your first day on the job and you were doing pretty well. But you relaxed instantly, there would be more cases, more opportunities, there was no use in screwing it up now.
Sherlock P.O.V.
She was intelligent, that much he could see. A bit dull on the outside, but he saw that was just a façade. You were polite, but you were aching to work on this case, you were bright-eyed and eager to find out every little secret about her murder.
He had been in a good mood today; it had always made him impulsive.
‘Will you be in need of a report?’ She asked Lestrade, with concealed annoyance. She was obviously making a choice for the long run, clever.
‘Yes, an objective party always seems to help in an investigation.’ Sherlock said politely, hoping to stimulate her interest for murder investigations. John had made him soft.
Her clear eyes fixed on him, and he saw as she analysed him for a second time. Her eyes squinted slightly but she nodded politely. Sherlock stretched out his hand and opened it, so she could put her notebook in it, but she just stared at it with a small frown.
‘Your notes, please.’ John said, seeing that the girl didn’t understand what his friend meant.
‘I had too little time to make notes, I was still observing.’ You said with constrained anger, reminding them they had interrupted her. Sherlock felt an urge to smirk, but repressed it. She had a strong sense of pride, but she was good at keeping it to herself.
‘Well then, let me know what you thought.’ Sherlock said impatiently, he had been so incredibly bored the past few hours. John hadn’t sufficed enough with entertainment, and he needed someone to let out his frustrations. Obviously this average girl would make a mess out of it.
‘Very well, are you interested in the medical facts or more in the ones that’ll point you to the killer?’ She asked, ever so polite.
She must’ve figured out that we were detectives, well that should speed things up.
‘The latter.’ Sherlock said, walking over to the opposite side of the body and snapping on some gloves for himself. The girl just nodded.
She doesn’t like chitchat, lovely.
‘A carbon steel dagger was used for these five cuts. She died of the blood loss of her wounds, which were inflicted very carefully, so I’m suspecting a man with psychopathic tendencies-’ She said professionally but was cut off.
‘A man?’ Lestrade asked and Sherlock saw a slight grin spread on her face before it quickly fade away and she turned to Lestrade.
She does enjoy showing off her knowledge, not that she has much.
‘Most certainly, I smelled the manly cologne on her while searching for traces of chlorine.’ She told him and Sherlock had to be a bit impressed, this girl was slightly above average.
‘She could’ve been with a man before she was killed.’ John suggested and the girl slightly shook her head.
‘Obviously not, a woman so obsessed with her appearance wouldn’t have gone to see a man while dressed in jeans, no matter how expensive they were.’ Sherlock explained and the girl raised a brow at him, impressed, he guessed. She looked down and her eyes lingered on his hands.
‘Huh, violin.’ She whispered. And it caught Sherlock’s attention.
That was quite the deduction, I hadn’t expected her to be so advanced in this field.
But before he could ask any questions to her, he had to answer the detective’s.
‘That’s quite tricky Sherlock, just a guess, maybe she was different.’ Lestrade said and the girl had turned her attention back on the body.
‘They never are.’ She muttered, not thinking anyone would hear.
‘Who did it?’ John asked, and he looked up at him, not even with a smile.
‘Well?’ Sherlock asked the girl, who had stood up. He got up too, and looked a bit down on her, she had placed a hand on her chin and seemed to be deep in thought.
‘I’m not sure, but I think the most logical explanation is that she was running from a stalker and that’s why she stayed here temporarily.’ She said and Sherlock nodded, she was more interesting than he had initially thought.
‘She was fleeing? How did you know?’ Lestrade asked, and the girl smiled, lifting two similar keys.
‘She apparently lives in the same building as I do, and fleeing from someone is the most logical explanation for staying at a hotel in the same city as your home.’ She said with a big grin on her face, obviously proud.
‘Lestrade, whenever I’m called to a case, I want her to be there on forensics, ditch Anderson.’ Sherlock said to Lestrade, and a smile spread across her face.
‘I can’t do that; Anderson has more experience then her.’ Lestrade counter argued and Sherlock heard the girl mutter a ‘heaven’s sake.’ to herself.
She thinks he’s stupid too, splendid.
‘I don’t care, do it.’ He said, while walking away and leaving them alone.
Your P.O.V.
Somehow, that man, who had proved to be extremely intelligent had thought you were smarter than Anderson. His name was Sherlock, rather strange, but it suited him.
