No Vacancy at 221c: A BBC Sherlock Fanfic

First Deductions

"You knew."

"Huh?" Sherlock had been staring out the window.

"You knew things about me before I even told you, didn't you? That's what John said, about you telling them if I didn't myself."

Sherlock simply nodded, but Celestia persisted.

"How? Well, wait, let me be more specific." Pausing a moment, Celeste drummed her gloved fingers against her knee. "What did you know before I told you my name?" she suggested slowly, challenging him to expose his skill. She knew, of course, that a good bit of her personal information was public, but what did he know without that advantage?

Sherlock looked over at her, considering her challenge and began to speak quickly in a low voice. "You're wealth was obvious by your clothing, while not giving away your status. Your posture did that, the way you held yourself practically screamed its familiarity with attention and your sensitivity for manners.

"The fact that you arrived in a cab and not a private vehicle could be explained two ways. One: you didn't want to be seen - possibly to keep a case you had for me on the quiet side, but it was obvious you didn't have a case by your confidence level and hesitation in entrance - or two: more likely you weren't from London and wished to lay low for a while. This was, of course, supported by your interest in the flat. Why else would anyone like you settle for less than a palace if you didn't mind being seen?

"The fact that you were foreign came from the way you paid the cab driver. The only money you were carrying were large bills, which could be explained by a recent exchange, foreign currency wouldn't do you much good would it? Oh, and the amount of money you held was huge, considering you could just use a card, but as we both know cards can be tracked."

At this point he smiled smugly over at a amazed Celestia, his excitement growing along with his voice. He went to speak again but was cut off.

"How did you know how much money I was carrying and of what kind?"

Sherlock retorted mockingly, "Not so observant as we thought, huh? I suppose a figure in the window went unnoticed."

Celestia closed her eyes for a moment, then sighed as she opened them again. "Yes, you did, but I still caught you!" she countered, tapping a finger to her temple.

She shook her head slowly, her hair falling over her shoulders. "I can't believe it," she whispered. "That's truly remarkable!" An amazed breath and wide eyes. "Deduction..."

"You've heard of it?" Sherlock questioned, doubting she remembered its previous mention.

"Well, yes!" Celestia looked up to meet his interested gaze. "I've studied it, in fact." Sherlock's head turned to the side, willing her to continue.

"I discussed the method with my professors at university, but they all viewed it as a ridiculous fairy tale of an endeavor," explained she sorrowfully. "But to me it's practically a science!"

"Bloody good website by the way," Sherlock interrupted.

"The science of deduction? Oh, that's one of my favorites!" Her statement was given wholeheartedly. "Written by a genius... Oh! What's his name?" she growled in frustration.

Shutting her eyes in a flash, she brought to mind the website she had visited so many times.

Suddenly Celeste breathed in sharply, as if she had burned her mouth on something much too hot. Her eyes opened slowly to look at the expectant face of a detective. "Sh-Sherlock Holmes..." she muttered, the name holding new meaning. She began to laugh. "I suppose you may be right, I've lost my touch!" she mused with mock seriousness.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and was about to return her sarcastic remark when the cab stopped abruptly.

Moments later, the it had driven away (rather quickly at that) and left the pair in front of an abandoned warehouse. The street was empty, trash blowing in the blustery weather and graffiti sprawled across the tall industrial buildings.

"What a pleasant little neighborhood," Celeste remarked dryly.

She followed Sherlock into the alley on the right of the building and stood back as he nearly yanked the door to the service entrance off of its rusted hinges.

They peered into the darkened enclosure for a moment. Sherlock looked over at Celestia, who still acted as though she were taking a walk in the park, and looking as if she could be on the cover of a magazine.

"Hope you brought a torch," she said in answer to his stare.

He smiled and pulled a small electric torch out of his jacket pocket. "Of course I did," he answered, "I'm Sherlock Holmes!"