(Play the music above)

London, 1927

Below the clouds and under the haze of fog caused by the bumbling hordes of automobiles; through the pattering of grey raindrops falling unto the stony pavement below - there was a small, wooden sign swinging from above a door.

The painted letters of mahogany appeared to be chipping as they lay on the surface of the sign, spelling out the famous resident's name.

That name was none other than Sherlock Holmes, the greatest detective London had ever known.

Alas, as if the rain were any telling of what was to be, the town was dreary and grey. Hustles of men and women quietly stood outside the door as the maid ran back and forth to tell them the news.

Inside the house was not much better. The walls lined in the finest colours of deep chocolate and beige appeared dark and grey, so much so that even the light of the lantern could not eradicate the darkness from upon them. A faint tickle of the ivories was played and it echoed through the house hauntingly along with the dull dripping of rain that washed along with the glass windows like cold tears.

As one neared Sherlock's own bedroom, they were immediately met with this horrible sensation – one that sunk its teeth into the soul of each person that entered. One could almost smell its foul stench in the air; could hear it's cries as it preyed amongst the night.

Death was lingering and lurking for it's next meal - and it had surely found it - for there lay Mr. Sherlock Holmes, as pale as a ghost on his bed, surrounded by a throng of faces anticipating the moment when he breathed his last.

Whimpers sounded from women Sherlock couldn't even remember meeting, and bows of heads from men he'd never shook the hand of. He thought it ironic that these people only came to visit at a time when he was to die.

There were all but three people in the room he truly knew and cared about. Dr Watson, who sat upon a chair in the corner, looking old and worn and quite near the same place Sherlock was headed, and there was Irene, sobbing as she held unto his limp hand. Her gorgeous russet locks had lost their shine after so many years, now being replaced with dull grey hairs that encased the sharp angles of her face. Her deep, ocean like eyes had become rather jaded in her aging, yet still managed to save the caring they'd always held.

Oh Irene, Sherlock thought to himself as his eyes danced upon her face. She had far surpassed any mystery he'd been privy to. The two had met on one of his quests, and Irene had managed to find herself ensnared in just the thought of him. Sherlock himself was quite fond of the woman, and though neither would call their bond love, neither had been able to let each other go.

As the populace always anticipated as a product of such a bond, a child came. She came much, much later than what Irene had expected, and Sherlock had not expected her...at all. His eyes had seen the signs of pregnancy from his wife, and still yet his ears would not comprehend the news. Sherlock was convinced no one could.

His perspective on women had been rather untrusting, and yet now, he was married, and his wife with child! The crowds could hardly believe it. Sherlock had been certain that he could have made a pretty dime if he'd been paid for all the newspapers that had the news of his wife and child's birth printed upon them.

But alas, that time was through now, and he was left with the young woman standing at his bedside. She bore the same obnoxiously curled tresses as he; hers being lighter than his black ones. She had the bright, blue eyes of both her parents - eyes that previously sparkled, yet now were glistening with tears. Sherly Holmes was her name of course, courtesy of her father's brilliant mind and list of names therein.

He could remember each day he'd spent with her as a child, and it hit him, only now, that she'd grown into a gorgeous woman, standing at her mother's height beside his bed. She was crying for him and he wondered whether that was the cause of his insufferable and rare fathering. He'd barely say he was a loving father, rather an obligatory one. He tried his best to nurture and respect her throughout her life, but love was something his mind simply would not give.

He had never been an emotional human – his heart had always been guarded by the quick witted thinking of his mind. He'd never fallen into the trap of love that led so many astray.

Why did he feel it so now, however? Why did he feel as if his heart were a stick of dynamite waiting to blow in his chest? Why did he feel so down as he saw the tears running across the porcelain like skin of her face?

Letting out a long sigh, his hand reached into the pocket of his vest, and out from it was pulled the small, magnifying glass – the icon of his past. Looking to his daughter's eyes, he reached out for her hand and placed it there.

"Take this, and may it find you well." He told her. Her eyes searched his in a look of confusion, but her hand retracted with the object nonetheless.

"Oh my word," one person from the crowd gasped, "It's the magnifying glass from his old tutor!"

Sighing at the foolish comment, Sherlock looked towards his daughter, saying, "I bought it from an old merchant many years ago." He sent a glare toward the person who'd uttered whatever nonsense about his tutor before continuing, "For what's worth, he stripped me of my gold, but I suppose if one favors trinket things and such of the sort, then I don't see why it would be such a terrible purchase."

"Did you ever use it, sir?" One person inquired, interrupting him.

"No," Sherlock replied, rather annoyed at the man, "What would be the use of such an item if I own a pair of spectacles? Does the use of one magnifier over the other intensify the ability to see?"

The crowd was quiet, which allowed Sherlock continue his words to his daughter. "I'm unsure if it will be of much assistance to you, but it's really all I have to give."

Holding back a sob, his daughter clutched the magnifying glass to her heart and leant down to wrap an arm around his limp body, drawing him into an embrace.

"I'll treasure it forever, father."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Off unto a trot, aren't we Dr. Kim?" Mr. Jeon called back to his partner, who sat rather comfortably in the back of the automobile; his hand wrapped around the leather cover of a book.

Stripping his face of the metal framed spectacles, the older man – Mr. Kim - sighed and looked toward the review mirror to see his associate in the front of the car.

"Mr. Jeon," He began, "I have not acquired the skill to read and listen all at once."

"Oh, sorry sir." The younger lad quickly apologized, returning to an awkward position beside the driver.

"Your apology won't be of much use to me, Mr. Jeon. I suggest instead that you refrain from speaking until I am no longer reading."

"And when will that be, sir?"

Taehyung's dark eyes turned from the boy and out of the window pane beside him, his eyes filtering through the drips of rain upon it to see the stony street outside alive with the bustling of carts and cars.

"Soon, Mr. Jeon, very soon." 

A/N:

I swear I had to watch a lot of English/Victorian era movie clips to be able to write with such exquisite old English  😂😂

Legit tho I ain't write like that never so you're only gonna find this type of writing in this book and Circus of Coulrophobia.

I dunno why I do it to myself but I think it's because of my love for the 2005 movie Pride and Prejudice and my love for their absolute quick wittedness and comebacks and idk they were just a lot more refined.

Anyway, Mr always-got-comebacks is what I'm looking for with Tae and you bet there is gonna be some tension between him and Sherly otherwise my name aint E.T-

And Sherly - as in 4everSherlocked idk what your hair or eye colour is but I've always imagined you as a brunette so that's what we're going with lmao 

I'm kind of imagining Sherly as Elizabeth Banks high school photo because it looks a lot like Rachel Mcadams (I'm imagining her as Irene) and has similar eyes to Benedict Cumberbatch's eyes (Imagining him as sherlock and I think I have like  this massive actor crush on him but whatever ya know-) 

Kay bye