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The Science of Coffee

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"Come on John, this man makes the best coffee in England." Mike Stamford exclaimed over his shoulder as he pushed his way through the bustling crowd.

"Im sure we could get a cup somewhere else." John limped after the wake Mike was leaving, muttering apologies as he went.

"Not like this John. Believe me this bloke makes the best coffee. Does quite a show with it too." Mike stopped in front of a small shop.

'The Science of Coffee' a sign proclaimed with a background of the London skyline shining in silver. Big glass windows showed modern glass tables and chairs with various science posters hanging on black and white patterned wall paper. A single yellow smiley face decorated one wall next to the counter. And on the smooth granite counter several steaming drinks were waiting for their owners to pick them up.

"John come on." Mike held the door open and motioned for John to enter. John shook out of his staring and entered. The smell of coffee beans surrounded him and he took a deep breath of the scent of expresso.

"Hello Mike." The man behind the counter tipped his head. His grey hair was slightly mussed and his suit jacket was rolled up to his forearms. "I'll go grab sherlock, he's been in a mood. Deducing someone new may lesson his wrath a bit."

He ducked into a back room and John turned to Mike. "Deduce?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't worry John it's just part of him taking your order." Mike smiled and turned back to the counter where a different man was emerging from the back room. His inky curls spread orderly around his head and his silver eyes seeked John out and stared before flicking around all the corners of the cafe. The purple shirt he was wearing was also rolled up to the forearms with coffee staining his wrists.

"Are you boring or not?" His deep drawl echoed throughout the shop and several customers looked up, interested.

"What do you mean?" John looked right at the barista while ignoring all the stares focused on him.

"Will you order or allow me to deduce you?" The arrogant smirk came again.

"Deduce me." John stood still and opened himself for judgment. The baristas gaze flicked over him again before he began rattling off facts.

"You are former military, army most likely. You were active duty until shot, strangely enough you limp despite the injury being in your shoulder. You are also a doctor but crave adrenaline that your clinic patients don't provide." He paused leaving John amazed and the other patrons watching on eagerly. "A otherwise black coffee with two shots of expresso."

The man turned around to prepare the drink, pulling out a cup and programing the machine. "How did you do that?" John had to ask.

"The science of deduction."

Sherlock pulled the cup out of the machine and pumped the coffee in before adding a double expresso shot. "Now tell me your name." He withheld the steaming drink.

"John." The doctor more asked than told.

"Perfect and now would you be looking for a flat mate?"

"What?" John furrowed his eyebrows.

"I said are you searching for a flat mate? A just returned soldier must be looking for a place."

"Yes but why would you take me as a flat mate?"

"you're interesting." Sherlock's eyes gleamed. "Now will you be my flat mate?"

"Yes." John surprised himself at the fast choice.

"Perfect." Sherlock handed over the coffee and swept back into the other room.

"That was something." John turned to Mike.

"Yes" Mike grinned.

"You knew all along didn't you?" John glanced between the darkness of the back room and Mike.

"I knew you two would be great for each other." Mike shrugged, "hey Lesterade how much do we owe you?" He raised his voice.

"None I don't charge for flat mates." Sherlocks baritone rung out.

"Alright then." John smiled and took a sip of his coffee. "That's bloody brilliant."