221B

Chapter 1 - The Blind Banker

"What the devil is going on?" I cry out, standing in the doorway of the living room.

With a tight grip on the heavily robed attacker's wrists, Sherlock falls back onto the kitchen table. The man follows him down, and I see, held horizontally in both of the attacker's hands, is a sword. The attacker tries to press the blade into Sherlock's throat. Sherlock swivels his head to the side to look at me.

"A little help would be greatly appreciated, thank you." He turns back to the attacker, pushes the man's right wrist upwards, and the tip of the sword starts to dig into the table on Sherlock's right.

Slightly amused by this, (even though I know I shouldn't be) I lean against the wall and fold my arms.

Sherlock raises his left leg, knees the man several times, and then forces himself up again. The tip of the sword leaves a long slash across the top of the table.

Mrs. Hudson will be wondering about that, no doubt, and will definitely not be very happy about it.

Sherlock, now on his feet again, has moved the fight back into the living room. He ducks as the attacker swings his sword at him. Sherlock straightens.

"A little help?"

"Ugh," I heave a sigh in exasperation, and casually cross over to them, planning to end up behind the attacker.

The attacker swings again, Sherlock ducks, straightens, and points directly over the attacker's shoulder.

"Look!" He cries out.

The man starts to turn in that direction, and the timing is perfect, because I reach him then. Just as he's already half-turned I punch him in the jaw and Sherlock swings a rather powerful uppercut to the attacker's chin. The attacker falls into Sherlock's armchair, unconscious.

Sherlock straightens and immediately checks his reflection in the mirror, straightening his jacket, cuffs, and dusting himself off.

"You look as beautiful as ever." I say with no enthusiasm and plenty of sarcasm.

He turns to me. "Thank you."

I nod.

"No, thank you for punching him at that exact moment. But yes, thank you as well for the compliment."

"I was making fun of you. How is that a compliment?"

"It just was." He waves his hand dismissively.

"Alright then. Would you care to explain?"

"Explain what?" He stares at me blankly.

"You're serious, right?" I raise my eyebrows.

"Absolutely."

"Why is there a man in a bunch of robes here trying to kill you with a sword?!" I gesture to the unconscious man in the chair.

Sherlock looks at him as if realizing someone's there for the first time. "Oh! That! Oh, nothing."

I heave a sigh. "Okay...so what are we going to do with him? We can't leave him here to give Mrs. Hudson a heart attack."

He looks at the man with disdain, as if indignant that he's messed his suit up. I roll my eyes.

"I'll be right back." I turn and leave the room.

"Wha...where...?" I trail off.

"What?" Sherlock looks up from his book. He's casually sitting in the armchair, as if nothing ever happened.