Study of a Pink Lady pt 1

"So Mr. Watson, tell me about him.," The elderly gray haired witch set down a cup of tea in front of him "Or as I hear it is Dr. Watson now I presume."

Her emerald robes flowed behind her as she rounded her desk to take a seat. It had been nearly 20 years since she had laid eyes on her former student. Though now recently he had made quite a name for himself by chronicling the life of his companion and the shroud of mystery that seemed to follow him wherever he went.

"It is and he is…well he's extraordinary, bloody mad sometimes, but extraordinary. I'm always on my toes and we get all sorts to the flat. He only takes cases that defy all logic." He half chuckled to himself. His life over the past five years had changed so much he barely recognized it.

"So it would seem. Were you ever concerned that he would figure out that you were…well.." She gestured a hand to him.

"Figure out I was a wizard and not a solider or a doctor for that matter? For a while. Took him about two years. He still wonders how the tea makes itself every morning." He scoffed.

"Gracious. And here I thought you wanted a quiet life after your time in the Auror's."

"Me too." John picked up cup of tea and took a drink. "But I wouldn't trade one moment. There have been times where it has been raving bonkers but I think that's what has made our time together special."

Professor McGonagall couldn't help but smile.

"You know I always enjoyed a good story. Especially full of mystery. Tell me of all your adventures."

5 years ago.

John sat outside the Auror Office with the weight of the world on his shoulders. His gaze was far off as he held his cane beside him. The past few months had taken a toll on him and his latest mission had come with a price. He had been on the field on an international excursion, stricken by a curse that all but ruined his health. Returning to London he currently faced the decision of his future and what it meant to his career.

His cane that was now a contents reminder of why he couldn't return to the field. What was an Auror in hot pursuit of a dark witch or wizard if they were gimping along with a cane?

He sighed rubbing a hand over his face. Deep down he knew he was finished.

"John?" a voice called his name.

John looked up into the eyes of his employer that was hidden behind large circular glasses.

"Sorry Harry. Didn't hear you come out." He stood with the help of his cane and limped into the office of Harry Potter and took a seat. Harry came around and sat at his desk shuffling through his paper work. John wasn't sure if he was looking for something in particular or if he was just biding his time and beating around the bush so he wouldn't have to tell him he was no longer needed. He could read it in his face with the anticipation and the nervousness.

"So John, how have you been?"

Treading on small talk and easy questions. God how he hated it. It was all he heard since he got out of St. Mungo's.

"Considering the fact I haven't been able to sleep in three months its been great." His tone had a tinge of sarcasm along with it.

"I know it was hard for you John. I know that here lately you haven't been yourself. Perhaps you just some time off, relax, go on holiday.." Harry suggested.

"Is this your subtle way of telling me I'm out of a job? Don't get me wrong desk work is still as important but its…its just not the same. I need to do something. Even if it means quitting altogether and maybe going to 's as a healer. I doubt my leg will ever get better or ever have a decent night's sleep again, but I can't be confined to a desk. It will drive me mad."

Harry sighed adjusting his glasses, running a hand through his dark hair. He did not want to loose a valuable employee. John had an extensive decorated career as an Auror and had traveled not just around England but international missions to the far east as well. However, he knew John had his own personal demons just like he had his.

"Come along John. I think there is something you can do. If you are interested that is. It's social work, but it shouldn't be too difficult. All you have to do is observe and report to us." Harry explained as he arose from his desk and made way for the door, expecting John to follow.

With slight difficulty John got up and followed Harry, his cane clicking all the way down the hall of the Ministry of Magic, both catching a ride on the elevator to the lower level.

"I appreciate the help. I really do, but social work? Not exactly my office is it?" John asked.

"I know John, but just give this a try. Its the Obiliviator's Headquarters. They investigate muggles who may or may not be getting to close to the magical world when they shouldn't be there. Some field agents can spend years in one area. Observing, reporting, all the while correcting the error the Ministry sees as a potential breach. Obliviate and move on to the next case."

