CHAPTER TWO
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i. sherlock holmes !

— LUCKILY EUGENE CLIVE HAD AN EXPANSIVE VEHICLE THAT COULD ACTUALLY FIT FOUR PEOPLE IN THE BACK. They probably could have squeezed in a few more, if they really wanted.

When Mike Standford claimed he knew a man that might be willing to share a flat, they piled in and went on their way to meet him. Danny didn't even question why they were there at a hospital.

Passing by a young brunette woman with her hair in a ponytail, Danny offered a small smile as he continued to look around in wonder, spotting differences between this hospital and the one back in Phoenix.

All of it was very strange to him, but he didn't feel unwelcome which was either very good or very bad.

The pristine walls were a familiar sight and that weird hospital smell was swirling around Danny's senses as he stepped in through the door that Eugene held open for him, following the group inside to a more secluded room.

There were many different gadgets laid out along tables and chairs, and in the middle of the seemingly organized mess was a man with impossibly curly dark hair and high cheekbones.

John leaned on his crutch as he hobbled into the space, letting out a small mutter, "Bit different from my day."

Mike laughed slightly, "Oh, you've no idea."

"I don't know," Danny thought out loud. "There are a few things that I recognize." He shrugged.

"Mike," the curly haired man interrupted. "Can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine."

"And what's wrong with the landline?" Mike questioned.

"I prefer to text." He replied in a slightly cold tone.

"Sorry, it's in my coat."

Danny went to look at Eugene, only to see him poking at a microscope like it was some alien creature. Rolling his eyes in amusement, Danny looked back up and barely caught that John had offered the man his own phone.

"This is an old friend of mine," Mike introduced. "John Watson and- his friends Eugene Clive and...?"

Mike trailed off, trying to remember the final name, with John it was easy because they'd known each other for long enough, with Eugene it was simple because who in England didn't know him.

"Daniel Evans." Danny nodded in the man's direction.

"Lovely name." The man dismissed, sounding quite distracted as he flipped up the phone that John had offered him. "Afghanistan or Iraq?"

John looked up at Danny for a moment, both of them sharing a very similar look that basically said: 'who the fuck is this guy?'.

"I'm sorry?" John asked, making it clear that the man would have to re state his words.

"Which was it, Afghanistan or Iraq?"

John sighed slightly, glancing over at Mike as if to gauge some sort of explanation.

"Afghanistan." John replied, shifting from foot to foot. "Sorry, how did you know..."

The end of his statement was drowned as the same brunette woman Danny had seen earlier, pushed open the doors and carried a mug over to the un introduced man.

"Ah, Molly! Coffee, thank you." He took the warm beverage from her outstretched hand and stared at her for a moment. "What happened to the lipstick?"

The woman looked away shyly. "It wasn't working for me." She excused.

"Really? I thought it was a big improvement- your mouth's too... small now."

'Molly' looked quite disheartened at his words, and Danny could only recognize that gleam of crushed hopes in her eyes. His soul reached out to her, knowing all too well what an unrequited love felt like as she muttered out a small 'okay'.

"I think you look lovely, Miss...?" Danny leaned forward slightly, already understanding that she was a quiet person to begin with.

She looked surprised that he was talking to her, let alone complimenting her. "Hooper- Molly. Molly Hooper." She stumbled.

"Well, Miss Molly Hooper, you look splendid so don't you think on what he says." He whispered to her. Her blush was prominent as Eugene came up next to him, leaning in close so every breath the three took mingled with the others.

"I like whispering, what are we whispering about?" Eugene asked.

Danny wanted to laugh and roll his eyes, "Molly Hooper here is quite a specimen don't you think?"

Now, flirting. This, was something Eugene could get behind.

Daniel left the two to their conversation, which they whispered and giggled slightly.

"How do you feel about the violin." The still yet to be introduced man asked.

Danny came to stand next to John, putting a hand on the man's shoulder.

"Sorry, what?"

"I play the violin when I'm thinking and sometimes I don't talk for days on end. Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other."

Danny groaned internally, then spoke aloud, "God help us, it's another Liv Marigold. What was it- his shoes? My hair? I mean, really." He said, somewhat in a joking manner.

However, he really was curious if this man was similar to his old hospital bunkie, who could tell you exactly what you ate for breakfast just by looking at you once (and however many calories it had, just by pure knowledge alone).

