I don't own anything except the plot! BBC Sherlock is owned by Steven Moffat and Mark Gatis and Sherlock Holmes is owned by Author Conan Doyle! You are obviously owned by you, I have no right over you :)

~

"No," (Y/n) said, setting her sandwich down. "I believe that everyone has someone special for them, waiting somewhere. You just have to find them at the right time!"

(F/n) shook their head. "If you say so. But that mindset isn't gonna get you anywhere in life."

(Y/n) shrugged. "Believe what you will- I believe in love." She sighed happily.

(F/n) rolled thejr eyes, biting into their own sandwich from across the table. "Alright."

(Y/n) picked her sandwich back up and looked down at it. "He's out there, somewhere, (f/n), I just know it!"

(F/n) sighed dramatically. "Stop it with the love talk, (Y/n)! I wanna eat my lunch!"

(Y/n) huffed. "Fine. But," she pointed a finger at (f/n). "You'll see when I find my special someone!"

The bell rang and (f/n) dramatically sighed, shoving the rest of their sandwich in their mouth before collecting their trash and standing up. "Alright, (y/n). Whatever you say."

(Y/n) smiled.

~

(Y/n) woke with a jolt.

Blinking, she sat up, noticing the blue leather seats around her, filled with other people.

Her attention was grabbed by a neon light above her seat, the seatbelt sign.

Right, she was on an airplane heading towards London. (Y/n) felt a jolt of excitement as the intercom crackled on and the pilot informed them that they were about to descend and would be landing in approximately five minutes.

Putting her seatbelt on, she sat in her seat, eyes wide with anticipation.

Pulling out her phone, (Y/n) checked the time. 2:40. That was enough time to book a hotel for a few weeks until she could find a house, right?

Catching her reflection in her dark screen, she frowned. Turning on her camera, she smoothed down her (h/c) hair using her fingers as a comb, readjusted her (f/c) shirt, and touched up the little makeup she had on her face.

Satisfied with her appearance, she smiled, studying her (e/c) eyes. (E/c) with gold flecks.

(Y/n) felt the plane jostle and she quickly shut her phone off, watching the neon seatbelt sign. The moment the light switched off, she practically jumped out of her seat and into the isle, opening an overhead compartment and pulling down her belongings.

She was ready to leave in a matter of seconds, but it appeared no one else shared her enthusiasm and she sighed, realizing it may take a while.

"Escuse me.. sorry... escuse me, ma'am, may I get past you?" (Y/n) turned to see a man about her same hight with short, grey hair, blue-grey eyes and a nervous expression.

"Oh, sorry! Of course!" (Y/n) pressed herself against the seats as the man squeezed past her, reaching to an overhead compartment and pulling out his own small, brown bag.

Setting it on the ground, he closed the compartment and turned to (Y/n). "Sorry about that." He spoke in a smooth English accent.

(Y/n) grinned. "No worries! I'm (Y/n) Rose, by the way." (Y/n) stuck her hand out.

The man looked at it, seeming to study it, before grasping it in his own and looking up at her. "John. John H. Watson. Nice to meet you, (Y/n)."

John gave her a firm handshake, his grip tight but gentle at the same time.

"You too, John." John gave a small, tight smile.

"Anywho, what brings you to London?" John asked. (Y/n) struggled to keep her face straight, resisting the urge to laugh at John's 'wot'. "(Y/n)?"

"Oh! Sorry, I zoned out a bit there." (Y/n) apologized, regaining control. "I'm moving here from America. I wanted something knew, a change of scenery, if you know what I mean." She explain.

John nodded. "That's nice. I've just returned from a family reunion." (Y/n) laughed.

"I hate family reunions. Don't get me wrong, I love my family, but there's just something about them.."

John let out a short laugh. "Exactly! No clue why I went in tbe first place, but thank gosh it's over." John shook his head. "I just hope my flatmate didn't destroy the place. He can be a bit of a struggle at times."

(Y/n) frowned slightly. "Flatmate? What?"

