Welcome to 221B Baker St.

The Ripped Tomato, Part I

"So," Louise started cautiously, "can I crash with you guys for awhile, at least until I figure something else out?" Sherlock stopped to consider it for a moment. She was more intelligent than he gave her credit for, and John couldn't always come with him. He said he needed his job at the clinic, dull. She was also a lot less conspicuous to talk to than to walk around London carrying his skull. Before he could answer Louise, John finally came home from work. They could tell how exhausted the doctor was from the way he trudged up the stairs and opened the door and hung up his coat on the rack next to it with a heavy sigh. John jumped a little when he noticed Louise was still in their flat, sitting on the couch like everything was perfectly normal.

"Oh, hello," John said cautiously, although he was trying to sound casual. "Still here then?" Louise smiled apologetically at him. She felt a little bad for upsetting him, even though it wasn't really her fault.

"Yeah, it looks like it was a one way trip, unfortunately," she replied, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you like that. I'm Louise LeBlanc." Louise stood and offered her hand to John. She remembered that she hadn't properly introduced herself to John yet, and her mother had always taught her to mind her manners. John looked hesitantly at her hand for a moment before brushing off his worries. He took her hand and smiled kindly as he said:

"John Watson, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," Louise answered, relieved that John seemed to have accepted her for the moment. "I don't mean to impose, but I was just asking Sherlock if he knew of a place I could stay. I'd prefer it if I could stay here, since I'm not sure they'll accept money from parallel universes anywhere else, but I'll understand if you say no," she explained to him. After all, it was his flat too. John paused when he heard the "parallel universe" comment, but he took it in stride. Louise guessed he must be used to strange things happening around him. John felt sorry for the girl, being alone in a strange world with nowhere to go (if that was even remotely true, as unlikely as it seemed; though he noticed his show-off of a roommate who could never resist correcting people remained oddly silent). He looked at Sherlock, who seemed to be watching their exchange with a faint interest.

"She's staying, Sherlock," John told him. Louise raised her eyebrows in surprise. She could tell John was probably the more compassionate of the two, but this was more than she had hoped for. Now how would Sherlock react?

"Fine," Sherlock said as he lay down on the couch and started putting what looked like nicotine patches on his arm. John was glad Sherlock had agreed, but he was a little surprised Sherlock had given in so easily.

"It's really alright?" John asked. He remembered earlier how he had worried that Sherlock might try to dissect the poor girl, and started interrogating him about it. Sherlock had the decency to at least look appalled at the idea. The two men began to have a heated discussion that Louise was sure would turn into an argument. She decided to intervene.

"Are you alright, John?" she asked. "You look tired. Why don't you sit down, and I'll get you something to drink," she offered. John looked at her gratefully.

"Ah, thank you, Louise. It was a rather long day. I think I'll take you up on that. Some tea would be lovely right now," he told her as he relaxed onto a chair next to the couch. He could get used to this. Louise asked Sherlock if he wanted any, but he just ignored her. She nodded and made her way to the kitchen and began making the tea. She managed to find a mug and the nearly empty box of tea bags while avoiding some very suspicious-looking experiments that were spread around the small area.

"Do you want anything in it?" she asked John.

"Just some milk, thanks," John replied. Louise opened the refrigerator door to get the milk, turned pale, and immediately slammed it shut again. She repeated this several times before John decided to ask what she thought she was up to.