The man looked at Danny with curious eyes, as if not expecting someone to know exactly how he got to his outlandish conclusions. His interest was piqued, that's for sure.

John, however, didn't quite catch on. He'd never met someone quite as bright as the man before them.

"You told him about us?" John asked Mike, who was still leaned up against one of the countertops, waiting for a good reaction out of someone, which John seemed to be delivering rather well.

"Not a word." He shook his head.

John shifted uncomfortably again, finding some small solace in the feeling of Danny's hand on his shoulder, keeping him grounded, keeping him sane.

"Who said anything about flatmates?" John stated more than asked.

"I did. I told Mike this morning that I must be a difficult man to find a flatmate for. Now here he is, just after lunch with a recently discharged hospital patient and an old friend. Clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan. Wasn't a difficult leap." He stated, putting a coat on and wrapping a scarf around his neck.

"Was it the shirt? Or maybe my face?" Danny muttered, trying to use what little training Liv had given him while they were bored out of their minds. The man glanced over at him, one part in amusement, the other two parts in curiosity.

John was still trying to understand what was going on.

"How did you know about Afghanistan?" John pressed again.

"Got my eye on a little place in central london. Together, the three of us ought to be able to afford it. We'll meet there tomorrow evening, seven o'clock." The man stayed. "Sorry, I've got to dash, I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary."

Molly had left a few minutes prior, claiming she had something to do, so Eugene had tuned back in and chose this time in particular to speak up.

"See, you can't just say things like that- people think you're weird for all the wrong reasons." He said.

"There's a right reason?" Danny whispered.

Eugene just shrugged.

As the man with dark curls and, now that Danny saw them closer, piercingly cold grey-blue eyes, made his way to the door, he leaned in to Danny's ear for a moment and let out a whispered breath.

"Tan line, haircut, posture." He said.

Danny raised his eyebrows, "Ah, you sneaky bastard." He joked.

"Is that it?" John called out as the man kept moving, seemingly in a rush to leave.

"Is that what?"

John gestures to himself, Danny and the man, "We've only just met and we're going to go and look at a flat?"

The man looked surprised, "Problem?"

John, ever the sceptic and untrusting, glanced at everyone in the room, (ignoring that Eugene was now drinking the rest of that coffee that Molly had brought in).

"We don't know a thing about each other. I don't know where we're meeting, I don't even know your name."

The man's eyes darkened, as if he took some of those words as a challenge.

"I know you're an army doctor. And you've been invalided home from Afghanistan. I know that he," he turned to Danny. "Is a recently discharged patient, cured of lung cancer with no surviving family and that he also served with you in Afghanistan."

He turned back to John. "I know you have a brother who's worried about you but you won't go to him for help because you don't approve of him, possibly because he's an alcoholic and more likely because he recently walked out on his wife. And I know that your therapist thinks your limp is psychosomatic, quite correctly, I'm afraid... That's enough to be going on with, don't you think?" He responded rather cockily as he opened the door.

"The name is Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221b Baker Street." He clicked his tongue with a wink and stated his farewells, leaving the group dumbfounded.

"Yeah, he's always like that." Mike stated, looking rather amused at the whole situation.

"Right," Danny stated, turning to Eugene who was still sipping away at the coffee and sitting on a metal stool. "We should get going, put that down."

"No." Eugene whined.

"Dear lor- how are you not dead yet?" Danny took the mug from him and set it on the counter, grabbing his best friend by the jacket and pulling him up, despite Eugene's protests. That man would do anything for coffee.

Danny and Eugene followed the other men out of the hospital, navigating each hallway with relative ease.

"I am staying with you for tonight, right?" Danny asked, wrapping an arm over Eugene's shoulders.

"Yeah man, you're always welcome, you know that." Eugene clapped a hand against Danny's chest, pulling away as he strutted on ahead. "Al will give everyone a ride home, let's go."

author's note

I think with this, I'm just gonna try and get as close as I possibly can to 2000 words so chapters might be disproportionate but it's a lot of work to write that many words as frequently as I'd like 😖😅

it'll only be a few hundred short of 2000, I promise that, no less than 1700

Honestly I really hate posting short but it's not worth going into the next scene in this chapter