Zenith

First Encounter

Chapter One - First Encounter

I stand over the table using one of the many pipettes for one of my experiments that I am working on as of late when I hear a knock. I look up to find Mike, the clown he is walks in with a fellow of short height and military persona about him. I look back at the petri dish to find little bubbles starting to form, it worked, interesting. That's when I hear the clanking of a cane that doesn't really need to be used. Very interesting.

"Well, bit different from my day." I hear the man that came in with Mike say, so he is smart, good. Has to be in the medical field, most likely Doctor?

"You've no idea!" Mike blubbers about as he moves into the laboratory more allowing the man with no name walk in more with the stupid cane that doesn't need to be there, sad.

"Mike, can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine." I mutter sitting down on the stole in hopes that Mike is being as lazy as ever and refuse to get it out of his coat, then maybe I can see more of this mystery man.

"And what's wrong with the landline?" Mike asks in a incredibly stupid tone, how could he have passed university other than elementary school.

"I prefer to text." I tell him looking through the microscope to see the live bacteria swim about the dish.

"Sorry. It's in my coat." He shrugs it off sitting his lazy and rather large bum on the chair. But perfect for me to see my future flat mate.

I hear the man fish in his coat for his phone. He was outside a lot by the tan line on his arms. His stance screams military, so I wasn't wrong about that. PTSD or that's what his Psychologist thinks he has. He definitely misses the blood rush of war, not a single shake of his hand as he pulls out the phone.

"Er, here. Use mine." The man says holding it out to me. I stand up pushing my long dark hair out of my face as I make my way to him.

"Oh. Thank you." I smile dragging my eyes up and down his body, his hands are almost to still, I look over at Mike as he coughs.

"It's an old friend of mine, John Watson." Mike finally says the name of the man that stands in the laboratory. I turn away from him beginning to text as words fall out of my mouth.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?" I ask with my monotone voice that so many people would say to be flirting but in reality the only time a human flirts is when it want to mate and continue to produce more humans in this small world.

I look over at John who is frowning completely confused on how a women maybe two years younger could figure out that this man could have been in the Royal Army. He looks over at Mike who just shrugs and smiles at me. That sorry baboon still thinks he can have a chance with me. Mason would be the first in line if I were ever to be with any co-worker.

"Sorry?" John asks clearly offended and surprised. Why is everyone like that around me?

"Which was it – Afghanistan or Iraq?" I ask looking him in the eye, I raise my own to make my eyes look wider bringing my thick lips into a small smile.

John stands there in shock as he shifts his weight onto the other foot clearly not in need of the cane. Another theory correct.

"Afghanistan. Sorry, how did you know ...?" John manages to get out just as Mason comes into the room in a different button up shirt. He hands me the coffee with an awkward smile.

"Ah,Mason, coffee. Thank you. I was in terrible need of caffeine." I smile sipping the black liquid looking back to the phone. I quickly delete the text I sent to my dreadful brother telling him that I had found a flat mate, and he had to worry no longer of my drug use. "What happened to the shirt?" I whisper looking at Mason.

"It wasn't working for me." He says looking down at his white button up he usually wears.

"Really? I thought it was a big improvement. You're too pale now." I sigh waving my hands into his chest. I turn back to the station in which I was working on as I take another sip at of the coffee making my face twist at its bitter taste.

"... Okay." He mutters as he makes his way back out of the door.

"How do you feel about the violin?" I ask John as I write down on a piece of paper on a theory about the bacteria.

"I'm sorry, what?" John asked obviously confused about my question which isn't that confusing, perhaps I was wrong about him, maybe he is stupid. No his eyes say otherwise.

"I play the violin when I'm thinking. Sometimes I don't talk for days on end." I smile looking at him as he looks at me in surprised facial expression but nevertheless I continue. "Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other." I laugh under my breathe as I type on the computer that resides behind me.

"Oh, you ... you told him about me?" I hear him ask Mike as I smile to myself, oh is this going to be fun.

"Not a word." Mike mutters back to him.

"Then who said anything about flatmates?" John comes back to me in a confused voice. I look at him through my now narrow eyes as I begin to speak.

"I did. Told Mike this morning that I must be a difficult women to find a flatmate for. Now here he is just after lunch with an old friend, clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan. Wasn't that difficult a leap." I laugh pulling on my black trench coat getting ready to leave.

"How did you know about Afghanistan?" John asks as I pull on my beanie over my wild curly hair, I then pick up my phone again seeing if my dear brother had messaged me.

"Got my eye on a nice little place in central London. Together we ought to be able to afford it." I smile as my brother wishes John luck, with a swift motion I delete the text message and walk toward John looking him in the eye. Just about the same height as I am. Short for a man, as I am tall for a women. "We'll meet there tomorrow evening; seven o'clock. Sorry – gotta dash. I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary." I smile about to walk out of the door when John calls after me.

"Is that it?" He asks me laughing in disbelief.

"Is that what?" I ask him looking from behind the door.

"We've only just met and we're gonna go and look at a flat?" He asks me blinking his eyes a tad too fast, clearly nervous.

"Problem?" I ask him with a smile as John looks over at Mike who is smiling at me.

"We don't know a thing about each other; I don't know where we're meeting; I don't even know your name." John manages to get out as I step back inside the laboratory.

"I know you're an Army doctor and you've been invalided home from Afghanistan. I know you've got a brother who's worried about you but you won't go to him for help because you don't approve of him – possibly because he's an alcoholic; more likely because he recently walked out on his wife. And I know that your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic – quite correctly, I'm afraid." I smile looking at his leg as he does the same. He shuffles awkwardly looking back up at me. "That's enough to be going on with, don't you think?" I smugly smile at him leaving the room then reentering leaning my body on the door frame. "The name's Sherlock Holmes and the address is two two one B Baker Street." I wink at him then looks at Mike who's mouth is slightly open. "Afternoon."

I walk down the long dark hall with a large smile plastered on my face, oh how this is going to be fun.