But Anderson’s stupid, so that isn’t the most difficult thing, really.
‘Come on, let’s get out of here.’ Lestrade said to you, mentioning for you to come along.
He seemed pretty nice, fairly intelligent and friends with Sherlock, you decided that you would listen to what he said without any comments. Well, that is if his orders aren’t stupid.
‘Check all her devices, if you find any traces of a stalker, he’s the killer.’ Lestrade ordered one of the police officers as you walked down the corridors towards the entrance.
‘Did freak solve it yet?’ A rather obnoxious police officer asked Lestrade as she walked beside him, giving you no attention whatsoever.
‘No, she did and he confirmed it.’ Lestrade sighed, not slowing down.
Freak? Did she refer to Sherlock? That was incredibly rude.
‘We’re going down the station to write an official report for this case, and you’re going to help me. Is that clear?’ Lestrade asked you and you nodded decisively, he was a good DI.
The drive to the station was boring, and so was writing the report. You even showed off in it by writing down every detail you had noticed about her, from the most insignificant dust particle to the goriest parts of the inflictions. When you were done you sighed and handed it to Lestrade. He read through it and raised his eyebrows.
‘I’m promoting you to the new head of forensics, you will be taking Anderson’s place.’ He said without looking up from the report, you took in a sharp breath.
‘Thank you, Sir.’ You said breathlessly, you had hoped you would receive some respect, but you had never dreamt of this.
‘Yeah yeah, you’ll have to thank Sherlock Holmes, not me. Now off you go.’ Lestrade said and you nodded quickly, leaving before he could change his mind.
You stepped into a cab and told the driver where to go to. Your phone ringed a single time and you looked on it to see who had texted you, it was an unrecognisable number.
Meet me at 221B Baker street, we have matters to discuss –SH
You looked at it, a bit stunned at first, but then you grinned, SH, it must be Sherlock Holmes.
‘Sir, could you change the route to 221 B Baker street?’ You asked the driver nervously and he looked surprised.
‘Off to Mister Holmes’s place? What have you gotten yourself into, lass?’ He asked you friendly and you smiled a bit awkwardly.
‘Nothing, yet.’ You said and he laughed, a friendly silence descending between the two of you. At the end of the ride you paid him and said your goodbye quickly as you got out and took in your new surroundings.
221…B… Ah! There you are!
You knocked on the door nervously, you were here to see mister Holmes, and you would tell the one who would open the door. Except if it was Sherlock himself, that would make no sense. But the door was quickly answered by a nice looking lady.
‘Good evening, I’m here to see Mister Holmes.’ You said politely to the elder woman, and you felt proud that you had asked it without stuttering.
‘Of course my dear, come in, It’s freezing outside.’ She said as she ushered you inside, you instantly liked her, she was like a sweet grandma that would hit anyone that didn’t accept her cookies.
‘Thank you.’ You said as you looked around, it was a cute house, rather home-y in your opinion.
‘Well, you’ll find him up the stairs. Then to the right, or follow the sound of the music, that’ll do too.’ She told you as she made her way to her apartment, you guessed that she had to do this a lot.
You walked up and heard the screeching sounds of a violin rebound against the old walls of this complex.
Ha! I knew it was violin, great, that must’ve left him with quite the first impression of me. Now I’ll have to convince him that I’m as smart as he thinks I am, bollocks.
You timidly knocked on the front door, but the music never faltered. You were afraid he hadn’t heard it, but if he had and you would knock again you might come across as impatient and annoying. So you hesitated, but then knocked again, a bit louder.
‘For God’s sake Sherlock, I was in the bathroom.’ You heard the man scold muffled by the door, as he opened it and looked at you in surprise.
‘Oh, hello.’ He said to you, surprise written over his face, a blush crept on your cheeks as you realised Sherlock hadn’t told him you were coming.
‘Good evening, Mr. Holmes contacted me to discuss something.’ You said shyly, and John smiled friendly.
‘I’m sorry if he caused you trouble; he can be an arse sometimes.’ John said to you as he stepped to the side, motioning for you to get in, you muttered a thank you and decided what to reply.
‘We haven’t been introduced yet, my name’s (Y/N) (Y/L/N).’ You said to him as you reached out to shake his hand, he quickly reacted by grabbing your hand and giving a firm shake.
‘John Watson, pleasure to meet you. That was quite the show you put on back in the hotel.’ He said to you approvingly and you smiled, planning on thanking him.