John nodded. Nightmares of years past had been haunting him of late. Anything from his time as a school boy to recent events had increasing been plaguing his mind. Perhaps it was time for a change of scenery. He knew his time as an Auror was over. His last case had been a terrible one and he had gotten injured in the field. They had got their person, but it came at his sacrifice.

The elevator came to a clang and the doors retracted apart. Stepping off into a overcrowded basement of people, desks, chairs, papers flying from one to another it looked to be a complete mad house. John's eyebrows rose at the onslaught of noise of catastrophe. Harry looked to him apologetically.

"I may have forgotten to mention that it's a bit of…"Harry's voice trailed off.

"Chaos?"John answered.

"Yea."

Slinking through the hoard, John and Harry went through the maze till they got back to the back of the room. There sat behind a desk an older gentleman with dark robes and a lopsided pointed hat with bits of copper and white hair peeping out underneath.

"Mr. Weasley?" Harry put on a smile.

"Oh Harry! What are you doing in my neck of the woods?" Arthur's face brightened up on seeing his son-in-law.

"I have John Watson here. He is taking a break from the Auror's for awhile. Needs a change."

Mr. Weasley looked to John somewhat confused, scratching his head till it donned on him.

"Wait…are you the chap that…oh you are!" he arose from his chair and took John's hand and shook it vigorously, "Bless you Mr. Watson! That was a horrible…I mean to say is you did the Ministry a great service! Bless you!"

John's smile was forced.

"It's quite alright. Just doing my job."

"And a fine job you have done." He clapped John on the shoulder. He grunted in pain at the older man's gesture but shrugged it off.

"I'll leave you two to it, if you don't mind me going back upstairs." Harry looked to the two of them.

"Not at all Harry. And swing by the Burrow tonight. Perhaps we can all have a family dinner…Ginny will be there." He added in with slight hopefulness.

"Sounds brilliant." Harry nodded and excused himself, once again fighting the crowd of people back to the elevator.

"Just you and me now Mr. Watson. Come along and I'll show you down to the artifact room and we will get you geared up. I've been doing all kinds of odds an ends jobs since they have practically made me director over this whole floor. My job is to look after muggle affairs." Mr. Weasley

John's brows furrowed again. Surely this department didn't need special equipment just to do simple social work and watch muggles. John had come from a muggle family himself and it was to his parents shock, and John's, that he had received a letter from Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardy when he was a child. But, nevertheless, his parents were proud and supported him going to an unconventional school to learn about this new identity of his life and every summer and winter he would come home to tell them all that he had learned. Until the last year of school. Shaking his head of the morbid thoughts he focused back at the task on hand.

"So which case will I start with first?"

"Straight to the point, my kind of man. You'll fit just fine here. The muggle I have in mind for you is a new one that has just been reported by a wizard who works in a hospital in London. He said there is a muggle who does detective work and has asked him if he could use the laboratory for his research and experiments. At first he thought nothing of it. Just thought he was working for the Scotland Yard. That is until he learned what this muggle really can do…and what he was investigating."

"Which was?"

"Oh you'll have to experience it for yourself. Something quite extraordinary." Mr. Weasley said in excitement.

"And this detective's investigation?" John questioned.

"Let's just say that the Ministry of Magic and the detective were investigating the same case simultaneously and neither of them knew it. Thing is, is that he solved the case in less than a day. We've been trying to solve it for years. He just…knows things."

Now John was really confused and curious as well.

"Wait, then how did he do it? How did he solve a case of ours in less than a day? Without any help? Let alone any help from us?"

Mr. Weasley and John stopped in their walk and Mr. Weasley turned to him.

"They say he did it with "deductions"."

At that he opened a door and both entered a room cluttered with different assortments of muggle items and gadgetry from top to bottom. There was hardly any room to step or form a clear a path. Some gadgets were from older decades like a record player or even a pinball machine and some more modern like an iPhone.

"We have some new modified muggle things that we have been testing out on the field and so far they have proved to be quite a success. Ah here." He picked up a laptop computer and showed it, with careful handling as though it was made of glass, to John.

