CHAPTER THREE
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i. this could be nice !

— WAKING UP IN A WARM AND COMFORTABLE BED WAS WEIRD TO DANNY. After living in a hospital for so long where the mattresses were hard and lumpy and just flat out weird, it didn't feel right to him. Call him crazy, but he almost missed the mattress lumps. He'd grown so used to the feeling.

Yet, he woke up feeling weirdly well rested despite all of this, and began his day.

Getting dressed in a dark grey sweater and jeans, brushing his teeth in his en suite bathroom and running a hand through his messy, fluffy hair was routine enough.

Eugene Clive's house was expected to be some sort of marvel, being as his family money kept him well, well off. He liked shiny things and didn't bother to hide it.

But when Daniel hopped down the large, dramatic stairs, and found himself in the kitchen- he quickly realized Eugene lived like a ninja turtle.

The house itself was excellent- beautiful, even. With its high ceilings, wide windows, neutral modern wall paper. Every piece of furniture and artifact in the rooms looked like they'd come straight out of a museum or modernized Buckingham palace.

It was English with the interior design of an American, to put it simply.

But Eugene Clive's kitchen was a different story.

Opening the fridge, looking for something to drink, Danny came face to face with an old pizza box and a half drunken bottle of blueberry ribena.

"Hey there old sport." Eugene greeted oddly as he stepped into the room, fleeing immediately to his instant beverage keurig- popping a cup into the machine and grabbing a mug from one of the overhead cupboards.

"What do you even eat?" Danny asked, looking through the fridge, to no avail.

Eugene hummed and opened another cupboard, bringing out a package of Oreos and pulling one out to offer to Danny.

Danny took it, with a small grimace on his face.

Ignoring the look, Eugene stuck an Oreo in his mouth and continued making a coffee.

"Are you seriously telling me you just eat Oreos in the morning?" Danny asked.

Eugene shrugged before looking back up at Danny, seeing his raised eyebrow.

Taking the cookie out of his mouth, he groaned, "Don't look at me like that."

Danny just gave him another look.

"C'mon man, I think the last time I actually ate a good meal in the morning was when I was dating you." Eugene shrugged again, sipping on his now finished coffee. "You're a damn good cook- I'd probably burn this place down."

Danny decided to just drop it and eat the Oreo, shaking his head with a slight chuckle rumbling in his chest.

"Aren't you going to meet with that Sherlock guy today?" Eugene asked, sipping on his still burning hot coffee, hissing when it burned his tongue again.

Danny leaned back against the island counter and sighed.

"Yeah. Let's just hope he's less loud and obscene than Liv." He laughed.

Eugene chuckled slightly, having met the girl himself.

"He didn't seem like it. Though he radiates douche bag essence." Eugene stated with a shrug and wild gesture of his hand.

Danny looked back up at him, "So do you." He said.

Eugene clicked his tongue, raising his mug at the statement as some sort of 'cheers', "Touché."

Eugene then turned and grabbed another mug, switching out the k cups for a tea and pressing the button again.

It was a quiet moment until Eugene handed Danny a tea, just the way he'd always made it, and raised his own mug forward again.

Clicking the mugs together, both men whispered 'clinkies' before going to take a gulp of their beverage, pulling away with a groan when they found it was still sweltering hot.

— EUGENE HAD LOANED DANNY HIS DRIVER FOR THE DAY. He'd stated that he had an investment meeting that would drain most of the afternoon anyway and insisted Danny put Al's navigational skills to good use.

So, finally arriving at his destination, Danny slid out of the car and said thanks to the large moustached man, who nodded with a kind grin in response.

Staring at up at the building, Danny quietly evaluated it. It had a lovely little sandwich shop right next door, which would definitely be nice for lunches (should the food actually taste good), and there wasn't a huge abundance of traffic as far as Daniel could tell.

Baker Street was looking rather nice, from where Danny stood. It looked like a street he used to frequent as a child, running along the sidewalk with metal trashcan lids as shields and kissing boys in back alleys.

