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greenbagjosh · 2 months

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Days 5 - 7: Belfast - Dublin, the start of a tram system, Grafton Street and an excellent bacon sandwich to go with my Guinness pint.

Hi everyone, Welcome to Day 5 of my visit to Europe in Summer 2004. It is now Thursday 29th July 2004, and I had stayed two nights in Belfast, and had gone up and down that part of the UK. It is time now to go to Dublin, in the Republic of Ireland. I have breakfast at the rail station, called "Ulster fry", take the international train to Dublin, stopping only at Portadown, and arriving about 10:30 AM in Dublin Connolly. I went on a walking tour from the central post office on to Grafton Street, also viewing the Book of Kells at Trinity College. I took a ride on the LUAS from St. Stephen's Green down to Sandyford and back. The next day I went on a clockwise bus tour of Dublin, walked to Drumcondra, rode the train to Dublin Connolly, took the train to Howth and back, ate supper in Howth, then took a bus back to the hostel to sleep for my next journey on 31st July. Hope you will join me.

Dia daoibh, Fáilte go Lá 5 de mo chuairt ar an Eoraip i Samhradh 2004. Is é Déardaoin an 29 Iúil 2004 anois, agus d'fhan mé dhá oíche i mBéal Feirste, agus chuaigh mé suas agus síos an chuid sin den RA. Tá sé in am anois dul go Baile Átha Cliath, i bPoblacht na hÉireann. Tá bricfeasta agam ag an stáisiún traenach, ar a dtugtar “Ulster fry”, tóg an traein idirnáisiúnta go Baile Átha Cliath, ag stopadh ag Port an Dúnáin amháin, agus ag teacht timpeall 10:30 AM go Baile Átha Cliath Uí Chonghaile. Chuaigh mé ar thuras siúlóide ón oifig phoist lárnach go Sráid Grafton, ag féachaint ar Leabhar Cheanannais i gColáiste na Tríonóide freisin. Thug mé turas ar an LUAS ó Fhaiche Stiabhna síos go Áth an Ghainimh agus ar ais. An lá dár gcionn chuaigh mé ar thuras bus deiseal go Baile Átha Cliath, shiúil mé go Droim Conrach, mharcaigh mé ar an traein go Baile Átha Cliath Connolly, thóg mé an traein go Binn Éadair agus ar ais, d'ith mé suipéar i mBinn Éadair, ansin thóg mé bus ar ais go dtí an brú chun codladh do mo chéad lá eile. turas ar 31 Iúil. Tá súil agam go mbeidh tú páirteach liom.

Ciao a tutti, Benvenuti al 5o. giorno della mia visita in Europa nell'estate del 2004. È giovedì 29 luglio 2004, e sono rimasto due notti a Belfast, e ho viaggiato su e giù per quella parte del Regno Unito. Ora è il momento di andare a Dublino, nella Repubblica d'Irlanda. Faccio colazione alla stazione ferroviaria, chiamata "Ulster fry", prendo il treno internazionale per Dublino, fermandomi solo a Portadown, e arrivo verso le 10:30 a Dublino Connolly. Ho fatto un giro a piedi dall'ufficio postale centrale a Grafton Street, visitando anche il Book of Kells al Trinity College. Ho fatto un giro sulla LUAS da St. Stephen's Green fino a Sandyford e ritorno. Il giorno dopo ho fatto un giro in autobus in senso orario di Dublino, ho camminato fino a Drumcondra, ho preso il treno per Dublino Connolly, ho preso il treno per Howth e ritorno, ho cenato a Howth, poi ho preso un autobus per tornare all'ostello per dormire per il mio prossimo viaggio il 31 luglio. Spero che vi unirete a me.

Bonjour à tous, Bienvenue au cinquième jour de ma visite en Europe cet été 2004. Nous sommes le jeudi 29 juillet 2004 et j'ai passé deux nuits à Belfast et j'ai parcouru cette partie du Royaume-Uni de long en large. Il est temps maintenant d'aller à Dublin, en République d'Irlande. Je prends mon petit-déjeuner à la gare ferroviaire, appelée "Ulster fry", je prends le train international pour Dublin, je m'arrête seulement à Portadown et j'arrive vers 10h30 à Dublin Connolly. J'ai fait une visite à pied depuis la poste centrale jusqu'à Grafton Street, et j'ai également visité le Livre de Kells au Trinity College. J'ai fait un tour en LUAS de St. Stephen's Green jusqu'à Sandyford et retour. Le lendemain, j'ai fait un tour en bus dans le sens des aiguilles d'une montre à travers Dublin, j'ai marché jusqu'à Drumcondra, j'ai pris le train jusqu'à Dublin Connolly, j'ai pris le train jusqu'à Howth et retour, j'ai dîné à Howth, puis j'ai pris un bus pour retourner à l'auberge pour dormir avant mon prochain voyage le 31 juillet. J'espère que vous vous joindrez à moi.

