"So you are wanting to move out?" Mr. Hunt asked as he sat at the end of the table.

The Hunt family was sat together eating dinner like they usually do.

"It's just an idea. Sherlock suggested a good place and-" Phoebe began to explain.

"Sherlock? You went to see him again?" Mrs. Hunt questioned before putting her hand over her mouth. "Oo! Sorry! I didn't mean to interrupt you dear."

"It's alright, mother. But yes, I went to see Sherlock. He said that there was a flat owned by his landlady that I could move into. I also might be able to find a place to start my bakery up around there," Phoebe explained and her father hummed in thought as he looked at his plate.

"You'll still come visit though right?" Theo piped up as he looked at Phoebe with worry in his green eyes.

"Of course I will! And if you want to come over too, you can. That is if I decide to move there," Phoebe answered as she ruffled his fluffy brown hair.

"I wanna see was Sherlock is like! I don't remember him," Theo said as he looked at his sister. "Can we go see him tomorrow?"

"Well I have to go see him tomorrow anyways, but I'm gonna say no to tomorrow," Phoebe spoke and her brother slumped. "Only because he said he was gonna be meeting someone tomorrow and I don't know if this person is trustworthy yet. I'll find another day, I promise."

"Promise?" Theo perked up again.

"Promise," Phoebe agreed with a warm smile.

🔎

Phoebe walked over to Baker Street once again and hummed when she saw a stranger standing at the door.

"Hello?" Phoebe spoke as the man reached for the door handle.

He jumped slightly and turned to look at her. "Oh, hello! You must be Mrs Hudson. Stamford told me you are the landlady of these flats," the man replied as he bowed slightly.

"Hm? Oh, no, that's not me. My name is Phoebe Hunt. I'm a close aquaintance of Sherlock Holmes," Phoebe introduced herself as she smiled, holding out a hand. "You must be the one Sherlock said was coming over today to interview for a possible flat share."

"Yes, that's me. My name is Doctor John H Watson. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Hunt," John gently took her hand and kissed her knuckles.

"I'll come inside with you. The flat is just up the front stairs," Phoebe said as she opened the door for John.

Almost immediately they both smelled a foul aroma in the air.

"What is that smell?" Phoebe questioned as her nose scrunched up in disgust.

"Not sure, but it's coming from upstairs," John replied as he lead the way up the stairs. "Excuse me, but is anybody up there?"

"Sherlock?" Phoebe called out as she cautiously followed John up to the flat.

Upon turning onto the landing, John saw a man lying in a pool of blood in a room down the hall.

"Good Lord! Are you alright?" John shouted as he dashed over, Phoebe following suit.

"Sherlock?! My God! What happened?!" Phoebe began to panic as John checked Sherlock's body.

"His pulse is normal. Body temperature's unaffected," John stated before proceeding to force sherlock's mouth open. "Nothing's blocking his airway. No sign of an external injury. Yet, blood is exiting the body."

"Tell med, what's the time?" Sherlock spoke from his position on the floor, nearly giving Phoebe a heartattack as Watson jumped back with a light gasp. Sherlock reached for the doctor's pocket watch chain before looking at the watch itself. "Blast! It can't be that late already!"

'What the hell?" Phoebe glared at the psychotic man.

"Must've dozed off!" Sherlock scrambled up and ran over to a desk where there was a cup with some yellow liquid in it.

"I, um... pardon, are you alright?" John questioned in disbelief as looked over at Sherlock. "You're bleeding."

"Oh, this? Just a spot of cow's blood," Sherlock brushed it off to which Phoebe stood up and started towards him. "Absolutely smashing! There was a reaction! The experiment was a success! Look Phee!"

"The what?" John raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting between the two others in the room.

"I've created an agent that precipitates when it comes into contact with blood. This test allows you to detect its presence, even the smallest stains several months old," Sherlock explained as he held the cup up for John to see.

"Hmm, fascinating," John muttered as he looked into the yellow liquid.

Sherlock proceeded to lift the cup into the light of the sun that was streaming in through the window. "Someday it'll be common practice. There's telling the number of murder cases that this will end up overturning. Despite their similarities, the tincture of guaiac method is far less reliable, requires more work, and takes longer to give you results. Whereas this tes- just who are you?"

Phoebe facepalmed as she leaned her weight on her right leg.

