Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock (the show or the original ideas by Arthur Connan Doyle) or any of the characters… however it would be absolutely AMAZING if I did! =D

Foreword: Hello people of Earth, Gallifrey and beyond! My fellow Sherlockians! =D This is my first Sherlock fanfic, so please, understand if it sucks XD Also, my OC does not appear till the next chapter, so this is just a bit of a basis to get the story started. This begins between "A Study In Pink" and "The Blind Banker". I hope you like it! Read on my friends! And, as the Tenth Doctor from Doctor Who would say,

Allons-y!

Prologue

A Problem To Be Solved

" Sherlock, we have a bit of a problem." Said John Watson as he walked into the living room of 221b Baker Street. Sherlock Holmes, who had been in the process of updating his website, the Science of Deduction, let out a sigh, looking up at his friend.

" What is it this time?" Sherlock asked in a monotone, returning to staring at the screen of the laptop.

" Yeah, you know the rent we pay? We haven't been quite meeting what we need to." John said as he took off his black jacket, slinging it over his arm. John Watson was an ex-military doctor, having just returned from Afghanistan. He'd moved in with Sherlock and had been pulled into the dangerous but very exciting world of crime and Sherlock's job as the world's only consulting detective. Life wasn't going to be boring.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow as if to say 'how is this my problem?'

" We have to figure out how to make ends meet- even with the money we get from doing cases, we don't have case after case after case waiting for us, and I'm still unemployed, unable to find a job." John plopped into his chair by the fireplace, running a hand through his short hair.

Funny thing was, Sherlock and John seemed to be so spectacularly opposite, that being flat mates actually worked out. Sherlock was a tall man with curly black hair that flopped into his face, his skin pale and matching well with his sharp ice blue/grey eyes. He'd been called a psychopath, which was completely untrue. He was a high functioning sociopath, there is, in fact, a difference. Sherlock kept to the truth, the facts, the scientific reasons, the reasons things happened, and, some could argue, just the general 'who, what, when, where and why.' His mind was able to connect seemingly unimportant things and tell a life story. He was a truly brilliant and amazing man.

John was on the shorter side in height, his short blond hair still growing back from its military style. His blue eyes were always wary, especially when around Sherlock, and his skin was still tanned from his time in the sun in Afghanistan. He was the calmer of the two. He stayed cool and collected most of the time, trying to hold Sherlock down to the reality that was Earth. He'd been impressed by what Sherlock could do, which had been a first for said detective. John had admittedly missed all the action from the war, and found his new life style with Sherlock more fitting than what he had been before, sitting in an overly tidy room, staring at the wall, gripping at a cane that he didn't need.

Sitting there in his chair with Sherlock been unhelpful (which John was beginning to get used to), a thought ran into his head. He sat on the edge of afore mentioned chair and began to think the idea over.

" Sherlock, we have a spare room, don't we?"

" Yes, it's currently being occupied with spare items we aren't sure what to do with." Sherlock responded, finishing a post on the website.

" Well, why don't we clear out the 'spare items' and then rent it out. It is actually a bedroom. That way, we can just split the rent between three people and I'm sure it'll work out well." John suggested, and when said suggestion met Sherlock's ears he turned in his chair to stare at his friend, an unreadable look on his face.

" You do realize how difficult it may be to find another flat mate? One that will agree with me?" He asked. John rolled his eyes. Right then…

" It's worth a shot. I'll go ask Mrs. Hudson if we could rent it out." John said as he stood up, ignoring Sherlock's statement. He headed towards the stairs, prepared to go find Mrs. Hudson, the landlady.

" John." Sherlock called after him. " John! Did you hear what I said?"

" Shut up, Sherlock!"

John knew Mrs. Hudson would probably be glad to take an opportunity to rid the extra room of all the… well… junk that was pilled up in it, the majority of which was Sherlock's. He was mentally preparing himself for probably a long line of interviews for flat mates, including many headaches coming from Sherlock complaining about them. Well… there had to be at least one person in London that Sherlock would be able to agree with. And, smiling as he saw Mrs. Hudson, John thought;

God, lets hope that's true…

Afterword: There you have it! The prologue! Hope you enjoyed it! Also, I hope you give this story a chance, I hope it'll get better! I also hope I did okay with capturing the characters alright, I've been doubting myself on that bit…

Okay! So! I'd love a few reviews, reviews make my day better! Hope you'll stick around to read the next chapter, as well as meet my OC, who is named Anabell Marie Stuart. Spoilers! XD I'm spouting Doctor Who references, sorry! XD So, please review (nice reviews or constructive ones, no hate or anger or flame filled ones please!) Thanks!
~Mary