Hallo zusammen, Willkommen zu Tag 5 meiner Europareise im Sommer 2004. Es ist jetzt Donnerstag, der 29. Juli 2004, und ich habe zwei Nächte in Belfast verbracht und bin durch diesen Teil des Vereinigten Königreichs gereist. Jetzt ist es Zeit, nach Dublin in der Republik Irland zu fahren. Ich frühstücke am Bahnhof, das „Ulster Fry“ heißt, nehme den internationalen Zug nach Dublin, halte nur in Portadown und komme gegen 10:30 Uhr in Dublin Connolly an. Ich habe einen Spaziergang vom Hauptpostamt zur Grafton Street gemacht und mir dabei auch das Book of Kells im Trinity College angesehen. Ich bin mit der LUAS von St. Stephen’s Green nach Sandyford und zurück gefahren. Am nächsten Tag machte ich eine Bustour im Uhrzeigersinn durch Dublin, ging zu Fuß nach Drumcondra, fuhr mit dem Zug nach Dublin Connolly, nahm den Zug nach Howth und zurück, aß in Howth zu Abend und nahm dann einen Bus zurück zum Hostel, um dort für meine nächste Reise am 31. Juli zu schlafen. Ich hoffe, Sie begleiten mich.

On Thursday 29 July 2004, I had been staying at the Belfast YHA hostel. It was time to check out, and go south to Dublin, in the Republic of Ireland. I would take the international train from Belfast Lanyon Place, then called Belfast Central, and ride in first class to Dublin Connolly. The train would stop only in Portadown, just north of the border. I checked out, with my luggage, walked to the Botanic rail station, took a 80 class train to Lanyon Place station, and went upstairs to the cafe for "Ulster Fry". Ulster Fry is not much different from Full English breakfast, except that it has a few more fried items. I had egg, bacon, sausage, a "potato farl", kind of like a hash brown patty, and a fried mushroom. I had one cup of tea, and another of coffee. About 7:50 AM, I went downstairs to the platform where the train to Dublin would depart from. I found my seat in First Class. Somehow I ended up in the dining car, but did not order anything.

The train left about 8 AM. I had my radio with me, on one of the local FM stations, they played "Ninety Miles from Dublin" by Christy Moore. The train made a prerecorded announcement of the train arrival in Dublin Connolly in the middle of the song. Later on, I heard "Lola's Theme" by the Shapeshifters as well as "Inner Smile" by Texas (a Scottish band that started in the late 1980s but did not achieve fame until at least their "White on Blonde" LP in 1997 / 1998). It seemed, from Belfast to Dublin, that it would be impossible to notice the difference between Northern Ireland and the Republic. It was only after the train passed through Drogheda (pronounced "Draw-dah"), that I would notice that I was in the Republic of Ireland. The train did not make any stops between Portadown and Dublin Connolly. The weather was a bit on-and-off rainy.

Most of the Irish railway system is unelectrified. Only from Howth to Bray was there any electrification on the main line, when I last read an article about the Irish railway system. I was surprised, already at Malahide there was electrification. The train was not very far from Connolly station. The train arrived about 10:30 AM on its own track. The exit was gated, so I had to go through the gates to exit the station for the bus to the hostel. I did not see any left luggage area in that station, though I have been told that there is one at the Heuston station due west of Connolly.

Leaving Connolly station, the statin building itself looks like something I might have seen in Northern Italy, kind of like from the Sforza family of Milan. Across the street from Connolly Station is the Busaras, or the central bus station. I asked about how to get to the hostel, but I was told to go to O'Connell Street by Abbey Street Lower and get a city bus from there. Although the LUAS red line tracks were being tested, that line would not go into operation until at least September or October that same year (2004). I had to walk along the sidewalk following the tracks to O'Connell Street. I saw a few light rail vehicles pass by. I knew of the green line, but it would not go farther north than St. Stephen's Green for many years (in 2024 it goes as far as Broombridge).

The Central Post office is at 47 O'Connell Street Lower. In at least one of the six Ionian columns, bulletts were shot into them in the 1920's struggle for independence from Great Britain. Nearby is an obelisque and on the opposite side of the road, towards Connolly Rail Station, is a statue of the writer James Joyce, who wrote "Ulysses". Incidentally, James Joyce was buried in Zurich, Switzerland, which I would visit on 7th August that same year. Only in the early 2020's, did the LUAS green line start operating along O'Connell Street Lower.