"They call this a laptop. Not sure why because it doesn't necessarily have to be in your lap to work. You press the button here and….," The laptop brightened to life and dinged "It comes on. They say muggles use these all the time for work or school. You can do just about any type of job on here from…calculating sums to making a letter, there are games you can play or even get on the "web". We're still not completely sure if the "web" is a real world or not.

Muggles apparently learn everything from the "web" as it tends to house most of their news source. It still needs more research into it. But you will be using this. We have a laptop set up here where we can see any documentation you type out though try to be discreet. They say muggles can hack into these things. So you may want to pretend you are writing a book or something of the sort." He handed the device over to him.

John shook his head and he tried to hide the smile that was wanting to grace his face due to Mr. Weasley's explanation. It would not be the first time a wizard was totally fascinated by modern technology. When he was in school he often saw the pure and half blood wizards stare at him in amazement at the wonders of his pens. Something so simple.

"Next," Mr. Weasley spun around and searched through a box that was sitting on a desk "I have a mobile phone. These things are all the rage in the muggle world! You can talk to people from far away, or anymore, they are just like the laptop where you can access the web. Fascinating things!" he turned back to John to show him.

"Now with this we will also have you contact us the moment you find out anything that is critical. These mobile phones are much faster than owls. This one just so happens to be Harry's old phone from Ginny when he did some minor field work for us a couple months back. Few scratches here and there, but still in very good condition. These will mainly be your working tools. Both of these have a little lock on the side where we have modified them to be muggle proof."

John nodded.

"So where will I be going and where do I report to?"

"Ah, well you won't be going far. The muggle has been doing most of his work here in London. Mike Stamford, the wizard who reported it, will be meeting you at the park near St. Bartholomew's Hospital. Also we will need a new identity for you and I have just the thing. As for reporting to, you can call either myself or Harry." Mr. Weasley handed John a manila file folder and John flipped it open, glancing at the papers.

"A…a doctor? I'm going to play the part of doctor?" he asked skeptically.

"I know you done some healing training at St. Mungo's and got your Master Healer's License in Magical Medicine. You practically are a doctor in their world."

"And an ex-soldier?" he raised an eye brow up to him.

Mr. Weasley's voice dropped lower and more solemn."It's best to stick as close to the truth as possible. Your time in the Auror's will not go unnoticed. Like I said you have done us a great service."

John stared back at the papers. The more he stared at them the more he wasn't sure what he should do. Perhaps Mr. Weasley was right. It's just a cover story, but it was also the truth. He had felt like a soldier in the Auror's and he had enjoyed…no craved every bit of work available. The action and getting right into the mess of things, he wanted it. However, it looked like a faraway dream. He felt like since he had been injured on the field he was somewhat scared to return yet it kept calling his name like some long lost lover. All he wanted was some peace to calm his nerves. Maybe this change would help.

"Why don't you sleep on it. There's a flat set up a couple blocks away from the hospital. One you can stay at. Why don't you take this with you and call on me tomorrow or some time this week."

John looked up at him and nodded his head.

"Thank you."

"I know what your feeling John. I know it is nowhere near to what you experienced, but I was once attacked and left for dead by Voldemort's minions as well. It is an uneasy feeling. An uncertain feeling. Like the evening has fallen and you are not sure if the sun will ever rise again. But it does John, it does."

With that Mr. Weasley left and John noticed how he too had a limp. Perhaps Mr. Weasley was right. Perhaps it was possible to be normal again.

—

John sat on the bed in the tiny, bare, plain walled flat. The more he looked at the walls the more it seemed like a padded prison. Even the noise on the street was beginning to bite at his nerves to the point he couldn't tolerate it. It was too much. Was this what his life came boiling down to? Shaking his head trying to rid himself of depressing thoughts, he flipped open the file folder again that Arthur had given him.

"A bloody army doctor. Well, I can't blame them. Sticking to the truth as much as possible is smart in case of kidnapping or death. Hopefully I don't need a full back story."