It made him feel warm, for whatever reason. Nostalgic, almost.

Without realizing it, Danny's favourite doctor approached and nearly scared him out of his wits by reaching up and clapping a hand on the man's shoulder.

"Good lord, John" Danny gasped, trying to act like the breath didn't get knocked out of him in fear. "Give a man a warning, would you?"

John chuckled slightly, and leaned forward, "Shall we go in?"

"Shouldn't we wait for Mr Holmes?" Danny asked.

John shrugged, "He might already be inside. He didn't seem like the kind to have patience."

Danny laughed and nodded his head towards the door, gesturing that John should knock.

Behind them, a taxi pulled up and out stepped the- as Danny's friends had apparently deduced- 'impatient man, radiating douche essence'. He reached up to stiffen his coat collar and went to stand next to Daniel.

Danny smiled up at the man, realizing just now how tall he was. Sherlock's lips quirked upwards in the slightest sense before he cleared his throat, alerting John of his presence.

"Ah, Mr Holmes." John greeted once he'd turned around, reaching forward to shake the man's hand.

"Sherlock, please." He waved off.

John decided to make some conversation, "Well, this looks like a prime spot, must be expensive." He commented.

Sherlock held his hands behind his back, almost in childlike innocence, but really it just looked like he didn't know what to do with his hands, which was the more likely case.

"Oh, Mrs Hudson, the landlady, she's given me a special deal." He said, moving his hands to his pockets. "Owes me a favour. Few years back, her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help out." He spoke, observing the area around him.

John ducked his head slightly, "Sorry, you stopped her husband being executed?"

Sherlock turned back, "Oh, no, I insured it."

Danny snorted slightly, "Sounds festive."

"Well, it was better than sitting around bored for the weekend." Sherlock rolled his eyes slightly, like he thought Danny was mocking him.

"No, seriously." Danny smiled. "It sounds awesome."

Sentencing a man to death? That's so much more exciting than tossing a balled up piece of paper around your hospital room until someone drops it and everyone is either tubed, too lazy or too weak to get up and grab it.

After all that, arguing and trying to get Eric, the poor nurse that had to deal with them, to pick up the piece of paper because Tony didn't wanna waste any more of his notebook, they'd all just end up watching another Grey's Anatomy re run.

Sherlock cocked his head to the side ever so slightly, his curls bouncing with movement while he squinted down at the man.

Interrupting the conversation, a small woman answered the door in a lovely purple dress and kind smile.

"Sherlock!" She greeted, reaching out and giving him a hug.

"Mrs Hudson, Daniel Evans and Dr John Watson." Sherlock introduced.

John shook the woman's hand and Danny nodded kindly.

"Hello. Come in."

"Hello. Thank you."

Sherlock could walk easily through the quaint building, while Danny stayed behind John to make sure he didn't have any issues with his crutch.

Maybe it was reminiscent from the war the two had experienced, but they always watched out for each other in minuscule ways, whether it be making sure one could make it up the stairs or that one is eating enough or drinking enough fluids.

The small things. It was the whole reason Danny had moved to England in the first place; to look after John.

Danny believed he owed his life to John. Which could be true, in many cases. John had been the one to insist he be discharged after diagnosing him with cancer.

If it weren't for him, Danny would have most likely died before he had a chance to fight his illness.

Allowing Sherlock to open the door, Danny waited while John stepped into the room, looking around at a hideous mess.

Boxes were piled everywhere, papers scattered around the desk and floor, and a Union Jack pillow perched on top of all of it.

"This could be nice." John muttered, groaning lightly as he stepped further into the room. "Very nice indeed."

"Yes." Sherlock agreed, "Yes, I think so, my thoughts precisely."

"So I went ahead and moved in-"

"As soon as we get all this rubbish cleaned out-"

Danny covered his snort with an awkward cough as the other two men realized the situation.

"John, you just called his things rubbish." Danny pointed out, unhelpfully.

