A/N: Not sure how long this will end up being. I'm guessing maybe about as long as "The Adventure of the Swinging Snitch" or shorter. This takes up the thread of my longer narrative from where I left it with the "First Christmas" story and the subsequent chapters.

This story will contain some violence, frank discussions of sexuality, some very mild slash (if you wear slash goggles), but nothing explicit. I'm rating this "M" mostly for the subjects addressed rather than any actual events or descriptions.

This story will also address issues of religious fundamentalism in both Islam and Christianity. It is not intended as a criticism of either religion, rather it is a criticism of all fundamentalism, regardless of its source.

Now that I'm getting the hang of this site and how it works a bit better, I promise to respond to all reviews that are not anonymous. Please, help me become a better writer! :-)

Disclaimer: I don't own. No profits, etc...

As with most of my other stories, it is written from John's POV...

The Enemy of My Enemy - Chapter 1

It was a morning not long after Sarah and I had broken up. I was coming downstairs on my way to get my morning tea before leaving for work. I had been awakened earlier than usual by what sounded like construction noise from downstairs. I of course assumed it must be Sherlock perpetrating further atrocities on our flat. Expensive atrocities, from the sound of it.

However, as I descended the stairs, it became apparent that the noise was coming from further away than our flat. I wondered if maybe Mrs. Hudson was having some sort of work done on her place. It sounded like several power tools were going at the same time, along with a lot of banging and crashing.

I was nearly to our flat when, much to my surprise, Mycroft emerged from our sitting room, apparently on his way out. He saw me and stopped, with a look in his eyes that indicated he was genuinely pleased to see me. But with Mycroft Holmes who can say for certain?

"John, so nice to see you again!" He shook my hand warmly.

"Thanks Mycroft, good to see you too. How are you?"

"Very well, thanks. Just stopping by to say hello to Sherlock."

By this time Sherlock was at the doorway of the sitting room, evidently following Mycroft. Sherlock had his usual look of disgust that he wore around his brother.

Mycroft continued, "Sherlock, what is Mrs. Hudson having done? I might pop downstairs and see the workmen. There's a few jobs I could have done around my place. It's so hard to find reliable craftsmen these days."

Sherlock sneered, "Please Mycroft, go back to your office and don't pester people who actually perform real work. Don't you have some sort of international incident to provoke?"

Mycroft made no verbal response but sent his brother a wry smile. After a brief pause he said, "Well, I'll be off. Goodbye Sherlock, goodbye John." He sauntered down the stairs with his folded umbrella over one shoulder.

I followed Sherlock into the sitting room. Sherlock went immediately into the kitchen where he had his microscope set up. He began fiddling with it immediately.

"What did Mycroft want?" I asked as I followed him into the kitchen. I still needed my morning tea.

"Oh nothing of importance. He said he was going to be away and we won't be seeing him for awhile."

"Is he going abroad?"

"Don't know. Didn't ask. Don't care."

"So what's going on downstairs? What is Mrs. Hudson having done to her place?"

"Actually, the work is being done in 221c. It seems Mrs. Hudson has finally found a tenant."

"Really? Wow! When did this happen?"

"A few days ago, apparently. Mrs. Hudson is over the moon about it."

"I guess so. Hasn't it been vacant for years?"

"Mmm-hmmm," Sherlock nodded, "moldy, musty, low ceilings as I'm sure you remember. It's no wonder she's happy someone has finally taken it."

I listened to the cacophony of sound coming from the basement. "Sounds like there's a lot of work being done down there."

Sherlock nodded again as he adjusted the microscope some more. "Yes, it's part of the agreement according to Mrs. Hudson. The tenant is paying for the remodeling in consideration of getting a lower rent and a twenty-year lease."

"Twenty years!" I exclaimed, "who signs a twenty-year lease?"

Sherlock looked up at me in surprise. "Lots of people, John."

"It sounds mad to me. Why would the tenant or Mrs. Hudson agree to such a thing?"