"Oh! Sorry. My name is John H Watson. Am I safe to presume you're Sherlock Holmes? My friend Stamford says that you have a room to lend," John introduced himself while holding his hat over his chest respectfully.

"Home from the Afghan War, Doctor?" Sherlock deduced as he approached the newcomer.

John stood a bit straighter in shock as Sherlock leaned closer to him. "How did you know?"

"Using simple deduction, my dear fellow," Sherlock responded easily with a grin. "Upon discovering me, you went to check my pulse, then my breathing, attempting to diagnose my malady. They were the actions of someone trained in the medical arts. Furthermore, you show signs of a sunburn. It's be difficult achieving that complexion in London this time of year."

Phoebe hummed as she looked at the two and she nearly laughed at the look on John's face. She had missed watching Sherlock deduce people like this.

"John H. Watson, medic stationed in Afghanistan, retired and returned home. The pocket watch I checked earlier is the one that is issued upon disscharge from the army. Now you're in need of a place to live. But residing in a hotel on a soldier's pension? Obviously sharing a flat is more practical. Thus, why you are here," Sherlock continued as he paced in front of John.

"My, good show. Well deduced, sir. As you said, I am indeed a medic recently home from the Afghan War," John confirmed as he smiled. "And if I might add, quite happily so."

"Good show?" Sherlock asked with a grin as he reached behind his head, gathering his hair into a mid ponytail. "Indeed. Maybe write, oh, something like, 'My new flatmate is bloody brilliant.' How's that? You are an avid writer? The ink smudges on your right thumbnail tell the story."

"Yes. I am." John nodded as he glanced down at his fingers in shock.

"Well, we'd best be off," Sherlock said as he walked over to grab his suit jacket, slipping it on.

"Off? Where to?" John turned to question the man.

"See our landlady, Miss Hudson. She's invited us to dinner to conduct a formal interview with you," Sherlock explained and Phoebe smiled as she walked towards the door.

"By all means, lead the way. Also, please call me John, both of you," the army doctor requested as he looked between Phoebe and Sherlock.

"All right, John. I don't see any issue with you, but ultimately it's up to dear Miss Hudson to decide the final verdict," Sherlock replied before turning to Phoebe. "I told Miss Hudson that I wanted you to take 221C, but that you weren't sure if you wanted to. You can talk to her about that if you'd like to come with."

Phoebe stood there for a moment in thought before turning her gaze from the floor back up to Sherlock. "I think I wanna do it."

"Really? You're sure?" Sherlock double checked, a look of excitement spreading across his face.

"I'm sure," Phoebe confirmed to which Sherlock grinned.

"Great! Let's go talk to Miss Hudson! I'm sure she'll love you, John! And I already know she loves you, Phee! I think your pie really won her over," Sherlock said as he turned to leave.

John walked out as well, looking to Phoebe. "Here, if you-" He held his arm out for her to take, only for Sherlock to step between them as Phoebe was about to loop her arm with the doctor's.

Sherlock instead looped his own arm with Phoebe's and smiled bright. "Let's be off!"

Phoebe gave Sherlock a questioning look but just shook it off.

-

"A toast to John!" Sherlock announced with a grin as he stood with his stein raised in the air. "And also finally being able to split the rent!"

"That's contingent on whether he gets my okay," Miss Hudson reminded as she closed her eyes, clearly over Sherlock's shit.

"Of course," Sherlock agreed. "And we're here to discuss this matter sensibly over alcohol."

"Cheers," the four of them all clinked steins before Miss Hudson downed her drink in one go.

Phoebe took a tiny sip, nearly gagging at the taste.

"Still not a fan of alcohol?" Sherlock teased to which she grimaced

"Ha, well, I'm surprised by Martha," Phoebe replied as she looked at her fellow brunette.

"Had a rough day?" John asked the landlady with a closed eye smile.

"Well, you see, Miss Hudson's been under some considerable stress for some reason," Sherlock explained as he leaned over the table.

"And are you able to deduce where the majority of that stress comes from?!" Martha snapped to which Phoebe frowned at Sherlock.

"I have some inkling as to its source," John admitted as he looked at Miss Hudson. "But, ma'am still, Sherlock does possess an incredible talent. Frankly, his powers of observation rendered me speechless. He has a gift for perspicacity."

"I know. Though, it's a shame he chooses to squander his abilities. When I think about how the world won't be improved by his cunning mind, it makes me positively- Just where are you going?!" Miss Hudson turned and screamed at him as he tried to sneak away.