When I arrived at the post office bus stop, I found the bus route that went right to the hostel. It was about the corner of Dorset and Wellington Streets. Some time in the 2010s the actual building had been torn down, and has been replaced by university housing. I bought a day pass for the bus, which I think was 4 Euro back then. The bus went past Parnell Square before it made its stop on Dorset Street. I checked into a room with six beds. At the time, I did not see that an actual bed assignment would make any difference. Most of the time, no one minds if the wrong one might be accidentally taken. I would find out very early Saturday morning, that people would make a fuss. But for now, I would charge up my phone and my video camera, and in about an hour's time, walk to the bus stop at Blessington and Dorset, to go into downtown.

After I alighted from the bus at the post office, I walked along O'Connell Street. I made sure I had a good photo of the James Joyce statue. Then I walked past Middle Abbey Street, then along the Liffey to The Famine Memorial, at the Talbot Memorial Bridge. Many of the statues of the Famine Memorial looked lifelike. Then I went back to the O'Connell bridge, crossed the Liffey and stopped by the Mr. Screen cinema. There was nothing playing that I wanted to particularly see, so I walked farther south to College Street and on to Grafton Street. I entered the university at Nassau Street and went north to the library past Fellow's Square. The Book of Kells did not allow any photography. I was able to notice the pages of the bible, written on calfskin using various pigmentations.

Leaving the library, I went along Grafton Street to the St. Stephen's Green rail station. In general, Grafton Street is a pedestrian only passage. I passed by the Bewley's Cafe. They make good toffee sweets. At the time, the LUAS green line did not operate anywhere north of St. Stephen's Green. I walked to FitzWilliam Street Lower, along to Merrion Square. At the northwest end of the park, there was the Oscar Wilde statue. He was sitting, more like lying, on a rock, as if it were a bean bag. I walked by the Leinster House, the current seat of government for the Republic of Ireland, and also one of the ministries, probably for health and human services or similar.

At St. Stephen's Green, I bought a two ride ticket for LUAS. LUAS at the time, did not accept the bus pass, so I had to pay about 5 Euro for a day pass. I validated it, and boarded the next green line LUAS to Sandyford. The train went straight down Harcourt Street, before turning left on Adelaide Road, and turning right onto its own right of way. The LUAS went past Beechwood but somehow I had drifted off to sleep. I think it was still the jet lag. I was inspected by a fare inspector, and they said my ticket was fine. I alighted at Sandyford, the current southern terminus of the LUAS green line, and waited for the next one back to St. Stephen's Green. Once the LUAS arrived at St Stephens Green, I walked up Grafton Street, past the O'Connell Bridge to the post office, took the bus to Dorset Street, then went to the hostel. I think I went to sleep after that. I don't remember doing much else, other than listen to the radio and record local station broadcasts, some in English, some in Irish Gaelic.

On Friday 30th July 2004, it was a much nicer day than Thursday the 29th. I woke up, took a shower, and went downstairs to eat breakfast. The "Full Irish Breakfast" was at an extra charge, where the continental one was included in my stay. I went for the Full Irish breakfast, but it did not contain any black and white pudding, which is like a blood sausage, or a morcillo for those who know about Spanish sausages. I would hope to go into town and maybe have some black and white pudding, but I eventually waited for the next day.

I took the bus to the post office on O'Connell Street Upper, buying a day pass. There was a hop on hop off bus stop, where I could buy a ticket, good for all day transit on the hop on hop off bus. I had to wait until 10:20 AM until the bus departed. The bus went along the route past Parnell Square, the Obelisque, and back again south of the Liffey. The bus went past Trinity College, the house that Bram Stoker of "Dracula" fame once lived, the Molly Malone statue, St. Patrick's Cathedral, St. James Hospital, the Guinness Brewery, Magazine Fort, Heuston Station, and Ha'Penny Bridge. I alighted at Ha'Penny Bridge, and looked for some place to eat. On Anglesea Street just off Fleet Street, I found the Oliver St. John Gogarty pub. It also operated a hostel next door. I ordered a pint of Guinness and a bacon sandwich with fries. It was very good.

