It didn't take long for the cab to pull up to 221 Baker Street, and you paid him quickly, pulling your bag from the vehicle. You looked around to markers that would tell you where you were, places you'd use to sneak around, and after you were happy with what you saw, strutted confidently up to the door. You knocked two firm knocks. It wasn't a minute before the door swung open, revealing a man only about seven years older than yourself. Supposedly John and his father had been in a US/British cross unit. Hm. You took note of him following in his father's footsteps, and how nervous he seemed.
"Y/n! Glad to finally meet you, your older brother, Dean, used to be a good friend of mine!" He was lying. They'd met maybe twice, but it was obvious John cared little for Dean. That was alright. You nodded politely, giving him a warm smile. His dusty blonde hair was done in typical military fashion, and his eyes were a warm, inviting blue tone.
"Same goes to you, John! Thank you so much for letting me stay for a bit, it means a lot to me!" You pretended to be excited, but inside you hated relying on others.
"Of course! But I must warn you of Sherlock, my flat mate, he's a little... Well, eccentric." He told you as he led you up the stairs to his flat, and he gave you one more cautious look before opening up the door. The first thing you noticed about the man who stood there was be was doing the same thing the man from the airport had. Was London full of people who could deduce? Maybe you'd fit in better than you thought here. Next was the little things he tried so desperately to hide. Two brothers, one deceased or incarcerated, detective, but not on a detective's salary, that's interesting. Skilled strings musician, from the violin in the corner, it was obvious he was a violinist. Extremely intelligent, ex addict. Recovering smoker.
"Oh, dear me, I'll try to avoid smoking around you then." You accidentally thought aloud. It was a bad habit that Dean had tried so hard to break. Both men looked inquisitively at you.
"Repeat that?" A baritone voice demanded, swirling from the tight lips that laid between two exceedingly high cheek bones. His gorgeous blue-grey eyes continued to look for details, suggesting how you knew that.
"I'll try to avoid smoking around you. I don't often, but sometimes it helps me think." You stated as if it were obvious.
"You read John's blog? Didn't peg you as the type." You furrowed your brow in confusion, and looked at John.
"You have a blog?" This seemed to almost startle Sherlock.
"Aw, you deduce. Tell me, what do you see?" He demanded, and you scoffed. Wasn't he a little high and mighty? Oh well, it was better than Dean telling you not to.
"What do I see, hmm? Bland question. Your a detective of sorts, but basing on your salary, not of the usual sort. You struggle to contain your boredom, and you seem to deduce as well. You should tell me what you know about me, as well, Sherlock, is it? Anyways, you have two brothers, one who has died," you paused and noticed Sherlock didn't react, "Or has been incarcerated," His eyes flicked away for a swift moment as he blinked, then returned to you, "Ah! Incarcerated, should've known. Ex-addict, my brother was, too, though I highly doubt for the same substance. Terrible, really. You're wearing nicotine patches, so clearly you smoked, and are attempting to quit. You should let me hear you play the violin some time, based on the callouses from your fingers you're extremely talented. I'm used to ACDC all day long, may be a relaxing change." Sherlock smirked at you, and John was completely shocked.
"Amazing!" He stated, before adding, "Bloody hell, now I've to deal with two?!" You and Sherlock shared a small look of amusement before Sherlock began.
"Superstitious, hunter of sorts, you should tell me of what, most make it pretty obvious, but you hide it very well. Two brothers, one about John's age, the other only older by a few minutes. You had a falling out with them. Mother died when you were young, and when you weren't neglected for being some frail girl in your primarily male family, you were being trained. You are highly skilled in combat, and obviously firearms. He died more recently, but not long ago. As I previously stated, you recently had a falling out with your brothers, which brought you to London. You plan on continuing the 'family business' here." You nodded, confirming he was right.
"I think we'll get along fine." You mentioned to John, adding a tight lipped smile. John was still worried, yet amazed. He nodded, agreeing with you.
"Indeed, care to join John and I on a case?" He offered, grabbing his coat, and letting it fly around him as he pulled it on.
"Sounds entertaining." You willingly accepted.
"Oh, it is!" He flew out the door, you and John trailing behind. You wouldn't just fit in here in London, you'd love it! Moriarty, all the while, was watching Sherlock, waiting for him to start the newest game. It surprised him when you entered Sherlock's flat, but it was obvious you hadn't had any prior contact with Sherlock, but he felt almost jealous.
"He has two live-ins now? That isn't quite fair. I have none... Hm, well, we should probably fix that." He stood up calmly, exiting the room in the building across from Sherlock, and was greeted by the same jet black car as before, repeating his previous actions to get in, and this time he followed Sherlock.