Flipping more pages he came to the picture of a young man, seemingly late 20's maybe early 30's, with a mop of dark curly hair and a long coat on, walking down a street.

"Ah, this must be him. Sher...lock? Who names their kid Sherlock? Not much information on him either. I'm going to have to start from scratch. His only violation has been since he's moved to London about 6 months ago with that one case Mr. Weasley mentioned earlier. Only now they want an investigation." He scoffed to himself and plopped the folder onto the nightstand. He laid back in bed and with a simple wave of his hand the lamp on the nightstand turned itself out. He still wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to do this job. It was muggle watching after all. How exciting could you get? Then again it wouldn't be a hard job. He still thought about ditching it the more he thought about it and going to work as a healer, but there was something….still something that kept nagging, no itching at the back of his mind.

"Lumos." The lamp turned back on and John suddenly sat back up, flipping open the folder again to the young detective's page. "What exactly was you poking around in? How did you even find our case?" He skimmed his finger down through the page as it rested on his destination.

"No… you have got to be shitting me." He breathed to himself.

The case in said violation; a kelpie had started attacking a village drainage pipe into a lake. There were reports from muggles that there was supposedly a "monster" in the lake, as they heard groans and roars from within and a glowing "dragon" and fish at night. The glowing was only a recent occurrence in the past couple of years. Naturally the detective was hired and he took the case, not because he was interested in said monster, he was more interested in the drainage pipe. In the end he found that a power plant run by terrorist cell was illegally draining nuclear waste into the lake and the plot was shut down immediately. Now the kelpie was being relocated, the lake cleaned, and minds Obliviated of any "monster". Ultimately solving the Ministry's mystery of what was going on with the lake, the kelpie and the breach. So didn't he actually…help?

"A terrorist cell of all things. No wonder the Ministry didn't know. They barely correlate with Muggle politics they wouldn't know. They haven't been on good terms for years. And he solved it in a day. And what are "deductions"?" His mind reeled.

John picked up the mobile phone given to him and he scrolled through the contact list and pressed a number, waiting as it rang on the other end.

The line audibly clicked and was met with a brief silence.

"…HELLO!" Came Mr. Weasley's voice as he shouted into the line as John jerked the phone back from his face.

"Um yea, Mr. Weasley I can hear you just fine. You don't have to shout." John rubbed his ear.

"Oh, John! I'm so sorry! Still trying to get use to these things.… I'M NOT SHOUTING AT ANYONE MOLLY! OF COURSE I KNOW THERE IS NO ONE OUT HERE! IT'S…IT'S oh bloody hell I'M JUST DOING…SOMETHING I'LL BE IN, IN A MINUTE! I'm sorry John." John held the phone away again till it was safe to put back to his ear.

"Quite alright."

"Now what can I do for you?"

"I'll try the job Mr. Weasley. Just this one case with the detective and I'll see how it goes."

"I was waiting for this call. Ha! He said this call would come! I'll let Mike know and we can start you out first thing in the morning." His voice almost sounded giddy.

"Sounds good. Where shall I meet him?"

"There is a park near the hospital. Why don't you guys meet there. Say twelve?"

"Fine with me."

"Good. Get some rest now. You have a big day ahead of you"

—

"Muggle watching. Who would have thought I would be muggle watching."

A quick smile appeared and disappeared as fast as it came on John's face as his cane clinked down the pavement. He shook his head at the thoughts he had, had over the past couple of hours. He barely glanced at the people passing by as he blended in so easily to them. For all his time at school and his time as an Auror he always had to hide from the world like he was some sort of strange creature being a muggle. John was always caught up in either side, the magical world or the other. Sometimes it was hard trying to keep up the appearance of a full blooded or even half-blooded wizard when he wasn't one. Though that was how he survived in school. He knew if he didn't want to get bullied or teased he would have to pretend to be one of them and they never really knew his true identity save one. This was one of the main reasons The Muggle Relations Office preferred employees who were muggle born in their line of work. They didn't have to force their character, they could think like them unlike those who weren't, they could just be them. John could be himself. For once he could just walk through life as though he was a muggle.