I went down the Grafton Street walkway before turning back and taking a bus to the post office. I bought some stamps for postcards at the office. Somehow there after I ended up walking east on Cathal Brugha Street past the Five Lamps to Clonliffe Road. I walked past the GAA Museum at Croke Park. Eventually I would end up at Drumcondra rail station. I could use my Eurail pass to gain access to the train platform for Connolly Station. The section between Drumcondra and Connolly was not electrified in 2004. I was feeling tired after walking so much. I think it was about 4 PM when I caught the train from Drumcondra to Connolly. Instead of the 80 class NIR DMU unit, I was riding on a nice commuter rail train. About where the train crossed Newcomen Bridge, the train came onto the electrified section to Bray/Greystones. At Connolly I transferred to the DART, which also recognized the Eurail Pass. It would be about 4:30 PM when I would board the train for Howth, called Binn Eadair in Irish.

The train to Howth arrived about 4:30 PM. It made about 9 stops before arriving at Howth. Howth is on a peninsula, and on the north side there is a harbor. There is also a shopping area and park close by. I had supper at the Fish Market. I think I had cod and chips along with a salad, and a pint of Guinness. It was really good, cost maybe 15 Euro. About 7 PM I went back to the Howth station to wait for the train back to downtown Dublin. Entering the station, I asked the guard if they would like to see my Eurail Pass, but he said "not particularly" instead of "No". He let me on to the platform. The train did not arrive until 7:30 PM. It departed about 7:40 PM. I stayed on the train until I arrived at Pearse Street. Pearse Street is an elevated commuter rail station. If you look eastward on Westland Row, you might think that you would be seeing a scene of "Glengarry Glenn Ross", where they say "Coffee is for closers". I took the bus back to the post office, and another one of the hostel. Then I went to sleep, at least for a while. Then I was woken up about 5 AM or so. But that's a story for another day.

I hope you will join me in my next journey, from Dublin to Milan. Question: at what airport do I get my passport checked? If you know Ireland's customs union with the UK, it may likely not be at Heathrow, but please stay tuned anyway. See you then!

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j-eryewrites · 2 years

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The Abbey Grange Affair

Part Six of The Arbitrary Lives of the Occupants of 221B Baker Street

Previous | Next

SERIES MASTER LIST | MAIN MASTER LIST

Word Count: 4.4 k

Trigger Warning: Gunshots, Sherlock is Sherlock.

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Life had seemed to die down a bit after the events of the prior weeks, at least 221B’s definition of died down. Sherlock was still Sherlock: shooting his gun whenever his mind grew bored, asking Mrs. Hudson for tea, never keeping the milk in his fridge stocked, etc. However, there was a new addition to the lives of the occupants of 221B Baker Street. After the events of A Study in Pink, the name John gave the case, Y/N had become a more frequent visitor to her upstairs neighbour’s apartment keeping John company when he wrote his blogs while she searched for a job. John wished he could do something to help Y/N with her current occupational situation. It was not long ago when, he too, had been out of a job.

Speaking of his Y/N and his flatmate, they seemed to be getting along. Although Sherlock and Y/N were no longer at each other’s throats and only really barely speaking in passing, John called it an improvement. At least his fear of having to call Greg one night after Sherlock said the wrong insensitive thing to Y/N decreased.

The days had grown shorter and colder. Cases appeared to die down a bit. It seemed as if the criminals hated the cold nights too much and would prefer to stay nice and warm indoors. This occurrence left Sherlock in a dangerous position. With no cases to occupy his mind, he grew bored–dangerously bored. As John typed away at his blog, the occasional yelling of “Bored!” could be heard coming from Sherlock’s mouth. Seconds later the sound of his gun would fire and the poor walls that held up their home would become a little more damaged. After the third shout of boredom from Sherlock, John had enough. He would prefer if the walls did not crumble down on top of him. Marching out of his room he came to a stop in front of Sherlock.

“Would you stop that?!” John practically yelled at the man. Getting a good look at Sherlock, he began noticing his friend’sdishevelled state. Sherlock’s usually well-kept head of dark curls was a pigsty. He was wearing the same outfit he had been wearing for the past three days: a wrinkly blue button-up shirt with a few buttons opened at the top and dark trousers that looked as if to be stained by the tea that used to occupy the various cups placed next to him. Sherlock looked up at John with a hint of disdain as if John had asked him to do the impossible.

“Find me a case, John,” replied Sherlock.

John sighed rubbing his forehead, “Have you called Greg?”

“They don’t have a case for me.”

“Have you checked your emails, Sherlock?”

“The battery ran out.”

Exasperated John looked at Sherlock. Sometimes it felt like he was babysitting his friend. “Well then charge it. You have a charger for a reason, Sherlock.” John folded his arms are looked at Sherlock expectantly and Sherlock made no move to charge his computer. John then took it upon himself to charge his flatmate’s computer.

