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A Case Worth Taking

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It was a moment in time. 

No one thought anything of it, No one except you two. You were itching for some ancient inspiration, not finding success here. He was in the middle of a case on the brink of another revelation.  You both happened to be in the entrance National Antiquities Museum when you bumped into each other. Two passing strangers. For a moment neither of you did anything but all at once, time stopped. You stared intently into the stranger’s eyes. You recognized Him. The media’s current favorite detective, that being the great Sherlock Holmes. He returned your deep stare with a calculating glance of his own.

But that was it.

That was the moment.


There was a tug in your chest when you turned to leave. You found inspiration after all, though perhaps you would be using more color than you expected for your next painting. You later displayed a piece in a local gallery titled “A glance of Genius” featuring bright and gentle blues, greens and greys. It was bought days later by an anonymous customer. 


As Sherlock turned away, something in his mind clicked regarding his case. He stopped a second to turn back to give you another look, perhaps catch on to why something suddenly made sense. But when the detective turned to find you, there wasn’t a trace of you left. He later solved that case. Watson, Deemed “The Blind Banker in his flatmate John Watson’s blog retelling.


But you didn’t meet each other again, nor did either of you plan to. 



**TRAGEDY STRIKES , Beloved Lady of the Arts Found dead with her final work in hand.**


John Watson read in the headline of his paper one quiet afternoon. He and the infamous Sherlock Holmes had just wrapped up another case. It wasn’t of the caliber of the Blind banker, or his first case, A Study in pink, but all the same, it was a long and tiring case. Despite this, the detective was restless, itching for another test of wits that only a good mystery or some stashed drug could scratch. The aforementioned Holmes were presently composing on his violin. Short bursts of note, and then long pauses filled 221b Baker St. That was of course until one of those silent spells was filled with mutterings coming from downstairs. Following this, Mrs. Hudson prattling up the stairs to poke her head in the door. 

Her sweet older voice rang out, “Sorry to intrude, but do you have a visitor. She says she has a case for you boys.” She opened the door to step in and let enter another figure. You were clad in [vivid/monochrome] sunset colors, with sunglasses and a blue summer cap hiding your face. Nothing Big or outgoing in the accessories, but the elegance of your attire shone like the sunset it represented. For someone as nervous as you were, you held a powerful air about you.

John turned to take a look at you, and he was taken aback by the sight of you. He stood, Striding over with a smile he shook your hand. 

“Pleasure to finally meet you, Doctor Watson. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” He remarked sweetly while he eyed you over. All the while, Sherlock was still composing over this new sound. For someone so eager for a new case, he didn’t seem to jump too fast when one walked into his flat. Mrs. Hudson interjected. “D’you remember that wonderful woman author I  told you I met at a signing event last month?” 

“The one with the tv show or the one who wrote stories for paintings?”

“Both.” You and the previously silent detective said in unison, causing you to raise your shaded gaze to him. He stared back at you. Removing your glasses and hat, you smiled. His Cold, calculating gaze fell over you. So did John’s look of utter disbelief. You were the woman he had just read about and seen in the paper — the late Lady of the Arts.

‘I don’t think I’ve properly introduced myself here. I’m {y/f/n} {Y/l/n}. And I believe I have a case for you.”

It seemed you finally held the Consulting detective’s Attention.