MIND PALACES (MYCROFT X READER)

COMING BACK HOME

I stood there taking a picture of Big Ben and sipping my coffee.
"Which is it?" asked a voice. Definitely a male.
"Huh?" I turned around to see a thin man,tall with pale skin and curly black hair, very pretty eyes too. Handsome,cant quite pinpoint age. He's a bit of a smoker,wears patches. Doesn't deviate much from his wardrobe choices.
"Iraq or Afghanistan?" The stranger asked.
"Uh,Afghanistan."
"Afghanistan, but you have been to Iraq. For something something secretive, only one person knew. You are left handed, you also have a bit of limp when you walk, indicating you where shot and that is why you've been sent home early. Has dificulty with civilian life. But recently you've come from the United States,enjoyed studying abroad." The stranger deduced.
"Thats quite a gift you've got..Sherlock Holmes, the detective. Right?"
"And your name is?" Sherlock asked.
"Y/n Y/LN."
"That sounds quite familiar, are you in an any way related to Mrs. Hudson?" Holmes questioned.
"Well,no but she's a close family friend. Practically my aunt."
"Tell her I said hello,I'll be seeing you at baker street." He said,and then the detective walked away.
Definitely a sociopath, we might get along well. After all,the best of us are insane. Its time I stopped sight seeing, well revisting and pick up my things.
Last thing I remember,was the detective fellow saying goodbye,I was visiting Big Ben. No,wait its all coming back to me. Ah,the explosion. The only home I ever knew,a former den of hackers and thieves was gone. Good thing I had a place to stay,maybe I'll gain a new friend or two. Don't care too much for people and socializing with- well idiots for lack of a better word. I shall make a stop at Scotland Yard, see if they have a job opening. But I should hurry my leg was beginning to give me hell again. Hailing a cab,
so much better than jumping onto a moving vehicle to hitch a ride or avoid getting shot or blown up. I havent seen aunt in so long, missed her lots.
I arrived at my destination,payed the driver and exited the cab. I knocked on the door of 221B and waited. Almost instantly the door opened, revealing not my aunt but none other than a man I met literally 2 hours,14 minutes and 45 seconds ago. Sherlock Holmes. I had a feeling that he was in a rush,impatience was a strong trait in this man. "Oh hello again,can't talk now. Tea's on,Your aunt is in the kitchen making tea,in my flat. Well, hopefully -if I find a flatmate. Goodbye." And he walked away, with very quick strides I must add. I headed inside and there she was.
Ah,conversation is boring. I do this out of sentiment, really. God I hate sentiment, its such a pain in the arse. I was given my keys, guide lines and such and got ready to rest inside 221C. Something told me I was going to love it here.