Once John’s back turned, Sherlock lifted up the gun and yelled the same warning words, “Bored!” and fired. John practically jumped out of his skin.

“Right, that’s it. I’m calling Y/N.”

“You wouldn’t,” grumbled Sherlock as John took the gun from his hands. John felt a bit bad for calling on Y/N, but she seemed to be the only one who could keep Sherlock from further destroying their flat out of boredom.

“I already called Mrs. Hudson and that did nothing. So yes. I am calling Y/N,” sternly said, John. He gave Sherlock one more disapproving look at pulled out his phone calling Y/N.

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Finally, she arrived at her destination. In the windows of the building, Y/N glanced over her appearance: Hair dishevelled, shirt slightly untucked, shoes untied. To say the least she looked like a mess. She frantically tucked in her shirt and tied her shoes, her hair would have to wait. Even so, wasn’t messy hair “in” these days? Collecting her breath and standing taller, she entered the building.

Y/N walked up to the front desk where a nice-looking woman sat. She had bright red hair and dark brown eyes. Her skin was adorned with freckles. “Hello,” introduced Y/N, “I’m here for an interview.” The woman looked up at Y/N. “The temp job.”

The woman’s eyes crinkled in the corners, “Right, of course, it’s on the third floor, and the sixth door is on the right. You can’t miss it.”

Smiling back at her, Y/N glanced around the room. Looking down and fixing her shirt again.

“Nervous?” The woman asked.

“Definitely. It’s been a while since my last interview.” Y/N said.

“Well…good luck.” The woman replied.

Nodding her head, Y/N headed off to the elevators. She turned and waved the nice lady at the desk goodbye. Which was not at all reciprocated. So Y/N awkwardly brought the risen hand into her hair.

Pushing the required buttons, she was in the elevator and on her way up to the third floor. In her head, she repeated the instructions that the lady gave her.

Immediately when the doors of the pristine steel elevator opened up, Y/N took in the sight of fifteen other people, maybe more, who were waiting for something. All of them contained a similar yellow file that Y/N carried in her right hand. Expect their files were not crinkled and torn along the edges. Finding an empty seat, Y/N sat down and began to look through her papers. My references are great, so is my resume. Why am I so god damn nervous?

Her train of thought was broken by the voice of an older man. “Y/N L/N?”

“That’s me,” she croaked.

“You’re up.” He said.

She got up from her seat and followed the man through the sixth door on the right. Her palms are sweaty as they held the yellow file. Taking a deep breath she sat down in the chair designated by the elder man. He took his seat behind the mahogany desk, bringing his hands to fold just below his chin. Similar to how a certain neighbour of hers would do when he was in deep thought. The man cleared his throat and the interview began.

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The clinking of the silver spoon against the tea cup was all Y/N could hear as her thoughts ran wild. Did I say the right things? What if I’m not good enough? No never mind, what if they think I’m too qualified for the job? She was so lost in thought that she didn’t see a familiar man walk up to her. It was only when he began to speak that his Irish accent brought Y/N out of her nervous state.

“Mind if I sit here?” He looked around the cafe. “There are no other chairs around.” He chuckles.

Looking up, Y/N replies, “Oh, of course.”Gratefully the man sits down, placing his tea in front of him. His chocolate brown eyes look back up at her and a tinge of familiarity reaches her. “Do I know you?” She asked.

The man only smiled and stirred his tea. “Maybe, I know lots of people. I’m…” He began to say.

“Wait. You’re Jim. From the airport?” She puzzles. “Please tell me I’m right, I would be so embarrassed if it wasn’t you.”

The man paused for a minute as a slight smile crept on his face. Then he let out a chuckle, “That’s me. Oh!” as if he had a revelation, “You’re…” snapping his fingers trying to remember, “Y/N.”

“Right! That’s me.” She grinned. “How…How have you been?”

“Great.” He elongated as another chuckle left his mouth. His eyes look into Y/N’s.

“Isn’t life always,” Y/N said as she rolled her eyes.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile. “Funny running into you here.” She said. Y/N glanced down picking up her tea to drink it.

“You know,” Jim began as he leaned slightly closer to Y/N looking up at her as he carefully sipped his tea. ”I was just thinking about the beautiful girl I met at the airport and how much I would like to take her out for dinner one night.” He paused. “If that’s alright with her.”

Y/N bit her lip and a pink tint flooded her cheeks. “You know, what’s funny?” He nods in response. “I was also thinking about a guy I had met at the airport. And how I possibly would go out to dinner with him.”

Jim’s head tilted to the right in curiosity, “Possibly?”

