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[personal profile] girlwithcopperhair
"Doctor Watson?"

The young woman smiled and offered her hand.

"Violet Hunter."

She was the sort of woman who, doubtless, annoyed other women by sounding sixteen and looking twenty, even when she herself was thirty. Had to be to have been at college the same time as Sherlock Holmes. Her teeth showed as she grinned, a wide, open expression. The type of look that said she had no secrets. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, the end of which came to the middle of her back.

"You look just like the picture on your blog."

Friendly, certainly. No trouble with introductions, and she laughed warmly as she looked around.

"Sherlock's not here, then? Running late? Or," the tell-tale look of someone quite used to dealing with Sherlock and his ways, "did he forget?"
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[personal profile] notquiteheartless
Hi, Sherlock!
Been thinking about you, and I'd love to get together!
Got this really weird job offer, and since I've been following your friend's blog, I thought you might like to hear about it!
If you're not busy Friday, let's get lunch!!
Love,
Vi


Sherlock contemplated the email.

Under any other circumstances, he would have ignored it immediately. Violet Hunter was prone to exaggeration, and that was being kind. She also had far too much of a penchant for smiling and optimism, to the point of being an irritant. Still, she had gotten him through a very, very dull university literature course for which attendance was mandatory and he could not manage to test out of, bribing him with free coffee after every class he attended. Her promise of something to interest him offered some slight appeal. At the very least, it might pacify John. He wanted to see Sherlock take more cases, so he might as well sit down with Violet and hear her out.

Besides, it might be a welcome break. Even the prospect of something to vaguely interest him for even an hour would be better than the appeals of strangers about their mundane little problems. Affairs they desperately did not want confirmed, "stolen" credit cards their son or daughter had charged that they did not want to pay for, business partners hiding assets in preparation for a severance: all terribly, painfully dull. The answers were all too obvious. Even Lestrade had failed to turn anything up of interest. Sherlock was, of course, always concerned with Jim Moriarty, but the consulting detective knew he had to be patient to unravel the web his spider had made.

"John," Sherlock called. "We're going to lunch on Friday. A," 'friend' was not a word the man used lightly, "woman I went to university with is coming up to see us." That she might really only intend to see him did not even begin to occur to him. "She saw your blog and seems to think she has something to interest us."

He paused. Knowing Violet, she has already made reservations at a restaurant. He would still have a suggestion or two for where they could eat. Or, rather.

"Good places for lunch. What are some?"

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Casebook - A Sherlock Musebox

August 2012

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