‘It wasn’t a show, John, she was merely solving a case. (Y/N), sit down, John will make you tea if you’d like that.’ He said quickly, and you nodded, sitting down.
‘I’d like to thank you for today, I’ve been promoted to head of forensics.’ You said as you smiled at him, he didn’t smile back, he just stared at you with those illuminating eyes.
‘You’re taking Anderson’s place?’ John asked as he gave you a cup of tea you hadn’t asked for, you felt awkward, but you managed to keep calm and relaxed on the outside.
‘I do believe so, yes.’ You told him politely, as you tried to ignore your sweaty palms and slight trembling. You saw that Sherlock frowned a bit.
‘How did you know about the violin?’ He asked you and you smirked, you had been prepared to this question and you felt confidence seep into your chest as you sat a bit straighter and held your mug less tight.
‘I noticed the hard skin on top of your right hand and prints from strings, which indicates you play an instrument, as I’ve seen many times before with myself. However, they weren’t in the right direction to be from a cello, so it was a violin.’ You said, and you saw John look in surprise.
‘What about a guitar?’ He asked you and you nodded slightly.
‘That’s true, I hadn’t considered a guitar, Mister Holmes just strikes me more like a classical music lover rather then guitar.’ You said, again with a polite smile.
‘You stopped trembling.’ Sherlock observed, and you looked down at your hands, seeing how the nervousness was taking over again.
‘Don’t worry, it’s coming back.’ You said with a bit of a sad smile as you tried to steady the mug.
‘How bad is it?’ He asked you, and you immediately knew what he was talking about.
‘Could be worse, but it isn’t really something to be ignored.’ You shrugged it off, you didn’t want to spend too much attention to it.
‘What are you talking about?’ John said, completely lost.
‘Her social anxiety, John, obviously. Try to keep up please.’ He said curtly as you threw him an apologetic smile.
‘How?’ He asked Sherlock, ready to be baffled again.
‘She’s extremely timid, shy even, but only on certain moments. She was hesitant in knocking again, even though she knew I was expecting her, and most of her comments she says only to herself, even though they’re somewhat intelligent. That can only be caused by a fear of being wrong and being mocked at, also she’s quite jumpy.’ He said to John as he looked at you once again, you scoffed.
‘Do you blame me? I’m sitting on a sofa in the home of two strangers, of which one has acquired my phone number even though I haven’t given him it.’ You shot back at him without any sign of tremble of fear in your voice. Sherlock immediately leaped upward and pointed one of his elegant fingers towards you.
‘That’s it!’ He exclaimed while starting to pace around the apartment.
‘That’s what, Sherlock?’ John said annoyed to his friend.
‘You have the potential of not being an idiot, (Y/N), but you’re way too stupid at the moment to show it. Except when we were at the case, and when you get agitated.’ He told you and you were honestly surprised, he thought you could be more then and idiot, marvelous.
‘And what could I do to complete my transformation to a non-idiot?’ You asked him challengingly, with the slightest bit of sarcasm in your voice. All the comments you usually make in your head, or under your breath, you were shooting towards Sherlock, and it felt good.
‘Go with John and me to our cases, learn, observe.’ He said to you, his eyes seeing the last bit of your soul, or so it felt.
‘That’s actually a great idea, since I’m not always available anymore, do you live close?’ John asked you and you put all your sass back in your mind, you smiled a bit ruefully at him.
‘No, sorry, it’s almost a half-hour drive from my apartment.’ You told him, hoping that the offer of being Sherlock’s apprentice would still be on the table.
‘You are going to move in here, in John’s room. He doesn’t use it anymore since he moved out, and that way we’ll be quicker.’ Sherlock said, finally sitting down again and resting his head on one of his hands.
‘John?’ You asked him, you thought that would be the politest thing to do.
‘I’m fine with it, really. There has to be someone with some manners that’ll keep an eye on him.’ John said with a small smile and you nodded thankfully.
‘Do you have a lot to move?’ He asked you and you shook your head.
‘Just my bag and some other things, I moved here about a week ago so I’m well-prepared, It’s kind of a coincidence.’ You said to the gentlemen in front of you.
Sherlock leaned forwards with a wolfish grin on his face, ready to make the statement that would determine whether you’ll stay or leave.
‘Dear (Y/N), the universe is rarely so lazy.’
I’m going to stay.