No Vacancy at 221c: A BBC Sherlock Fanfic

A Stranger on Baker Street

A taxi pulled up to 221 Baker Street on a cold November afternoon. A figure emerged from the car after paying the driver generously with a flick of her gloved hand. Long reddish brown hair fell in waves back into the hood of her black fur-lined jacket. She paused a moment, her tall, slender shape leaning back to gaze at the building above with ambition burning in her eyes. She strode up to the door, steps long and purposeful. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, double checking the address on the ad for the available flat before reaching out and grasping the bronze door knocker and knocking twice.

For a full minute all was quiet. The stranger buried her hands in her pockets to ward off the freezing wind, only to jerk them out again as the door flew open.

There in front of her stood a middle-aged woman, who smiled. "Hello there, dear!" she said cheerfully. The stranger's posture remained pristine, but her lips curled up slightly in a polite smile. "So sorry for the wait, how horrid of me to keep you out there in the freezing cold!" Then, realizing that was precisely what she was doing at the moment, the woman opened the door wider and gestured for her to come in. "Come now. Wouldn't want you catching cold!" The door closed behind them as the stranger stepped in, her high-heeled boots clicking on the wooden floors.

"I'm Mrs. Hudson, by the way," the woman said, the smile back on her face as she extended her hand in greeting. Gracefully, the stranger pulled off her leather gloves, stuffed them in her pocket, and took the woman's hand with a smile. "And, uh, you are?" Mrs. Hudson inquired.

"Interested in your flat," the stranger answered.

"Oh! Well, um, the upstairs is taken. I'm afraid, all we have is-"

"I'm interested in 221c, ma'am," the stranger interrupted.

"Really, now?" Mrs. Hudson asked, her head cocked to the side, no doubt wondering why someone of this woman's stature would be interested in her basement.

"Yes, may I please see it?"

Mrs. Hudson nodded eagerly before guiding the stranger down a flight of stairs and leading her to the property. It was a large space, larger then the other flats actually, and with more living space since there was but one bedroom. The stranger's grey eyes swept over the empty rooms, taking in every detail as it came. Apparently the problems everyone else had found with the space were of no concern to this strange woman. She turned to Mrs. Hudson. "Mrs. Hudson, would you sell this flat to me?" she inquired, still looking off into the large master bedroom.

"Sell?" Mrs. Hudson repeated in surprise. "Dear, the flat is for rent, not-"

"Oh, everything is for sale for the right price, and please, just call me Celeste," she replied, impatience and a twang of an accent creeping into her speech. "Now, please. For what would you sell this property to me?"

"I'd say no less than 500,000," Mrs. Hudson admitted reluctantly.

"I'll give you 600,000" the stranger replied distractedly, rendering Mrs. Hudson speechless.

"Is that all right? Shall I draw the papers up?" She further inquired, looking back to the stunned woman.

Mrs. Hudson looked up with wide eyes. "Yes, yes. That's quite alright..." she said delighted.

"Good." Celeste said, as though she had simply decided what shoes to wear or where to go to dinner. "I'll be having this all remodeled," she continued, gesturing to the entirety of the place with her hand. "Is it alright if work begins immediately? I'll be able to have the papers officially made up by next week, but a head start would be wonderful seeing as though I'll have to find a place to stay in the meantime."

"Yes, dearie, of course! That's fine, why wouldn't it be?" The older woman's smile caused the skin around her eyes to crinkle in merriment, but suddenly those same eyes lit up.

"There are two rooms upstairs and John just moved out!" she said in an excited voice. "Of course you'll have to talk to Sherlock, but if it's only for a while-"

"Who's Sherlock?"