Hey guys so this is my first ever fanfiction. I wanted to write one for some time but I didn't know where to start. I just finished watching Sherlock the other day and I absolutely fell in love with the show. So I decided to do a crossover between Sherlock and Phan (the 2 things I love). I hope you guys like it. I'll try to write more chapters after. But without further ado, here's the story.

Phil POV:

"Phil! Phil Lester!"

I turn my back and see someone walking towards me and smiling.

"Kendall. Chris Kendall. We went to college together."

"Yes, sorry, yes, Chris." I stutter.

I take his hand and firmly shook it.

"Hello, hi."

He gestures to himself.

"Yeah, I know. I got old!"

"No! No" I say trying to convince him.

"So I heard you were abroad somewhere, getting shot at. What happened?"

"Oh, um my leg got shot" I say awkwardly.

"So Wanna do it over coffee?" he asks.

"Umm sure."

A little later we sat on the park bench in silence.

"Ehmm so are you still teaching, then?" I ask breaking the silence

"Yeah. Haha Bright young things, like we used to be. God, I hate them!"

We both laugh.

"So Phil what about you? Just staying in town, 'til you get yourself sorted?"

"I can't afford London on an Army pension. Just renting a small flat y'know."

"Couldn't Frankie help?" he asks.

"Yeah, like that's gonna happen!" I say sarcastically.

"Umm I dunno, get a flatshare or something?"

"Come on who'd want me for a flatmate?"

I hear Chris chuckle.

"What?"

"Well, you're the second person to say that to me today."

"Who was the first?"

Dan POV:

I unzip the body bag and sniff the corps.

"How fresh?" I ask.

My pathologist PJ walks in.

"Just in. Sixty-seven. He used to work here. I knew him. He was nice."he says.

I zip the bag up again. I straighten up, turns to him and smiles falsely.

"Fine. We'll start with the riding crop." I say.

I whip the body like a maniac for a few moments, and clean up.

"So, bad day?" He says jokingly

I ignore him and got out my notebook and start writing observations in it.

"I need to know what bruises form in the next twenty minutes. Text me." I say.

"Listen, I was wondering..maybe later, when you're finished ..."

I close my notebook and glance at him for a few seconds.

"Are you wearing cologne?" I ask as I sniff him.

"Umm I, er...I refreshed it a bit." he stutters.

"Oh. Sorry, you were saying?"

"I was wondering if you'd like to have coffee?" He ask.

I put my notebook away.

"Black, two sugars, please. I'll be upstairs." I say

I walk away as he responds with okay.

Phil POV:

I follow Chris inside his lab. I see a man standing there working on something. He's really tall, he has dark brown hair. Kind of attractive to be honest.

I limp into the lab and looked at all the equipment.

"Chris, can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine." I hear him say.

"And what's wrong with the landline?" Chris asks.

"I prefer to text."

"Sorry. It's in my coat." Chris says.

I fish in my back pocket and take out my phone.

"Er, here. Use mine." I offered.

"Oh. Thank you." The man says.

"He's an old friend of mine, Phil Lester."

The man reaches out his hand and take is almost willingly.

"So Phil, Afghanistan or Iraq?"" The man asks.

I frown. I look at Chris and he smiles knowingly.

"Erm S-Sorry?" I stutter"

"Which was it – Afghanistan or Iraq?"

"Umm Afghanistan. Sorry, how did you know ...?"

I got cut off by a man walking in holding 2 cups of coffee

Dan POV:

"Ah, Pj, coffee. Thank you."

I reach for the coffee and Pj walks out.

"So Phil, How do you feel about the violin?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I play the violin when I'm thinking. Sometimes I don't talk for days on end. Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other."

"Oh, you ... you told him about me?" I hear him whisper to Chris.

"Not a word." Chris says back.

"Then who said anything about flatmates?" He says.

"I did. Told Chris this morning that I must be a difficult man to find a flatmate for. Now here he

is just after lunch with an old friend, clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan. Wasn't a difficult guess."

"How did you know about Afghanistan?" Phil asks.

I ignore his question and put on my coat.

"Got my eye on a nice little place in central London. Together we ought to be able to afford it."

We'll meet there tomorrow evening; seven o'clock. Sorry – gotta dash. I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary." I say.

I walk towards the door when Phil mentions something.

"Sorry- did you say something?"

"Is that it?" Phil asks

"Is that it what?"

"We've only just met and we're gonna go and look at a flat?"

"Is there a problem?" I ask.

"We don't know a thing about each other. I don't even know where we're meeting; I

don't even know your name." Phil says.

"I know you're an Army doctor and you've been invalided home from Afghanistan. I know

you've got a sister who's worried about you but you won't go to her for help because you

don't approve of her – possibly because she's an alcoholic; more likely because she recently

walked out on her husband. And I know that your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic –

quite correctly, I'm afraid."

I stand there for a moment as he looks at me in awe. I turn around and walk to the door again. I open it and took a step, but I lean back into the room again.

"The name's Dan Howell and the address is 221B Baker Street. See you there.

I wink at Phil and turn over to Chris who is just sitting there smiling.

"Afternoon." I say.

Phil POV:

"Is he always like that?"

"Yup" popping the p

"He's always like that."