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"Doctor Watson to ER." The voice comes over the intercom and I rush to the emergency room to see what scenario they have for me now. It's a little boy who needs a lego removed from his nose, and I have it within 5 minutes, telling his parents to watch over him and telling him not to shove lego pieces where they're not supposed to be.

Leaning back in my chair, a headache is beginning to form and I desperately need a coffee. Checking my schedule, and seeing I have no appointments for the next couple hours, I decide to travel down the street to a near coffee shop. The door jingles as I enter the warm building from the frigid fall air. Looking around, I immediately recognize the head of curly hair huddled over a computer in the corner. I notice he doesn't have a cup in front of him, so I have an idea. Partly to repay him, but mostly so I can talk to him.

Ordering two coffee's I gingerly approach him and sit across from him, setting the coffee in front of him.

"Hey." I say quietly and he looks up, but doesn't answer. "Um, I'm sorry for bumping into this morning, I wasn't looking where I was going and,"

"Hm." He says in a low voice, and I stop talking.

"Sorry?" I say, focusing on his angelic eyes.

"I need a flatmate." He says in a quiet, low voice.

"Ok." I say, looking around, not sure why he told me that.

"I play the violin when I'm thinking, sometimes I don't talk for days on end. Would that bother you?" He looks up at me with an expectant face. "Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other." He gives a sweet, sassy, almost sarcastic smile and goes back to his computer.

"I'm not sure if you're asking me to share a flat with you or...?"

He looks up to look at me again. "I found a nice little place in central London. Together we ought to be able to afford it. We'll meet there tomorrow evening, 7:00."

I sit dumbfounded as he closes the laptop and begins to walk away, leaving the coffee on the table.

"That's it? I bump into you, bring you coffee and now you want to look at a flat together?"

He looks confused. "Problem?"

"We don't know a thing about each other. I don't know where we're meeting, I don't even know your name!" I stand up from the table, confused and slightly angry.

He then looks at me, slightly amused. "You'd be surprised." He smirks then walks backwards further away from me. "The name's Sherlock Holmes, and the address is 221B Baker Street. Afternoon!" He holds up a hand to the person making the coffee and they wave back, as I stand in the middle of the shop pinching myself.

What the hell is going on? 

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