Nerdy Birdie Stories: 221B (chapter 1)
I’m actually nervous about this one. This is not a Sherlock fan fiction. I thought of putting up a while back ago but I was so nervous what others would think of it. I decided to write the story in a different way, from the prospective of Irene Adler. I changed the Sherlock characters up a bit, except maybe Mycroft. I don’t know why I just couldn’t change him who would want to?
Sherlock for instance is a man in his twenties, instead of him be portrayed as a man with dark hair; he has sandy blonde hair. And well for Irene is not in tune with her feminist side as she has always seem to be in other versions of Sherlock Holmes. As for Watson, well you just have to read to find out.
Summary of 221 B:
American Irene Adler flies to England, after earning a job offer. Her job is not anyone expects it to be; taking care of a young man who was a former drug addict named Sherlock Holmes.
Irene has a past with Sherlock that they both hide, but others barely notice. Will her connection with Sherlock bring her back to memories of the past or will the man that Sherlock now is keep them apart?
Again this is not a Sherlock Fan Fiction, read at your own risk. Please let me know what you think of the first chapter.
"So why did my brother think that you were qualified for such a job?"
To be honest, I don't know why I'm taking this job in the first place. I was told I would be watching or the correct term should be babysitting; I never thought it would be a twenty-five year old guy.
"Why do you think, your brother thinks that I'm qualified?" I relaxed in the chair by leaning back and crossing my legs.
I watched him as he examined me up and down. His fingers were locked together and he held them underneath his nose. Then he began to speak; "You're American, no doubt from your accent and the way you speak. You're not from the east coast; you're from the west coast, the state of California. You've been to London before that's why you're familiar with certain words. You are writer, not just any writer you despise journalism, so it has to be fiction. You're head is filled with ideas but you don't always write them down on paper. In fact you're writing in your head right now aren't you? The reason why you wear a jumper two sizes too big is because you still have body issues from when you lost a substantial amount of weight. So I believe the reason that my brothers thought you were qualified is because he promised to pay for university as well. Well then, since I have no say in the matter, welcome to two-twenty-one B Baker street miss Adler." He then rose from his chair and walked across the room. "If you would excuse me, I have so work to do." He sat down a dinning table chair and buried his face into microscope.
"I'm going to take a shower." I said as I sat up from the chair I had been sitting in.
"Fine. Do whatever you want. Your boxes are in your bedroom down the hall." He didn't look up when I walked past him, but I could feel his on me as I walk down the hall.
I don't know why I took this job. I didn't apply for anything, this just came to me. Literally. I was in the middle of class one day, when I was called out by a man in his mid-thirties in a suit. I had never seen him before. He walked me to a computer lab that was typically empty unless a class had an appointment.
"Can I ask why I'm in this room?"
The man in the suit walked around the room with grace. He dusted one of the monitors with his finger; a look of disgust flooded his face. “Miss Adler you have been on our radar for quite some time. We have selected you for a special job. It includes a scholarship to a university in London. All expenses paid."
"I didn't think apply for anything"
“Believe me, miss Adler you'll want this job."
"May I ask you what the job is?"
He picked a folder that was sitting on one of the tables and hand it to me. "My little brother is in need of a Companion, more like someone who can watch him." I opened the folder to find pictures of a skinny young man with sandy blonde hair. "About a year ago, he had a flatmate named Dr. John Watson, who went missing in action; we assumed he died in Afghanistan. Eight months ago, Sherlock whom this job is for; came severally addicted to drugs. In fact he almost died of an overdose at one point. I sent him to rehab after the incident. So far he has been able to control himself; I don't how long it will last. The good thing is he is back to solving cases."
"Why me?" I looked through the pictures again.
"Someone made a request for you." He came close to me and whispered in my ear. "If you don't do this Miss Adler, I believe Sherlock may not survive the end of the year."
I picked up one of the pictures of Sherlock, and sighed. "I'll do it."
I walked out of the bathroom, with nothing but two towels on. One wrapped around my body, the other around my soaking wet dripping hair. I found Sherlock in the lounge with another man playing Cluedo on the kitchen table. The man looked at me.
"Lestrade!" Sherlock shouted. The man snapped out of his trance on me. "What is your deduction?" Sherlock didn't look away from the board game.
"Ah...Miss Scarlet in the kitchen with a rope."
"You call yourself a detective..."
Interested in the game, I walked into the room not realizing I was still in my towel. Sherlock then turned his head away from the game. "Interesting tattoo." he said to me. I had a molecule make-up of dopamine on my left shoulder blade. I never really exposed it so much before.
I took a look closer at the board; it wasn't a simple store bought version of the game. It was more complicated version Sherlock created, making it harder for him to solve.
The other man across form Sherlock began to introduce himself to me. "Detective Sergeant Gerald Lestrade."
"Shut up Lestrade. Now what is you deduction?" I could see the clueless look on Lestrade's face. And from the sound of Sherlock, he sounded lost as well.
"Professor Plum in the conservatory with a revolver." I said to them and slowly made my way out of the room. I could hear the envelope opening and a card being pulled out.
"She's right." Sherlock slapped the card on the table. I stood in the hallway by the door.
"Who is she?" Lestrade asked. "The American?"
"My equal." I heard a smile on Sherlock's face. "My brother hired her to keep an eye on me. You're still there aren't you?"
I scudded across to my room, slamming the door around me. With a sigh, I went through one of the many boxes that stored some of my clothing. I threw on the first complete outfit I could find. I sat on my bed and began to brush through my wet hair, when I saw a scarlet box on my dresser.
I snatched the box, and slowly began to open it. A silver locket sat inside, I couldn't figure out how to open it. I heard Lestrade speaking in the hallway.
"Let me know if you're on your way." his footsteps walked across the house. I opened the door to catch a glimpse of Lestrade, but he didn't see me. I walked into the lounge to find Sherlock putting on his coat.
"Where are you running off to?" I asked him, as he passed me.
"To a crime scene is that okay with you?"
“Did you want join me? No, of course you don't." He walked out the lounge and head to the staircase.
"Yes I would, actually." He stopped a few steps down the steps and walked back up. I grabbed my coat from my bedroom and looked into his green eyes as I walked down the staircase, he followed behind me.