Sherlock straightened up and regarded me with a thoughtful expression. "It makes perfect sense to me, and it's a good deal for both parties. The place was vacant for years, it was costing Mrs. Hudson money and becoming less livable all the time. Now she has a guaranteed income from it for twenty years. In return, the tenant gets a comfortable home at a below market rate in a prime location in central London after the initial outlay of cash to make it comfortable." He paused and then said, "I'd sign a twenty-year lease with you and Mrs. Hudson today if you'd agree."

I goggled at him.

"Oh for heaven's sake John! We've lived together almost a year now, we have it sorted, don't we? I certainly have no plans to ever leave, and if you did I'm sure you could easily sub-let. Is there a better location for the money? I seriously doubt it. What's the problem?"

The tea kettle was singing so I busied myself preparing two mugs.

"I don't know Sherlock. It's just...twenty years! By the end of that time I'll be an old man."

Sherlock snorted. "And if you aren'tliving here in twenty years' time how old will you be?"

"Ha ha," I retorted, "you know what I mean. It's like making a commitment for the rest of, well, the prime of my life."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Again, John, and please pay attention this time: Location, money, company - can you do better? And, if it turned out that you could do better, you could always sub-let. Think about it."

"Sherlock, are you serious about this? Or are you just having me on?"

Sherlock went back to looking through the microscope. "It's just something to think about, that's all," he muttered.

I placed his mug of tea next to him on the table.

"So who is this tenant, then? What if we don't get on?" I asked.

"Go talk to Mrs. Hudson," he said irritably, "I'm busy."

"Right. Well, I'm off to work. See you tonight."

Sherlock didn't respond.

I finished getting ready and headed downstairs. On a whim I went on down to 221c just to see what was going on. I found Mrs. Hudson standing in the doorway, watching the work going on in her basement flat.

"Oh hello dear!" Mrs. Hudson beamed at me.

"Hi, I hear you've let the place?"

"Yes! Isn't it wonderful? A very nice young lady, just twenty-three and out of college."

"Really? Sherlock tells me she's signed a twenty-year lease?"

"Yes, I can't believe it. It would have been madness to turn her down. If she doesn't keep her agreement, the flat will still be fixed up and much more marketable than it was. I can hardly believe my good luck!"

"If she's just out of college, how can she afford this?"

"Oh, her parents are dead, poor thing, and they left her an inheritance. She said it made sense to her to invest some of the money into a good place to live. She probably feels the need for some security in her life. I was alone in the world at that age too...except I made the mistake of getting married. I thought it would bring me security, but how wrong I was!" Mrs. Hudson shook her head over the memories of her disastrous marriage. "This is a much more sensible decision."

"Er, I guess you're right Mrs. Hudson. Well, I'm off to work, see you in the evening."

"Goodbye, dear." Mrs. Hudson gave me a quick peck on the cheek.

As I made my way to work I couldn't help speculating about this mysterious young heiress. Just out of college and committing to living in a basement flat until she was in her forties? By the time her lease ended she would be older than I am right now. What if she wanted to get married and have children? That place would be cramped for even a married couple. Children would be impossible.

Maybe she was a party girl who wanted to be close to the action of London's night life and just wanted a comfortable flop. But such a creature didn't seem the type to sign a long-term lease. I couldn't seem to form a picture in my head that accounted for all the pieces of the puzzle.

I consoled myself with the realization that once she moved in I would have plenty of time to get to know her, as we were apparently going to be close neighbors for a long time.

That was another thing to muse over. What was Sherlock on about this morning? Was he really wanting the two of us to commit to a long-term lease like the new tenant? It seemed like such a big step, but I had to acknowledge that his arguments in favor of it made sense. I finally decided that the decision should wait until after the new neighbor moved in. After all, if she turned out to be a nightmare, I didn't want to have already agreed to live in close proximity to her for the next twenty years.

To be continued...