This is another part of my Sherlock series. It will explore alternate scenarios and deleted scenes with Sherlock and Tammy. If there was ever something that you wanted to see happy between them, now is your chance to have it happen!

Now, to those who have just discovered this series, be aware, that Tammy and Sherlock's story is already completed. This is like a Bonus for the people who loved my series. Now, I do suggest reading the previous series so this makes sense. But, it's not mandatory, but if it jumps around a bit, there's a reason for it.

As always, I own nobody except for Tammy, Linda, Sherlock Jr., Alexander, Scott, John, and William.

Alternate Meeting Pt. 1

I smile as I gaze around the flat; the smell of fresh green paint fills the air. I turn towards Mrs. Hudson and nod. "Yes, this will do perfectly."

"I'm glad you like it my dear." She's a kind, sweet, older lady and I liked her the moment I met her. "I hope you'll be happy." A knock on the door causes us to turn towards the stairs and head down towards the main entrance. "Now, that will be either the men with your furniture or it'll be my two other boarders. Sherlock Holmes and….I actually don't know who else he's bringing."

I frown. "Who'd name their child Sherlock? A curious name."

Mrs. Hudson nods. "I know, but he's a curious man. He's a detective; he helped ensure that my husband was convicted for murder. No one could find any evidence, but Sherlock did. He's a good man."

I tried not to be completely baffled as to why a sweet woman like Mrs. Hudson would claim a man who helped convict her husband to be a good man. But there was a story in there somewhere, but I couldn't ask her. Maybe her husband was a rotten man and that's why it made it easy for her. After all, hadn't I just hadn't I flown all the way to England to avoid a man?

Robert, my fiancé. Frankly, I don't know what I saw in him. Maybe I was just so desperate to find love that I hadn't stopped and looked at the man. But then I walked into his office and found him making love to Cynthia, my best friend, on his desk. I wasn't prone to dramatics, but I threw my ring at him, had my lawyer ask around for a good flat in London and he'd found Mrs. Hudson. Robert would need a detective if he was going to find me, but I doubted that he'd be able to do that. I'd sworn off love, romance and men forever.

Mrs. Hudson opens the front door and I stay a few steps behind her. From what I can see behind her, there are two young men, her boarders, not the men with my furniture. She obviously knows the younger man, as she steps forward and hugs him. "Sherlock, hello."

Sherlock hugs her back briefly, and then steps back to present the other man to her. "Mrs. Hudson, Doctor John Watson."

Mrs. Hudson cheerfully acknowledges him. "Hello."

"How do?" He sounds a little uneasy about this whole thing.

Mrs. Hudson gestures Sherlock and John inside. "Come in."

"Thank you." John says graciously.

"Shall we?" Sherlock sounds slightly bored and impatient.

"Yeah." The men go inside and Mrs. Hudson closes the door behind them.

Sherlock steps into the hall and I'm able to get a good look at the two men. Sherlock, he's got an unusual face, not at all attractive, too thin for my tastes. His cheekbones are very prominent in his face. He turns and looks towards me, his eyes running all over every inch of me and I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't uncomfortable. I casually cross my arms around my waist, but that still doesn't deter his gaze.

Mrs. Hudson speaks up. "Sherlock, John, this is Tammy Taylor, she just moved above the flat you two are looking at."

I smile and step forward, holding my hand out to Sherlock. "Nice to meet you." He glances at my hand for a moment before taking it and shaking it firmly. There's a small burst of static when we touch and his gaze narrows as the looks at my hand, as if trying to figure out where the static came from. I look up at him and ask. "What?"

He doesn't respond. Sherlock trots up the stairs to the first floor, then pauses and waits for John to follow him upstairs. However, John steps towards me. I notice he's got a slight limp. He's a nice looking older man, with a kind face and a gentle voice. He smiles at me and extends his hand. "John Watson. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you."

Mrs. Hudson moves up the stairs and John and I follow her. John glances casually at me. "So…you're an American?"

"Yes. Is my accent that obvious?"

"Very." Sherlock said over the rail before disappearing. "As obvious as it is that you've run away to avoid an unhappy love affair."

I stared up in the direction he'd gone glanced at John. "How did he know that?"

"I don't know. I just met him today. He's kinda….unusual."

"That's one way of putting it, he gives me the creeps."

When John and I reached the top of the stairs, Sherlock opened the door ahead of him and walked into the flat. John and I followed him in the flat, I stopped in the doorway the sight of the various items, and boxes scattered around the room. It's a mess.

John is eyeing it dubiously; as was I, my flat had been cleaned and not loaded down with a ton of junk. "Well, this could be very nice. Very nice indeed."

"Yes, I think so. My thoughts precisely." Sherlock looks around the flat; he appears to be quite happy with the messy flat. "So I went straight ahead and moved in."

