The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Christine Maryland *DISCONTINUED*

First Meeting

*BANG*

The sound of a gunshot filled the entire building of 221b Baker Street.

The person behind the shooting was a man.

The high-functioning sociopath.

The world's greatest, and possibly only, consulting detective.

Sherlock Holmes.

Why the gun though? Didn't he have a case to solve or something else to do that wouldn't cost him or someone else their life, or even better, someone who didn't bore him?

The answer to all those questions was no. Two weeks has past since his last "exciting" case. John Watson, the only man that actually cared, was no longer around since he had to take care of his wife, Mary, and their child, whom Sherlock keeps forgetting is either a boy or a girl.

Even though Sherlock didn't want to admit it, he was a little lonely. He wanted a flatmate that didn't irritate him and had the mind set like him.

John Watson wasn't as intellegent, but Sherlock was never bored with him. He liked having his best friend around, having someone to talk outloud to.

Now, he had no one. The only thing he had close to a form of communication was his skull.

Who would even want me as a flatmate?  he thought to himself, just like the day he asked that to one of the lab men, Mike, when he first met John Watson.

Sherlock then snapped out of his train of thought and put the gun back into the drawer. All of the sudden, there was a knock at the door.

It was probably Mrs. Hudson complaining about him using the gun to shoot the wall.

Oh well.

The wall had it coming, anyways, Sherlock thought to himself, causing him to smirk.

"The door is unlocked. Come in," he said.

When the door opened, he saw Mrs. Hudson, which was no surprise to him, but someone else was with him.

It was Inspector Lestrade.

Half of Sherlock was hopeful he had a better case for him this time. However, whenever he hoped for that, it would all come crashing down with another boring case.

God save me, Sherlock thought to himself.

"Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson said, "Greg here.."

"Greg?" Sherlock questioned.

Lestrade just rolled his eyes. This was nothing new to him. Sherlock always forgets Lestrade's real first name. Either that, or he did it on purpose just to irritate Lestrade.

"My name is Greg, Sherlock, for the last time," he groaned.

"Not too important for me," Sherlock replied, "Anyways, what boring case do you have for me this time? I told you before to give me an interesting case, not ones where people like you can solve."

"Actually, Sherlock, you might find this one interesting," Lestrade said, taking a seat in the chair across from Sherlock.

"You're version of interesting and my version of interesting do not...comply," Sherlock said.

"Ah. But this one does," Lestrade says as he throws the newspaper at Sherlock.

He didn't even need to open the paper, for it was there on the front page in large letters.

MURDER AT UNIVERSITY OF LONDON

Murder...

That word stuck out