A/N: Exams are done! College is out! Summer's here (if rainy)! My nephew's new baby brother has been born at last! And I got the first chapter of my second Sherlene Holmes' Story finished!

I'm not over happy with it though, due to the fact I had lost some of my inpiration due to all the excitment life's thrown at me (and still is). Yet somehow I got it done and I hope it's good enough despite how weak it seems to me.

This is my written verison of the fourth episode of season two Granada Television's Sherlock Holmes, which aired on 9/15/1985. Due to the content of a hanging suicide/murder this is episode (and thus my story) must be view with discretion. If you aren't comfortable with the concept of hanging, please do not read the scene coming up in a couple of chapters. I'll post a Warning Sign for everyone to see where the scene with the hanged man is coming up.

Also, there's a poll on my profile on what story/episode I should do next. But if there isn't one to anyone likling chose "Other?" and you can send any recommandations on episode I should do for my 3rd Sherlene Holmes.

Disclaimer: I own nothing expect the idea and Sherlene. This has been made purly for entertainment.

That being said, enjoy! And don't forget to review

The Resident Patient



Tap tap tap.

Tap. Tap.

Tap tap tap tap.

Tap tap tap.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap.


For the past several minutes, Sherlene Holmes had been drumming the fingers of her left hand against the wood polished arm of the barber chair she was occupying as she waited for the barber man to finish up with Watson's monthly haircut.

Watson had been astonished when the woman detective came into the small barbershop that was located only a down the street away from 221B. Due to barbershops' unmentionable reputation*, Sherlene hardly ever stepped into the domain of one. To see her inside a place where even the Great Women Detective dared not enter unless it was strictly necessary to do so, was a great amazement to Watson, causing him to wonder what made her dare enter this private forbidden domain.

But instead of asking her outright, Watson decided this would be a perfect opportunity to practice his deduction skills on her. It had been a while since he last tried to do "the trick" on her and he was determined to one day finally get it right.

"You mustn't take it so badly, Holmes."

Immediately, the drumming fingers stopped and Sherlene's eyes opened, her face scrunching up a bit to show her puzzlement. She turned her head to look at her friend and with a baffled tone asked, "What?"

"Well, I know it's inconvenient…" Watson continued, "But you really mustn't let it affect you like this?"

The confusion grew in Sherlene's face and voice. "What ever do you mean?"

Watson turned his head slightly to give her a palpable look. He ignored the slight frown the barber man shot his way for moving but the man continue working nevertheless. "

You are sitting there," Watson began to explain his reached conclusion from watching her intently for several minutes. He still needed much practice on getting a deduction as quick as Sherlene did, "Boiling with indignation because you have been forced to leave the warmth and comfort of 221B by the irate of Mrs. Hudson's spring cleaning."

Confusion smoothly slipped away from Sherlene's face as she shifted to get more comfortable sitting in the uncomfortable barber chair. Folding her hands almost lady-like on her lap, a slight raise in the corner of Sherlene's mouth gave way to her hidden amusement of the situation as she asked, "My dear Watson how ever did you deduce that?"

Watson grinned widely in victory. By the way Sherlene was acting, Watson felt that he had finally gotten a hold of the deduction trick his friend seemed to know so well. "By simply applying your methods Holmes."


"You'll agree that you are not here for either a shave or a haircut."

"That is true. How did you know?"

"Because you invariably shave yourself and cut your hair by yourself."

For a second, the slight rise went a little higher. "Correct," Sherlene answered, her tone even

"And you left our rooms in some haste. You are either without your skirt, your gloves or your cane."

Sherlene's eyes glanced down, almost in amusement, towards her lap where her gloveless pale hands lay folded on her light gray trouser clad lap as though checking to confirm Watson's deduction.

"Go on," she said

"Well," Watson continued, "I know that Mrs. Hudson has been trying to complete her spring cleaning all day. Now…" He paused, shifting a little his chair to face Sherlene's direction a little better. "You have been sitting there frowning. Eyes tightly closed. Grinding your teeth. And all the time, your fingers have been drumming like pistons on the arm of that chair."

Sherlene could no longer hold back the smile

"So…" Watson finished his pride growing at Sherlene's actions, "Given all this evidence, even I cannot fail to deduced that you have quarreled with our good housekeeper…" Sherlene face fell. "…and sought refuge in the sanity of the barbershop, a place where I know even you would not enter unless under the most perilous of circumstances."