"Hopefully this will be easy. Just watch, Obliviate, and redirect him. Simple enough. At least I hope."

"John? John Watson?"

The call of his name made him look around until he saw a burly fellow in a brown suit and tie, newspaper in hand trying to catch up to him. Though not quite the athletic jock of a Quidditch player like John remembered him, he knew the voice of his old friend Mike. Oddly enough still donned his old house colors on his tie of red and yellow.

"Mike. Mike Stamford. We were at Mungo's together." He gestured to himself.

"Yes. Oh yes, Mike, sorry, hello." John shook his hand.

"I know I got fat." The man teased.

"No, no." John tried to defend.

"Come on I got you some coffee. You have a big day ahead of you."

"I've had that feeling all day."

"I heard you were abroad somewhere getting shot at. At least that's what The Daily Prophet said, what happened?"

Seemed like word traveled fast, however it always did in the Daily Prophet. No doubt half of England had heard of his unfortunate latest excursion.

"I got shot."

The man's rounded face nodded in recognition, but was unsure whether to press on with his questions any further. He didn't want upset or bring back bad memories to the Auror. He waved him to a nearby bench and handed John a hot cup of coffee.

"Are you at Bart's, then?" John changed the subject hoping to shoo away the elephant in the room and get back on a more neutral topic.
"Gave up Mungo's for this. Easier on the muggle folk on my wife's side. Teaching now. Bright young things, like we used to be. God, I hate them!" Mike admitted.

They both laughed.
"What about you? Just staying in town 'til you get yourself sorted?"
"No," John answered " I switch departments for a change. I'm with the Obiliviator Headquarters just temporarily, giving it a try. I'm being assigned to watch someone. Some bloke using a laboratory at hospital. They think he's up to trouble." John stopped, taking a sip of his coffee. Mike awkwardly looked away and drank his coffee.

Then it came on again. The sudden little shake of tremor that John had tried to keep concealed under his mask. It always started to rear its' ugly head when he became stressed or nervous. He switched his cup from his left to his right hand, hoping Mike didn't notice.
"Couldn't Harry help?" Mike asked.

"He did. And this was for the best." John defended once more.
"Well don't worry about finding accommodations here for your work. You are in luck."

"How so?"

"Well the only way you are going to survive in London is to get a flatmate."
"Come on – who'd want me for a flatmate?"
Mike chuckled softly to himself as though he knew the answer to a secret only he knew.
"What?" John asked confused.
"Well, you're the second person to say that to me today."
"Who was the first?"

Mike just grinned.

"The man you are going to meet."

—-

"Come on Mike. Tell me about him?" John asked as he followed Mike down to the hallway of the hospital.

"Oh no! That's not fair. Everyone who meets him needs to be initiated. It truly is a gift. For a muggle." Mike fawned over the subject in question.

"So he's done it to you then? This "deduction" thing? What is it?" John was beginning to get leery abut how this muggle had such an effect on people.

"All I have to say John is you will just have to see for yourself." He stopped at a door labeled 'LABORATORY'. "Just act casual. Your an old friend of mine visiting me. I'm just showing you around the hospital."

"But I am an old friend of yours that you are showing around the hospital." John quipped in.

Mike gave him a look and motioned his head towards the door, then it dawned on him. It was their cover story. Small and basic. John nodded and Mike knocked and opened the door. There in the back of the lab was a tall man in a dark suit, pipping a petri dish only giving the briefest of glances to the intruding visitors.
"Well, bit different from our day." John looked around the laboratory room in interest, his cane clicked loudly with each step.
"You've no idea!" Mike chuckled at their own inside joke.
The tall man took a seat at the table and then decided to make his presence known.

"Mike, can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine." His deep voice jutted in.
"And what's wrong with the landline?" Mike asked.
"I prefer to text."
Mike patted himself down but turned up empty handed "Sorry. It's in my coat."

