Copper Beeches (A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction)

A/N: Based on the Arthur Conan Doyle story, The Copper Beeches. Set in the middle of Sherlock Series Two Episode One, A Scandal in Belgravia, between when Sherlock meets The Woman and he receives her phone.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. If I did...there would be more than three episodes to a season, and I wouldn't make people wait so long. Just saying.

I had originally wrote this as a one shot, but then since it came to be about 15,000 words long, I decided that would be a bit long.

Yay for Series 3!

Also, has not been Brit-picked or betaed. All mistakes are my own and I apologize ahead of time for any mistakes found.

~*~

There was no warning that it would happen. One late afternoon, John Watson returned from working his hours at the clinic to find a few random sized suitcases leaning against a wall. For a moment, he wondered if another case had turned up while he was gone, but then shook his head. He had no doubt his flatmate would have made himself a nuisance if that was what had happened.

"Mrs. Hudson?" John called out, sidestepping a large duffel bag.

A moment later, the friendly landlady was hurrying from the back. "Oh, good! You're back!" she exclaimed. "Sherlock went off, oh, hours ago. I was hoping you'd come along. A young lady has taken the other flat, and I know she'd appreciate your help in getting this down."

"The other flat?" John echoed. "Downstairs?"

"I don't know how she knew about it, but she took it on the spot," Mrs. Hudson informed him. She lowered her voice. "Her name is Violet Hunter. She's American, but I'm not going to hold that against her."

With that little piece of information, Mrs. Hudson hurried back to her kitchen. John was left standing with the boxes, uncertain of what he was supposed to do. Should he pick up a bag and take it to the flat, or just leave it for the new resident of the building to take care of?

Many months had passed since Moriarty had first used the smaller flat to hold the first clue in the game he'd set in motion for Sherlock. That had been the first and only time he'd set foot in the place. It was, as Mrs. Hudson had said, damp. And he also had no interest in bringing up anything connected to that case.

Before he could make up his mind, a young woman came bouncing into the hallway. "Oh, hi!" she said with a friendly smile. As Mrs. Hudson had warned, she was American, from the Midwest, if her accent was anything to go by. But John knew he was no expert.

"Hello," John said, holding out his hand. "Welcome to Baker Street. I,live upstairs. Looks like we'll be neighbors."

With her right hand, she shook his hand, and with her other hand, she brushed her long, chestnut hair out of her face. "Thanks. I'm really happy to finally be here. My name is Violet. Violet Hunter."

"Watson. John Watson," John responded. He found himself trying to count the many freckles that covered her nose and cheeks. "So, do you need some help here? Mrs. Hudson said you might-."

The woman's face brightened. "Oh, would you please?" she asked. She grabbed one of the bags, and hefted it up. "I want to get all of this out of Mrs. Hudson's way as soon as possible, and there's only so much I can carry at a time. I know its not that much, but I'll feel better."

"Lead the way," John said, bending down to lift two of the other bags up. He followed Violet down the steps to the flat. There was hardly anything in the small basement flat. "Any place I should put this?"