The doctor let out a victorious low chuckle which, if Sherlene allowed herself to admit, was a little eerie for him.**

"You cannot deny that am I right," he chuckled. He turned back into his original position in his chair, a smile of victory on his face

With hilarity now freely shining on her eyes, Sherlene let out a disappointed sigh. "Ah, Watson…you could not be further from the truth."

Watson's head snapped back into her direction in confusion, the smile replace with a perplexed frown.

Sherlene reached into the flap of her grey coat and pulled out an envelope. "I am here…" she explained opening the envelope "…to get our good barber's advice as to this specimen of hair found at the scene of the Bloody Mist adventure last Tuesday in Denford." She held up the little fold piece of paper containing the hair up from the envelope, showing it to Watson. The barber, having heard Sherlene, glanced at it but went back to work.

Watson looked at her disbelievingly. "Oh! Come along, Holmes!" he said, incredulous as Sherlene dropped the hair back in the envelope and slipped the envelope back into her coat "You're worried about something!"

"What you perceived as agitation was indeed the most…" Sherlene said calm and smoothly, turning her head to look back at the doctor with a look of pleasure on her face "…intense tranquil enjoyment."

Still seeing the rather funny disbelief confusion on the doctor's face, Sherlene decided to explain to her befuddled friend. "My eyes were closed because I was trying to recalled, as vividly as I could, the concert we attended last night."

It was true that they had attended a concert.

Musical concerts were one of the few things that Sherlene would willingly dress up to attend. They were also the only habit that Watson did not have to worry himself about with Sherlene's mental health when she was bored or tired. The last few cases had been long and challenging ones. Although Sherlene managed to solve them, she admitted she was feeling an extremely rare mental exhaustion from the long work. Upon hearing that admittance, Watson had worried that she was soon going to subject her magnificence brain the effects of the cocaine bottle once again. But his worries were put to rest that night for during their supper Sherlene had announced her desire to go to a symphony that was playing that night. And with that said, she hurried to get dress with Watson hastening to finish eating and get dressed into his own evening attire.

But that still did not account for that one other thing…

"You were grinding your teeth!" Watson told her

Sherlene gave a slight frown of displeasure as she explained, "That is because I made a slight error in my recollection of Yerkins' fingering his cadenza in the third movement of the Beethoven violin concerto…"

To exhibit what she was referring to, she began tapping the chair arm again, though this time in a blur rapid movement, causing the beats to blend together rather than the separate notes Sherlene created earlier with her slower taping movement. Now that Watson thought of it, as he listened to the beats, he did sort of recognize the blended beats sounding similar to the concerto Sherlene was referring to.

Turning away from his friend, Watson let out a disappointed sigh. Even after all these years, watching Sherlene and studying her methods, the trick was still frustratingly well out of his reach.

"Nevertheless," Sherlene spoke suddenly, breaking the small silence that had fallen between the two of them "…there is an element of truth in what you say."

"Ah!" Watson cheered, his face lighting up from his small bout of disappointment. So he had been right about something for once…even though he had no idea what it was.

Sherlene let out an embarrassed little laugh as Watson began that creepy low laugh of his.

Watson felt Sherlene slip her hand onto the inside of his elbow when they had at last stepped out of the barbershop. He heard her give a quiet sigh of relief of finally leaving the unwritten forbidden territory. The slight soft pink hue on the edge of her cheeks faded away as they began to walk the short way back to their shared rooms, though Sherlene did politely wave goodbye to the barber.

A parked carriage caught both the doctor and the woman's eye as they just stepped onto their neighbor's block. The carriage was rather extravagant compared to the normal carriages normal seen on the Backer Street. This carriage was rather shiny, making it well kept, and was pulled by two horses, meaning it came from someone with access to a lot of money. But what was interesting about this carriage was that it was parked outside of 221B…meaning a client had come to the house while Sherlene and Watson were out. Both the man and the lady paused in front of it and gave it their own studious looks.

"A doctor's," Watson said

"A general practitioner as I perceive," Sherlene said

"Not been long in practice or had much to do," Watson added

"Come to consult us, I fancy."

"Lucky we came back."

Sherlene gave his collarbone a slight slap before slipping her arm out of the crook of his elbow and heading toward the door of their home to meet the doctor awaiting them.

*The unmentionable reputation is the reason why 19th century women cut their own hair at home. If you want to know what it is that would keep Sherlene (and by extension, Mrs. Hudson) out, check out "The Art of Barbering Through the Ages" on Google and near the bottom, under 'Profession Declines'. *hides red face behind a pillow*

**It was! Who agrees with me?