"Oh! Yes-" John smiled. "A flat is like an apartment."

"So a flatmate is essentially a roommate?" (Y/n) asked cautiously. John nodded.

"Precisely!"

(Y/n) and John walked down the boarding ramp and into a fancy looking airport. It took (y/n) by surprise- she hadn't even realized they had moved at all!

"I need to get my luggage from the baggage claim. Would you like to come with me?" John asked, snapping (Y/n) out of her thoughts.

"Of course! Lead the way." John nodded and together, they navigated through the airport. Twenty minutes later and the two had grabbed their luggage and exited the stuffy airport.

(Y/n) looked around in awe at the large buildings around her. She didn't care that the sky was cloudy, casting the city into a large shadow.

John seemed to notice her excitement and chuckled, motioning to the scene before them. "Welcome to London, (Y/n)!"

"John!" A new voice called.

"Mrs. Hudson!" John called back. (Y/n) turned to see an older woman with short, dirty-blonde hair rushing towards John.

John closed the distance between them and pulled her into a hug, nearly lifting her off the ground.

"John! Oh, I missed you. Sherlock did too, he was incredibly bored without you, I had to consficate his guns again before he destroyed my wall!" Mrs. Hudson announced, looking over John like a mother would. (Y/n) noticed that while Mrs. Hudson was old, she was surprisingly beautiful.

While she was watching the two interact, Mrs. Hudson looked up and the two made eye contact.

Mrs. Hudson broke into a large grin. "John! You didn't tell me you had a lady friend! Who's this?"

John whirled around. "Uh, no, she's just a friend. I met her just now, on the plane. Mrs. Hudson, (Y/n) Rose. (Y/n), Mrs. Hudson- my landlady."

Mrs. Hudson rushed to (Y/n)'s side, placing a hand on (Y/n)'s cheek. "Oh dearie, your eyes are georgous." (Y/n) blushed.

"Thanks..."

Mrs. Hudson removed her hand and stepped back, taking in (Y/n)'s appearence. "What brings you to London, dearest?"

(Y/n) shrugged. "Needed a change of scenery. I just moved here from America."

Mrs. Hudson's eyes brightened. "America? I've always wanted to go there." Mrs. Hudson grasped (Y/n)'s hands. "Tell me, what's it like?"

(Y/n) smiled. "Well, there's 50 states. I lived in Utah before I came. It's really pretty- where I lived, it was surrounded by mountain. The Rocky mountains. The views of the valley from on top of those mountains was breathtaking! There was a lake and lots of cool things. It was kind of dry, though, Utah is in the Great Basin area so it's in the middle of a desert. The summers were super hot and the winters were pretty cold, but it was home-"

John cleared his throat. "Uh, that's great, (Y/n), really, but I'm pretty knackered. The jetlag's starting to kick in."

Once John mentioned it, (Y/n) felt a wave of exhaustion pass over her. "John's right. And I still have to find a hotel..."

Mrs. Hudson and John both frowned. "You don't have a place to stay?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

(Y/n) let a guilty smile slide onto her face. "No..."

Mrs. Hudson huffed. "Well that's just unexceptable. I own a block of flats on Baker Street, how about you spend the night with us and tomorrow when the jetlag wears off we can talk about you living arrangements. Good?" Before (y/n) had a chance to respond, Mrs. Hudson had clapped her hands and smiled. "Good! Come along you two, the car is this way."

With that, Mrs. Hudson turned, leaving John and (y/n) standing there in shock. (Y/n) turned to John, her mouth agape. "What just happened." She asked.

John shrugged tiredly. "Mrs. Hudson being Mrs. Hudson, I reckon."

(Y/n) nodded dumbly. "Alright."

The two broke out of their stupor and followed Mrs. Hudson. (Y/n) decided she liked her already.

~

Curse my American a*s.

Anywho

Feel free to correct me on anything from spelling to British slang- I greatly appreciate it!

Hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter of 'The One'!