But John was speaking at the same time Sherlock was and his message was a different one. "Soon as we get all this rubbish cleaned out." His voice dies and he pauses as he realized what Sherlock was saying. "So this is all-

Sherlock looks a little bit embarrassed about the mess. "Well, obviously I can, um, straighten things up a bit." He begins to make a half-hearted attempt to tidy up the room. However, his idea of straightening things up is throwing items into boxes and placing items on the mantle piece. He then stabs tool knife into a bunch of envelopes on the mantelpiece, right next to a human skull. In spite of myself, I can't help but be morbidly interested in this man. After all, he's unlike anyone I've ever known before.

John has noticed the skull and he lifts his cane to point at it. "That's a skull."

"Friend of mine. When I say 'friend." Sherlock's voice dies and he mutters something under his breath.

Mrs. Hudson comes into the room, picking up a cup and saucer as Sherlock takes off his coat and scarf. "What do you think, then, Doctor Watson? There's another bedroom upstairs if you'll be needing two bedrooms."

John almost looks insulted, but he's defiantly surprised. "Of course we'll be needing two."

"Oh, don't worry; there's all sorts round here." She whispers. "Mrs. Turner next door's got married ones." John looks to Sherlock, expecting him to confirm that he and John are not a couple. But Sherlock is oblivious and in his own little world. Mrs. Hudson enters the kitchen before turning to frown at Sherlock, scolding him lightly. "Oh, Sherlock. The mess you've made." He glances in her direction, but doesn't comment. I enter the kitchen and begin to help her straighten up somewhat. "Thank you Tammy dear."

"No trouble. I'm happy to help."

John walks over to one of the two armchairs and drops heavily down into it. He looks across to Sherlock who is still tidying up a little. I shake my head, pick up a dirty teacup, and move it into the sink, finding it full of papers. I shake my head and begin pulling the papers out.

"I looked you up on the internet last night." John says.

That caught Sherlock's attention. "Anything interesting?"

"Found your website," John says slowly. "The Science of Deduction."

"What did you think?" Sherlock sounds very prideful of his website and that wouldn't surprise me.

John throws him a disbelieving look and Sherlock looks slightly hurt by John's deduction. "You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and an airline pilot by his left thumb."

At that point, I turn around and look towards him, definitely curious. "Really?"

Sherlock gives me a curt nod. "Yes," he turns to John. "and I can read your military career in your face and your leg, and your brother's drinking habits in your mobile phone."

"How?" John asks.

Sherlock simply smiles secretly and turns away. I'm almost tempted to ask how he know about my unfortunate relationship with Robert, but I decided not to give him the satisfaction of letting him know that I was curious. Mrs. Hudson comes out of the kitchen reading the newspaper. "What about these suicides then, Sherlock? I thought that'd be right up your street."

I frown and ask. "Suicides?"

She nods and hands me the paper. "Three, exactly the same."

I frown as I begin reading the paper. "Then they can't be suicides, unless the victims know each other. Three people can't commit the same suicide together."

"Four." I look up from the paper to see Sherlock looking out of the window down into the street. "There's been a fourth. And there's something different this time."

Mrs. Hudson asks in confusion. "A fourth?"

"Murder." I fill in for her. "I'm assuming, though, I've no idea how he'd know that."

A man runs up the stairs and comes into the living room. He's an older man, with very pleasant features. Sherlock obviously knows him and his connections to the case for he asks. "Where?"

"Brixton," he says as he tries to catch his breath. "Lauriston Gardens."

"What's new about this one?" Sherlock attempts to act disinterested, but I can sense that he is dying to know more. "You wouldn't have come to get me if there wasn't something different."

"You know how they never leave notes?"

Sherlock nods. "Yeah."

"This one did. Will you come?"

Sherlock hesitates for a second before asking. "Who's on forensics?"

The man hesitates before saying. "It's Anderson."

Sherlock immediately grimaces and turns aside. "Anderson won't work with me."

"Well, he won't be your assistant."

"I needan assistant."

Frankly, considering how he's recently bragged to John about how he can identify a pilot by his thumb, he must be brilliant, so why need an assistant? The man insists. "Will you come?"

Sherlock attempts to sound disinterested. "Not in a police car." He shrugs and looks back out the window, his hands still buried deep in his pockets. "I'll be right behind."

"Thank you." the man turns and hurries off down the stairs.

Sherlock waits until he has reached the front door, then leaps into the air and clenches his fists triumphantly before jumping around the room shouting in glee. "Brilliant!" I jump slightly in surprise and stare at the man who's virtually delighted about someone's death. "Yes! Ah, four serial suicides, and now a note! Oh, it's Christmas!" My mouth falls open as I watch him pick up his scarf and coat as he heads for the kitchen. "Mrs. Hudson, I'll be late. Might need some food."

"I'm your landlady, dear," she reminds him. "not your housekeeper."

He ignores her. "Something cold will do. John, have a cup of tea, make yourself at home. Don't wait up and get that American out of our flat!" Grabbing a small leather pouch from the kitchen table, he opens the kitchen door and disappears from view.

I shake my head and stare at that man in confusion. "He…is….bonkers!"