Y/N chuckles, leaning in closer to Jim his clean, pine-like scent filled her nose. “Ya.” She replied. “You see, I don’t have his number.” She pulled out her phone motioning for Jim to take it and type in his number.

Jim’s smile only grew brighter as he grabbed the phone delicately from Y/N’s hand, causing their fingers to lightly brush against each other. A few seconds later, the phone was back in Y/N’s hand and the screen was filled with the contact information for Jim.

“Thank you,” said Y/N.

“Not a problem,” Jim responded, but before he could respond Y/N’s phone began to ring and John’s name popped up on her phone.

Sighing, she looked up at Jim, “I’m sorry, I’ve got to take this.”

Jim raised his hands motioning her to take the call. “It’s alright.”

Answering the phone, Y/N was met with John’s voice. “Y/N, he’s at it again.”

“John, I don’t understand why you are calling me for this. Plus, I’m busy right now.” She replied as she looked back over at Jim.

She could practically hear John rubbing his forehead with stress lines caused by Sherlock. “Please, Y/N. For some reason, he isn’t bored when he’s with you. Not that you two really do much. Just…He’s shooting the walls and I would rather not die because a ceiling collapsed on my head.”

Slightly grumbling to herself, Y/N reluctantly agrees, “Fine! I’ll be there in a little bit.” John did a little cheer. “But! John, you owe me one. Also, don’t let Sherlock accidentally do something stupid before I get there okay?” At the mention of Sherlock, Jim’s smile began to falter, but it quickly was replaced when Y/N looked back at him again. John agreed to do his best and the call ended.

“Jim, I’m…I’ve got to go. But I would still love to go to dinner.” Y/N explained.

Jim nodded, “I understand, and I’ll text you about dinner.” He glanced up at the woman as she gathered her things.

“But I have your number.” She responded.

“I know, I just messaged myself with it, so I have your number.” He winked.

Having all her stuff gathered and the pinkness in her cheeks never faltering, she took one last glance at Jim before she was out the door and on her way to 221 B Baker Street. Leaving many empty taxis along the side of the road waiting for passengers as she strode home.

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Sherlock’s back got a little bit straighter as he heard the familiar footsteps of the occupant downstairs. Specifically, the way wood creaked underneath her feet as she got closer and closer to 221B. Sherlock heard the footsteps stop just outside the door. He smirked as he thought of Y/N preparing herself to enter, preparing her mind for what experiment, the state Sherlock, or the apartment would be in. Anything could be possible after John’s ominous call. Slowly the doorknob turned, and the sight of a dishevelled woman stood before him. Her hair was widely out of place as if the wind decided to take its turn to dance with it. Her shirt was untucked and the button at the top was loose. Her cheeks were flushed like when she would come back to her flat after she went for a run.

Sherlock fully expected a short hello from the woman, but he was utterly surprised when the word you left her mouth in a scornful tone. Her eyes narrowed at Sherlock, and he couldn’t help the gulp he made. Sherlock wasn’t afraid to admit that Y/N scared him. Although he would never admit it out loud.

“You!” Y/N said again her voice raising slightly and she pointed a finger at Sherlock. Before she could say anything more, John appeared and began to explain the situation to her. Her E/C eyes glanced over Sherlock as John ranted about how Sherlock was going to be the death of him. Sherlock continued to sit tall in his chair observing the conversation. After hearing enough, Y/N took a deep breath and began to approach the detective. Her legs came to a stop right in front of Sherlock, so that he had to look up at her.

“I’m only going to say this once, so you better listen Sherly.” Sherlock’s nose crinkled at the sound of that nickname. It was the one his mother called him by. “You are going to get out of that chair. You are going to take a shower and clean yourself up. Then you will come out and eat something before taking a nap.” Y/N’s hands moved to her hips as Sherlock opened his mouth to retort but she cut him off. “Look, my aunt is your landlord yet you treat her like a maid. John is your flatmate yet you view him as inferior, otherwise, you wouldn’t disrespect him. I’m your neighbour and I should not have to feel like I have to babysit you. Hell, I should be getting paid for this.” She chuckled to herself lightly and then her eyes met Sherlocks, “If you are at all a good person, you will do as I say and take care of yourself and show John and Mrs. Hudson some respect. I don’t care if you do the same for me. You saved my life for heaven's sake! But all I ask is that you do that for them.” Sherlock sat there in his chair, his back loosening as he sank under Y/N’s glare. This was the longest she had ever talked to Sherlock since the incident of the Study in Pink. Slowly Sherlock rose from his chair. His head inched higher and higher until he stood taller than Y/N, looking down at her with his glacier-blue eyes. Y/N could feel his breath on her face as they stood close together. John, watching the whole scene, quietly excused himself to the kitchen to make some tea, if he could find some in their battlefield of a kitchen.