John let out a soft 'oh' while Sherlock's eyes widened the slightest measure and he began trying to stack the papers together and fix up the cluttered mess.

"Well, obviously I can straighten things up a bit." Sherlock cleared his throat as he stuck a letter opener of some degree into a pile of papers on the mantle.

"That's a skull." John pointed out on the wooden slab next to the papers.

"You're quick." Danny teased, pulling at the ends of his sweater.

"Friend of mine." Sherlock states, referring to the skull. "Well, I say friend."

Daniel grabs the pillow off to the side and holds it to his chest, "I love the Union Jack, by the way . Pride for your nation and all that- though the weather is pretty shit and the traffic is... well..." He trailed off, squishing the pillow together awkwardly.

Mrs Hudson then stepped into the room, "What do you think then?" She asked, referring to Danny and John. "There's another bedroom upstairs, if you'll be needing two bedrooms."

John squinted slightly at the woman, "Of course we'll be needing two-..."

He then glanced around at the room, pausing on Sherlock and Danny while Mrs Hudson made an almost unheard comment about how the landlady next door had 'married ones'.

"Hang on- there are three of us?" John commented.

Danny looked up from the pillow that he'd been picking at trying to preoccupy himself- not wanting to embarrass himself again in front of Sherlock, who was meant to be an uncertified genius.

"Sorry dears, I'm afraid one of you will have to take the extra bed in Sherlock's room." Mrs Hudson explained, shuffling into the small kitchen space next to the living area.

"Oh, Sherlock. The mess you've made!" The landlady exclaimed, looking out at the kitchen table which could barely be seen under the various items skewed across it's wood.

Daniel handed the Union Jack pillow to John, and stepped in after the woman.

"Don't worry, Mrs Hudson, I'll clean this all up." He put a gentle hand on her back and guided her out of the room to stand next to John, who had occupied the armchair.

Then, he returned to the table and began organizing through drawers and cupboards, finding homes for all of Sherlock's... equipment?

He did this until he finally realized that all of the items were probably not meant to be in a kitchen and ditched the project altogether, deciding if they were to stay here, he'd just find a way to properly organize it.

He had been listening to the conversation though, and heard something about Sherlock's website and airline pilot's thumbs.

"What about these su*cides then, Sherlock?" Mrs Hudson asked, having picked up the newspaper that had been discarded on the back of John's armchair. "I thought that'd be right up your street. Three exactly the same."

Daniel came to stand behind the woman, peeking over her shoulder at the article. She held it up a bit for him to see.

Sirens weren't an unusual thing to hear in London, but they were what pierced Danny's thoughts as he looked up from the paper.

Seeing Sherlock standing at the window, looking down at the street below and saying 'There's been a fourth, and there's something different this time'- Danny put the two together and realized the sirens must have been from a vehicle pulling up outside 221b.

He'd seen enough of Liv Marigold's work to know exactly what kind of man Sherlock was. He knew it was an addiction. The thrill of rushing brilliance, dazzling everyone or making everyone uncomfortable. You always had control of the room and it was like a drug that you just can't get enough of.

The only thing Danny could worry about now, looking at the way Sherlock's eyes lit up, was if his addiction was similar to hers.

And if it was? Boy, were they in trouble.

author's note

I gave y'all 200 extra words this time but I'm also really delayed in all this

I'm sorry ? It just took me a while to really get to know Danny as a character
I prefer it when I can get a feel of what they would do or how they would act and I just couldn't get that for him until now- and I didn't wanna keep half-assing chapters so I took a hot minute to just get to know my characters a bit better, the way I did with Tony from wdwg

Also- I'm really sorry if I ever miss censoring a trigger word such as that- I really don't want to upset anyone with my work, I write for you guys and I want it to feel that way
Let me know if you think it should be censored differently as well
And if there's anyone that thinks censoring that word is silly or childish in this context, I invite you not to share that opinion.

Anyway, I hope this is good? ♥️