❝Living below Sherlock
Holmes? It'll be a treat.❞

Beyond the time on which we encountered the painful reunion between a brother and sister, was a fairly similar occasion.

Many miles away from the once darkened street stood Baker Street. A place which two men had lived together for just a short amount of time. 

The detective, the famous detective, which people know as Sherlock Holmes, was rather childishly sitting in his preferred chair, a silver plated gun in once hand. He carried a face, which was disappointed-- he was bored. And his blogger room mate was clenching his jaw and awaited for the moment in which Sherlock would finally express himself through the fine, sharp bullets that would plunge through the walls directly in front of him. 

The silence was uneasy and the detective was about to blow up soon enough. 

Sherlock jumped up onto his feet and swung the gun around around him, before letting himself loose. 

"Bored!" Sherlock yelled and the bullets pierced into a rather badly drawn, yellow, smiley face and John blocked, or attempted to block noise. 

"Sherlock, I know that it's been a slow week , but something'll come up-" John explained, although Sherlock repeated his previous words, before letting all hell break loose.

"Bored, bored!" The sound of footsteps got nearer and nearer to the two boys. They were fairly light and they treaded slowly up the stair, despite knowing that they wanted to go faster. 

It was Mrs Hudson.

"Oh Sherlock! Any day I'd catch you shooting, but today!" Sherlock frowned.

"Mrs Hudson please say something, since it is physically painful watching you speculate words to create a sentence." John rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw, sighing.

"Sherlock, stop being an arsehole."

"We have another person willing to join us! She's taken the apartment downstairs!" Mrs Hudson whispered happily. Sherlock lifted his eyebrows.

"She?" John asked.

"John refrain yourself from any intimacy from this woman, as we go and extend a small hello to her." Sherlock pulled down his suit jacket and titled his neck several times, before throwing the gun at John and rushing down the stairs. Mrs Hudson shook her head and John swallowed hard.

He was wondering what his flatmate was up to.

John placed the gun somewhere out of reach from Sherlock, although it wouldn't do much-- he'd just deduce where to find it again.

He then followed his master down the stairs to the woman. Sherlock however, did not approach her-- he instead loitered in the doorway as she looked at the rather small apartment.

She was tall, but not as tall as Sherlock. Her hair was brown and wavy and she slowly eyed the room. Turning around, she gasped-- and that was when they saw her face.

Her face was small and oval, her cheekbones high. Her jaw softly narrowing into a proportionate chin.

"Oh! Sorry I was-"

"Looking at the apartment, yes, we know." She frowned.

"How did you know?" Smirking, she licked her lips. Sherlock simpered slightly.

"Mrs Hudson told me." He took a step forward. "Sherlock Holmes. Consulting detective." Victoria bowed slightly and nodded.

"Victoria. Justice." Victoria has wished to keep her own name-- she loved it and knew that Sherlock would grow to love it too.

"John. Watson, but it doesn't matter." She giggled quietly and peered her hand over Sherlock's shoulders.

"Nice to meet you both. I will moving in today. I have a few belongings-" She was interuppted by her phone. "- but work is also part of my belongings, so... I best be going." Reaching into her pocket, she rushed out of the door and began walking to the main road. "Everything is just fine brother."

Victoria's accent changed. "It's in progress... I'll be at my new job soon and I can't wait... Living under Sherlock Holmes, it'll be a splendid treat."