At this moment John fished out his phone that was given him by Arthur. He was going to conduct an experiment just to see how good this detective truly was. Could it be possible for him to crack a magically modified phone or would he be stumped? He wanted to know exactly what he was dealing with and plan accordingly. With a touch of a button he switched on the muggle safety and handed his phone to him with baited breath.
" Er, here. Use mine."
"Oh." the man said in surprise as he quickly glanced at Mike. "Thank you."
He stood and in a brief stride took the phone from John, flipping out the keyboard , typing away.
"He's an old friend of mine, John Watson."Mike found this opportunity to introduce John and in return John caught Mike's glare at him. He could tell that Mike thought he was out of his mind for letting a muggle use a magical modified device, let alone a detective that was under suspicion of near breaking their secret. Though he couldn't help it. He liked to live a little dangerously.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?" Was man's first question, making John frown as he noticed Mike's mouth turn up in a smirk

"Oh this must be it. My initiation has started." He thought to himself, now that Mike's smile was ever apparent, probably laughing at his own joke only he seemed to know. Now John really was curious of what made this man so…different.
"Sorry?"
"Which was it – Afghanistan or Iraq?" The man repeated, still typing away. The man briefly raised his eyes to John's. His cold blue eyes meeting his for that split second before flitting back to the phone made him feel like he got struck by lightening and it rather shocked him before he realized the detective's question.

"Wait. How does he know I was in the middle east?" John hesitated, looking across to Mike confused, but his rounded friend could only smile smugly.
"Afghanistan. Sorry, how did you know?"
The man ignored John's question and looked up as a young dark haired woman wearing a lab coat came into the room with the aroma of coffee coming from the mug in her hands. For a moment it seemed the spell was oddly broken.
"Ah, Molly, coffee. Thank you."
The man shut down John's phone and handed it back while Molly brought the mug over to him. Taking the hot beverage he couldn't help but do a double take at the awkward woman now standing there. This would be John's first time observing this strange man. What was it that this man saw that no one else did?
"What happened to the lipstick?" His dark brows furrowed in confusion as he waited on her explanation. Even John glanced at her, noticing a small smudge of leftover pink lipstick on the corner of her mouth. Must've went unnoticed by her, perhaps in a hurry to get the coffee to impress him.

"Ah, impress him, she must like him. And he is a tall dark haired striking fellow. What lady wouldn't like that? And he was obviously happy that he got the coffee and even noticed the small detail about her lipstick. So he must be interested as well." John concluded his answer to himself.
However, her hesitating voice spoke volumes more. In the other direction.

"It wasn't working for me."
"Really?" His voice came out surprised "I thought it was a big improvement. Your mouth's too.. small now."

"And there went any chance of a date you ass." John watched him as he didn't even so much as look at the poor soul's defeated face as he went back to his station to the other side of the lab.
"... Okay." Molly said meekly and turned and went out the door.

The man didn't miss a beat as he went on to his next question for John.
"How do you feel about the violin?"

He didn't realize that the man was referring to him once more, actually he still couldn't believe the audacity of his behavior towards the poor girl that this man was capable of making a decent conversation.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"I play the violin when I'm thinking." He announced as he typed on the keyboard of his laptop, "Sometimes I don't talk for days on end." He stopped suddenly as though a thought struck him. "Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other." He put on a smile that John couldn't exactly tell was the true smile of this man or one of a fiendish devil. It wasn't till again John realized what the detective had said that made him see the inner question of what he was asking.
"Oh, you ... you told him about me?" He asked Mike.
"Not a word."
Confused, John looked back towards the man who now appeared to be wrapping things up with his laptop and closing it down.

"Then who said anything about flatmates?"
The man picked up his dark blue greatcoat swiftly putting it on in one swing around him.