Neither, Sherlock nor Y/N budged from their close proximity. After what seemed like an eternity, Sherlock made his way around Y/N, placing his hands on her shoulders, and then headed to the bathroom to wash up as Y/N had commanded earlier. Once the door had closed and the sound of the lock was heard, Y/N let out a sigh and walked over to the kitchen where John was still scavenging for tea.

Looking up at the woman John commented, “You must be a magician or something. I’ve been trying to get him to do that for a few days now.”

A sweet laugh escaped Y/N’s mouth. “Not magic. I can tell you that.”

There was a pregnant pause as John kept looking for the tea. Then a triumphant cheer left his mouth as he held up the tea bags. “Want some tea?” John asked.

“I would love some,” Y/N replied.

As John began to make the tea, Y/N glanced around the room, and to say it was a mess was an understatement. She knew the efforts that John and her aunt went through to make sure that the flat looked like this. Hearing the sound of the shower turning on, Y/N decided to help ease the burden on her friends, plus it would serve as a distraction from the failure of her interview this morning.

Picking up the empty teacups and dishes filled with Sherlock’s experiments that were scattered around the room, John began to observe the woman. From her demeanour, he could tell the interview didn’t go well. Wishing he could do something to help, he turned back to his tea thinking of possible job openings that he knew of. Before he knew it, the tea was done and the flat never looked better. His eyes grew wide as he could finally see the table tops free of scattered papers and unknown sticky substances. It had only been a few minutes, but Y/N had worked her magic.

Smiling John told Y/N that the tea was ready. She lifted her head and smiled at him as she made her way over to the now-cleared counter with the steamy, warm cup of tea waiting for her.

Drinking his own tea, John became some simple conversation. “So, how did the interview go?”

The motion of stirring the tea with her right hand stopped. Her eyes never left the dainty cup with a chipped corner in front of her. “Alright….I didn’t get it.” She sighed. “They said I was too qualified for the job.”

“You’ll find a job, Y/N. Don’t give up hope.” John comforted. “I was in your situation not long ago, but that was until I met Sherlock and he took me on.” He paused, and a bright smile grew across his face. He looked up at Y/N and then at the flat. John thought of how she could get Sherlock to listen. He knew what to do, but first, he had to get consent from a certain consulting detective. That would be the hard part.

“What are you thinking of?” Y/N asked. Her curiosity peaked due to John’s expression.

Toning down his smile, he glanced at Y/N, replying, “Oh nothing, just an idea.”

“Okay…” speculated Y/N. “Well, I’m going downstairs to grab some food for Sherlock. I’ll be back.” And with that, she was gone. Her footsteps receded down the stairs.

John’s head snapped towards the sound of the bathroom door opening. Out emerged steam and a tall consulting detective. His curly hair was damp and sticking to his forehead. He wore a clean dark purple button-up and a new pair of trousers that were stain free. Without saying a word, he strutted towards the kitchen and poured himself some tea. John picked up his cup and leaned against the counter, slightly humming to himself.

Sherlock inquired, “Where’s Y/N.”

“Oh, she just popped downstairs to get some food.” John chirped.

Sherlock only nodded his head. “Spill it,” demanded Sherlock.

John gave Sherlock a puzzling look. “Spill what?”

Sherlock sighed looking up from his tea, the dark bags underneath his eyes ever so present. “You only are this cheerful when you get an idea or want something from me. Spill it.”

Placing down his tea, John leaned towards Sherlock and in a hushed tone began, “You should hire Y/N as your assistant.”

It had looked as if Sherlock had been told he could never work on another case again. “No.” Sherlock concluded.

“Sherlock,” John huffed, “Look at the state of our flat.”

Sherlock glanced around and then shrugged. “Nothing new.”

“Well, I” motioning to himself, “I can see the tables and finally find things in the kitchen.” Sherlock continued to drink his tea unamused. “Sherlock, you listen to her.” The man before John began to glare at him. “Just hire her to help keep up the flat, make sure that you are taking care of yourself, and heck you could even have her help you find cases! That poor woman has been looking for a job since she got here. She refuses to ever ride in a cab because of the incident you roped her into.” John looked at Sherlock, his facial expression never wavering. “You still haven’t apologized. If you say yes. I’ll count this as the apology you never gave her.”

Now that had caught Sherlock’s attention. The promise of an apology–a sincere apology forever loomed above his head. Along with the guilt of placing her in the hands of a serial killer. “Fine” he grumbled so quietly that John thought he had dreamt it.

