//I liked this so idea so much that I'm publishing this as a separate book!//
(Name) walked down the streets of London, holding her phone to her ear.
"Yes Mom, I found an apartment already. No Mom, I don't want to come back to America. I love you Mom." (Name) hung up as she walked into her apartment, 221C, Baker Street. Unlocking her door, (Name) heard a gunshot from the upstairs and groaned mentally hearing her landlady rush towards her.
"Hello Dear! Do you want to come with me to meet the men upstairs?" Mrs. Hudson smiled and (Name) nodded walking up the stairs with her.
"Sherlock! You can't just shoot the apartment anymore!" A short blonde man in a sweater yelled.
A tall man with striking blue eyes scoffed and looked over at (Name) and Mrs. Hudson.
"Set the tea on the table Mrs. Hudson."
She placed the tea down and (Name) clutched the strap of her messenger bag as the smaller man stuck his hand out.
"John Watson." John smiled, shaking her hand lightly.
"(Full Name), I-"
The other man cut off her words. "You live downstairs. You haven't lived here long, you just moved from America. Your clutching your messenger back indicating your nervous." He paused and walked around her.
"Your clothes are nice, but you hate them. Perhaps your mother bought them for you and couldn't bear to tell her you hate them. You couldn't tell her because you hate talking to her, no you hate talking in general. You worried too much and the slight tanline on your neck inplys a recent haircut." He smirked as (Name)'s jaw dropped.
"Wow, Okay."
"And that's Sherlock Holmes. Can't you wait untill she finishes talking to deduce her?"
"No. Tea?" Sherlock looked at (Name) and sat down in his chair.
"Uh.. Sure?" She sat down on the couch as Mrs. Hudson poured the tea.
"How do you like your tea (Name)?"
"Two sugars and cream please."
John sat next to her and fiddled with his sweater.
"Stop overthinking John." Sherlock's baritone voice resonated from his chest. Looking up from his book he studied (Name)'s features.
She laughed at something John said and looked over at Sherlock. Her gaze met Sherlock's and he looked away quickly.
"You're pretty, (Name). No wonder John has taken an interest." His long fingers flicked the page as he raised an eyebrow.
"Sherlock!" John turned pink and started apologizing to (Name).
"No no John it's fine." She stood up and frowned. "I-I need to unpack, and rearrange, But next time you can come for tea downstairs."
"(Name)." Sherlock called out as she walked towards the door. "Your shoes untied."
"Thank you, Mr. Holmes." (Name) shut the door and started down the stairs.
"She's not interested, John." Sherlock took a sip of his tea and looked up at him.
"Shut up Sherlock. (Name)'s awfully pretty isn't she?" John pulled out his computer and started typing.
"Oh yes very, true American beauty." Sherlock cleared his throat. "We can bother her after we stop hearing her run around, she'll be done soon."
John stared at his friend and shook his head. "I can't believe someone moved downstairs."
(Name) dumped the clothes hangers on her bed and started hanging up her clothes. She started her music on her phone and began singing loudly.
"Summer has come and passed, The innocence can never last. Wake me up when September ends."
Sherlock paused looking up from his book. "Did you hear something?"
John stopped typing. "No?"
"Hmp. Strange." Sherlock muttered.
"Like my father's come to pass, seven years has gone so fast. Wake me up when September ends."
Sherlock's head snapped back up. "I definitely hear something." He stood, listening.
"Here comes the rain again falling from the stars, drenched in my pain again becoming who we are."
Sherlock looked down at the floor. "She's doing it."
"Let it go, Sherlock." John sighed from an armchair. "Don't pick a fight."
"Not a fight, a discussion." Sherlock muttered as he walked out the door. He continued down to her door and knocked loudly.
(Name) opened it and smiled at Sherlock. "Sherlock was it? I'm sti-"
"Stop singing so loudly." He looked into her flat and frowned. "Are you even capable of moving the couch?"
(Name)'s face flushed pink. "Uh..." She looked behind her at the couch in the middle of the floor. "No.."
"Would you.. Like help?" Sherlock cleared his throat and ran a hand through his dark curls.
"Oh yes please!" (Name) leaned out from the door frame and led him in. "Excuse the mess, I'm only partly unpacked." She pushed a few boxes from behind the couch and looked at Sherlock.
"Are you not going to help?" (Name) was currently trying to push the couch against the wall and Sherlock chuckled.
"Of course." They pushed the couch against the wall and Sherlock looked up his blue eyes meeting her (e/c) ones.
"I should go." Sherlock looked around the room. "Unless you need more help."
(Name) nodded. "If you would be so kind."
Hours later (Name) flopped in her blue suede couch and laughed.
"That was really tiring. And hungering. Wanna go get some food?" She looked up at him and grinned.
Sherlock's eyes widened. "I..." His phone started to buzz. "I have to take this."
He turned away from her and answered his phone. "Sherlock Holmes. Oh, Hello John. I understand. I'll be fine, (Name) and I are going to get dinner. Have... Fun with Sasha- I don't care what her name is." Sherlock hung up and spun around on his heel. "Well Miss (LastName) I believe we need to get dinner."
(Name) stood up and grabbed her coat grinning. "Great thinking, Pooh."
Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Pooh? Like, the waste product or-"
"The bear, silly! Your just like Pooh Bear, cause your heads filled with stuffing."
Sherlock nodded and grabbed her wrist pulling her out of the apartment. "Odd Thomas, Dean Koontz. Great reference. Terrible series."
(Name) pulled her wrist away and slid her hoodie over herself. "I like the books actually."