"I did. Told Mike this morning that I must be a difficult man 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." He explained as though all of it was common knowledge.
"How did you know about Afghanistan?" John asked even though he had only just gotten back from there not 3 months ago. It irked him that he knew. So far he hadn't seen any evidence that this man was a threat to the magical world. Other than maybe he was a little bit of a prick.
The man once again ignored his question and wrapped his scarf around his neck, picking up his mobile and checking it.
"Got my eye on a nice little place in central London. Together we ought to be able to afford it." He carried on as he made his way towards John and to the door.
"We'll meet there tomorrow evening; seven o'clock. Sorry – gotta dash. I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary."
"Is that it?" John interjected, not satisfied with his answer. He wasn't going to let him just hop out the door and not answer how he thought John was just going to be his flatmate and move in and for God's sake how in the hell did he know about the middle east?!
John's question made the man turn back around, closing the door strolling over to him as if he was suddenly challenged.
"Is that what?" His voice somehow came out deeper.
"We've only just met and we're gonna go and look at a flat?" John asked skeptically.
"Problem?"
John smiled in disbelief that this guy obviously didn't see what the problem was. John looked at Mike for some sort of clue or hint to how to deal with him, but once again all he could do was grin.
"We don't know a thing about each other; I don't know where we're meeting; I don't even know your name." He started again, trying to spell it out for him to make him see.
All the man could do was look closely at him, scrutinizing, almost as if he was reading him for a moment before he began his speech.
"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."
John's eyes flitted down at his leg and cane for a second and shuffled his feet awkwardly at the blunt comments.
"That's enough to be going on with, don't you think?" He replied smugly, returning to the door opening it, but leaning back to give him one last look.
"The name's Sherlock Holmes and the address is two two one B Baker Street." With a click of his cheek and wink of his eye, he turned to Mike. "Afternoon."
Mike raised a hand in farewell as Sherlock disappeared out the door leaving a stunned John in his wake. All John could do was turn to Mike in disbelief.
"Yeah. He's always like that. And congratulations on not beating the blazes out of him."

John closed his mouth that he didn't realize was agape and could feel the heat in his cheeks. He certainly underestimated what they meant when the Ministry said he just "knew things". Like a window blown open in a storm now he saw why he was a threat and needed dealt with immediately. It was as if he had read his whole life story from one glance.
—

Returning to his flat John sat down on his bed. He couldn't get the man…Sherlock, off his mind. How did he come to all those conclusions about him, especially his undercover identity, with so much as a mere glance? He was a muggle right? He couldn't read minds? Surely not. He didn't sense any magical force on him. Curiosity got the better of him and he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his phone and inspected it.

"Wasn't able to crack it." He noted as the muggle lock was still on. He flipped to the messages section just to see who he messaged and what he had wrote.

If brother has green ladder
arrest brother.
SH

Puzzled, John stared at the message for a long moment, then looked across to the table where his laptop is laying. He pushed himself to his feet and walked over to the table, opening the laptop and pulling up the internet.

'"Let's see if we can find out exactly who you are." he said to himself eager this time to play the role of the detective.
John was surprised to find a blog, oddly enough on the said "deductions". Clicking on it, it brought up Sherlock's inner most writings, scribbles and thoughts in the most dry manner one could imagine. Based on the count meter, very, very few people had read his blog. Or they had read it and quickly clicked away from the utter nonsense.

"This is absolutely ridiculous. Either he is mad and needs to go to the funny farm or its actually true. Jesus really? 240 types of tobacco ash? Did…did he smoke them all or what? Identifying markers on certain people and careers…London mud…my God this is crazy."

Though however crazy it was John wanted to know. How did he get his knowledge of his time in the middle east, his fake story of an army doctor, he didn't even have a brother so who was he thinking was his brother or even his therapist? Just how? He wanted answers!

Reaching for his phone again he called up Arthur.

"Hello?" Came the older man's voice on the line.

"Hey Arthur I'm going to take this case. I really am. Something, I don't know, something is just not right about this guy. He's not normal. But I've gotten offer to move in with him as a flatmate and I'm going to take it. To keep a closer eye on him."

"You sure about that? Not sure what the Ministry will think of that situation."

"I can always Obliviate him and move on right?

"Suppose so. Just be careful into what you are getting into."

"I'll keep it mind. I am meeting him at 7pm tomorrow at 221B Baker St. I'll fill you in more from there."

"Good luck John. Make sure to always stay by him. I'm sure you won't regret it."