"Just off to the loo, mum," Sherlock replied with a sly grin.

"Oh? Trying to run away?" Martha pushed up oujt of her seat.

"I swear I'll return. Although, if you'd prefer, Phoebe could accompany to keep a watchful eye," Sherlock retorted, giving Phoebe a playful wink.

Her cheeks flushed pinks as her eyes widened. "Excuse me?!"

"Holmes! Please!" John looked at the man in shock.

"Honestly! That man has nary a shred of decency," Miss Hudson scoffed as Sherlock chuckled and disappeared into the loo.

"If I may ask, Miss Hudson, Phoebe, just what sort of man is Sherlock?" John asked as he switched his gaze between the two brunettes/

"I couldn't tell you! On my life, I will never understand what makes him tick. His mind's constantly drifting off, thinking about who knows what. Often he won't come home for two or three days, no explanation! Other times he'll lock himself away in his office, ignoring me. The cruelty," Martha complained as she looked away.

"It is true, he can be kind on the rarest of occasions," Phoebe put in as she looked at her hands that were folded on the table.

"But that doesn't give him a pass for acting like a child!" Martha continued as she huffed in annoyance. "Which is why I must insist his housemate  be a fully grounded individual."

"You worry about him, don't you, Miss Hudson?" John smiled as the landlady froze. "Almost as if you were family."

Martha hummed softly as she looked at John with a smile, nodding a bit.

After a bit, Sherlock came out of the restroom and sighed, taking a grape from a basket on the bar. "Well, time to survey the damage. Hope John's okay. I know Phee will be fine."

He took a glance over to the table of three he had previously been at, pausing before he could eat the grape he was holding. The three were talking about John during the war as SHerlock walked over to them.

"Get lost on your way back?" Phoebe teased when she noticed Sherlock coming back over.

"Um, yeah. So you three seem like you're getting along swimmingly," Sherlock said as he looked at Miss Hudson, seemingly shocked by what he was witnessing.

"Sure. Mister Watson's a down to earth gentleman, unlike you. And Phoebe is a pleasant woman to be around. To think that you used to be friends with such a woman," Martha replied as she smiled over at Phoebe who shook her head.

"We weren't-" Phoebe started before Sherlock pit his hands on her shoulders.

"I consider myself pretty lucky! Isn't she amazing?!" Sherlock grinned as he beamed down at Phoebeto which she grimaced.

"She is quite lovely to be around. Though, the name Hunt sounds familiar," John said as he put a finger to his chin in thought.

"My father is Lord Alastor Hunt," Phoebe explained as she smiled.

"That would definitely explain it," John said as he nodded.

Then a man approached them. "Forgive me for interrupting your festivities."

"Lestrade?" Miss Hudson looked at the man with a pleasant smile.

"Beg your pardon, but who is this?" John asked as he turned his gaze to Martha.

"Mister Watson, Miss Hunt, allow me to introduce Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard," Martha introduced, letting Phoebe and John look at the new man.

"The police?" John questioned.

Phoebe heard a squealing noise from behind her so she turned to see Sherlock brimming with excitement. He then burst with a shout of joy.

"Yes! Payday has arrived!" Sherlock exclaimed as he beamed.

"Afraid you lost me," John admitted as he looked at Sherlock.

"You see this is my half of the rent," Sherlock explained, resting a hand on Lestrade's shoulder with a grin. "Whenever the police have a case beyond their wits, they eventually reach out to me. I then step in and solve it as the world's foremost consulting detective."

"That's your profession?" John questioned, furrowing his brows at the man.

"Well, let's be off. No point standing around here," Sherlock said as he started to make his way to the exit of the bar. "So where's the crime scene? Walking distance or carriage ride?"

"Sorry, Holmes, but this case is slightly different," Lestrade spoke up, standing in place.

"Huh?" Sherlock paused as he turned to look behind him.

"Tonight, at about roughly ten pm, the murdered body of Lord Drebber was discovered. Before the man died, he left us a clue. A message next to his body, written in blood. Just one word, 'Sherlock'," Lestrade elucidated.

"Really?" Sherlock narrowed his eyes as theories already began running through his ever energetic mind.

"I want you to know if gives me no pleasure doing this," Lestrade continued as he walked over to the consulting detective, locking the handcuffs around his wrists. "But, Sherlock Holmes, I'm placing you under arrest on suspicion of murder. Don't make a scene."