Superwholock one-shots

The intern

A Sherlock One-shot

The paper told all about the murders. There was a new one every week. They were all the same. Victims all had something in common, they were women, pretty women. You, being a woman, are scared. You can't walk down the street alone at night or the day, but you keep on kicking. You go to your college classes day after day. Sometimes you even walk yourself home. A future profiler can't be afraid of a silly murderer, bloody hell, you would have to catch them some day.

"The third murder so far," you hear someone say behind you, obviously reading over your shoulder. You jump and look behind you to see your professor. "So, (y/n), are you interested in interning? If you are, well, have I found a job for you!"

You look up at the old man. His thick glasses were sliding down his face and his red bow-tie was a little loose. His wife and him had gotten into a huge fight as you could tell from the bags under his eyes and the way his wrinkled hand hovers over his phone. "An internship isn't much of a job is it Mr. King, but I'm listening."

He slaps your shoulder. "Thata girl! I knew you'd be interested! They were only looking for the best and you seemed fitting!" He claps his hands and continues on. "They are expecting you tomorrow at 221B Bakerstreet tomorrow at ten! I'll give 'me a call to let them know you accepted." The jolly old man walks off. Before he gets out the café door, his phone rings. "June?" he asks as soon as he flips it open. Then he closes it with a sigh and continues walking. You hope that he could repair his wounded relationship.

Bakerstreet, that sounds familiar. It was something you read in a newspaper long ago. Something that you soon forgot because it didn't catch your attention. It just made you bored. You head home to get ready for tomorrow.

Today is the start of your internship. This was going to be no easy feat. You never did good working for somebody. You didn't like to follow rules. Rules restricted you from your potential. Rules were meant for you to break, yet you had to follow these rules to get a job and have experience. Getting ready is a hassle. You don't know what to wear. Are you going to need to make a good first impression? That was indeed a stupid question. You always need to make a good first impression. Instead of going with you graphic T-shirt and a pair of jeans, you put on a nice button down that's white with nice jeans. You put on your lace up combat boots and the tiniest bit of makeup. You still feel like you're missing something. It suddenly pops into your mind, you need your favorite cardigan. You run downstairs and grab your motorcycle helmet. You run outside and jump on your motorcycle. You breeze through London. Soon, you pull up to the door that said 221B. You slowly knock on the door and wait. You start to get nervous and are about to back down from this whe it starts to open.

"Come on in," a older lady says, "you must be here for the boys. You can follow me." She pats down on her skirt and starts to walk up the stairs. You hesitate before starting to go up. You run your hand over the worn railing as you walk up. "Now, dear, Sherlock is back yet, but his roommate is here." She opens the door and leads you in. "Let me go and fetch him." She leaves you there in a place that you've never been. Not knowing what else to do, you start to take in everything. Books are sprawled all over the desk near the window and there are two chairs. There are visible bullet holes in the wall. Before you could let your mind wonder anymore, you hear soft footsteps behind you.

"Hello," a man with sandy blonde hair says. He has on a white sweater. "You must be the new intern. Sherlock and I are so glad to have you."

"Hi, you must be John, I'm (y/n)." You hold out your hand for him to shake. He takes it and shakes it hard. You pull back prematurely and kind of shake it behind your back.

"Sorry, Sherlock is always telling me that I need to stop being rough," he says sheepishly.

"No, no it's fine." This was getting a tiny bit awkward. You need to think of something to say, but he beats you to it

"Sherlock doesn't know that we have an intern now. He'll be kind of surprised, so don't be shocked or anything." You nod. You totally understand, why would he not know that he would have an intern.

"Now, what do I need to do as an intern? Fetch coffee, get files? If that's it, I can't do it, I want to learn."

"Well, whatever Sherlock needs you to do. He's the expert. I hope you do learn, it'd be a great experience. As for the coffee, if you don't mind." Before you could say another word, you hear fast footsteps coming up the stairs. John must have heard them too, because he turns around to face the open door. In walks a long legged man with dark curly hair and high cheekbones. He had on a purple shirt that was one size too small. "Sherlock, this is..."

"Another client. I thought we didn't have an appointment for today, John." He faces you and seems to be taking in everything.

"We don't. This is our new intern, (y/n)." You stand up and step towards Sherlock.

"(Y/f/n) (y/l/n). I'm guessing that you're the famous Sherlock Holmes, uh?" He stares at you with confusion in his eyes. You hold out your hand, hoping that'll he'll shake it.

"John, can I speak to you out in the hallway?" John steps out of the door and Sherlock closes the door. You stand there with your hand still stuck out. Whispers fill your ears. They are angry, harsh whispers. You let your hand fall to your side and sigh. You know that you've blown your chance to be the intern.

You debate whether to just leave or stay when the door opens. "I'm sorry, Miss (y/n), John here hadn't informed that there'd be an intern," Sherlock says. He shoots a look that could kill. "Please, take a seat." You sit, not wanting to disobey. You really needed this. No matter the rules that you'd have to follow. "Now, (y/n), why are you interning?"

"Well, my professor just asked me if I was up for it and here I am." You shrug your shoulders and lean back in the wooden chair.

He nods his head slowly. "Do you wish to solve crimes and get answers? Are you going to back down from danger?" He is looking into your eyes now.

"I wish to get answers where there are only questions from simple minded people and I will never back down from danger, danger excites me." He smiles a genuine smile that you never expected out of someone like him.

"Then shall we get going?"

"Where to?" He already has his coat on and John is putting his on.

"To catch a murderer! What else would we be doing, Miss (y/n)!" He stalks out while taking quick, long strides with John following behind.

You hesitate. "Bloodly hell," you say and start down at a quick pace. Wondering what adventure your going on.