“What? I couldn’t hear you.” John said.

“Yes!” Snivelled Sherlock, “We can hire Y/N as our assistant.”

John made a triumphant sound as the door to their flat opened with the figure of their neighbour. In her hands, she carried food for Sherlock to eat. Placing the plate before Sherlock and commanding that he eat it all, she picked up her tea and began to drink it.

John looked over at Sherlock who was reluctantly stuffing his face with the dinner Y/N had made him. Clearing his throat, “Y/N.” Her head turned towards him. “Sherlock and I were just discussing, and he would like to hire you as his assistant if you are interested.” John proposed.

Y/N’s eyes widen at the proposal. In disbelief, she began cracking up. “You…You want to hire me?”

John was about to reply when Sherlock beat him to it. “Yes. Is the thought of that so absurd?”

Calming down, Y/N turned towards Sherlock. “No, it’s not.” Taking a pause, she continued. “Would being your assistant entail?”

This time John beat Sherlock to the punch. “You would help keep the flat in a decent state, make sure Sherlock eats and takes care of himself, find cases, and organizes things. Mainly assistant things.” Y/N nodded her head. It didn’t sound too bad.

“You would also accompany me on cases,” Sherlock stated.

It seemed as if Y/N froze. The last time she was dragged–carried along to Sherlock’s case she ended up in the hands of a serial killer. But she needed the money and the job. Hesitantly she replied, “Alright.” Her voice was even and calm, but Sherlock knew better.

“You’ll be safe. I promise.” Assured Sherlock. Y/N’s eyes met Sherlock’s. The setting sun crept through the window hitting his eyes at just the right angle making them shimmer.

“Okay,” She whispered.

With business settled, John headed to bed leaving Sherlock and Y/N by themselves. A silence fell over them–an understanding. Sherlock had finally finished the meal and rose from his seat to take care of the dishes, passing Y/N along the way. As he turned on the faucet and began washing his dishes from behind him, he heard Y/N ask, “What got you to say yes to John?”

Smirking he retorted, “What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean, Sherlock.” Y/N asserted.

The plate made a clinking noise as Sherlock placed it on the drying rack to dry. “I still hadn’t apologized.”

A pregnant silence fell over the two. Sherlock placed his hand on the counter, his back still turned to the woman. The sound of a chair scraping the floor was made and in the corner of his eye, he saw her hand carefully place her used teacup in the sink. Her figure headed to the door but before she left the words that would ease Sherlock’s consciousness.

“Apology accepted.”

______________________________________________________________

The sun was shining through the dark treetops. Underneath their dancing branches, two young children began running. Their laughter filled the silent woods. The young boy’s pace began to pick up as he leapt over roots and fallen branches. The girl behind him began to lose her footing. Suddenly the sound of crunching leaves could be heard alongside a high-pitched groan causing the boy to halt in his steps.

He quickly turned around and ran back towards the girl. Her hair covered her face as she rose from the ground into a sitting position. She winced in pain as she brought her knee to her chest. The boy came to a stop beside her.

“Are you alright?” He concernedly asked.

“No..” cried the girl. “I think I did something to my leg.

The boy glanced at her leg and found a scrape. The wound was fresh and covered with the dirt of the ground. “It looks like a scrape.”

The girl began to whimper. “Are we gonna make it in time, James?”

“Of course, we will,” James confirmed. “I promised you a meteor shower, Starburst.”

“You’ve got to stop calling me that,” chuckled the girl.

James dramatically gasped. “Whatever for, Starburst?” Carefully, he helped her to her feet, and together they walked towards their destination.

James turned towards the girl and began uttering her name. “Y/N.” She looked at the boy. “Y/N, wake up.” She raised her eyebrows. “Wake up!”

Awaking with a start, her eyes began to adjust to the darkness of her room. Above her stood two figures, one tall and lean and the other much shorter. The fuzz began to fade, and their images became much clearer.

“Sherlock? John?” Y/N groaned. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t look at me” replied John. Her eyes moved from John to Sherlock.

Sherlock straightened his coat, leaning towards the woman. “Get ready to go, Y/N.”

Sitting up she looked at Sherlock. “Why?” She asked as she rubbed away the sleep from her eyes.

“The Game is afoot,” beamed Sherlock, his eyes alight with a gleaming blue fire.

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This is the first part of the Abbey Grange chapter that I have adapted. Let me know what you guys think! Also, if there are any specific Sherlock stories you would like to see adapted for this fanfic let me know! Happy New Year everyone!!

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