"I'll be out for lunch!" The Canadian female looked at Sherlock as she packed her things quickly for she only had a short break.

"Where are you going? A crime can arise in any second and we must be ready for it." He explained.

"Well, I can't solve a case on an empty stomach, I'm no robot, Sherlock." She pursed her lips together and gave a nod.

"Fine then, get me some coffee, or tea, you know; just grab me a drink." He sighed.

"Alright bye."

"Oh and answer your phone." Madeline was halfway out the door when the man spoke again.

"Yes, father." She rolled her eyes as she sighed loudly. It was a tease, but he was still a bit annoying. 'Do this' or 'do that', he always bossed her around, but as the good friend she was; she obeyed his commands.

The blonde left the New Scotland Yard and headed for her favourite cafe in this dreaded city, she loved London but it could be quite bleak on occasion, like today for example.

"May I please have two French Vanillas and a number two combo? Thank you." She asked.

Said combo contained a chicken sandwich and a side dish of chilli. She wasn't a fan of chilli until she had arrived in London and stumbled upon this store. Although the shop was rather full, she was able to obtain a seat for two.

"Is anyone sitting here?" Madeline looked up from her food to meet a tall man with messy auburn locks.

"No." She shook her head lightly.

"Do you mind?"

Thinking he wished to take the chair to sit at another table, Madeline smiled. "No, not at all."

"Alright, thanks." He grinned back at her, allowing her to see his pearly whites. Afterwards, he sat down in front of her, in all honesty leaving her shocked.

"I-I"

"Is something wrong?" He lifted an eyebrow as he inquired.

"I just t-thought that y-you..."

"That I?" He pressured forward, letting his emerald eyes pierce into her indigo ones.

"N-never mind." She whispered, looking back down at her food.

"If you say so." He shrugged sipping from his expresso.

They did not exchange words for a long while until the male with the piercing on his left ear decided to speak. "I doubt you're going to drink those two," he gears turned to the two coffees, "who's the other one going to?"

"A-a friend." The Canadian managed to stutter.

"A friend?"

"Yes a friend." She nodded.

Many days thereafter she had seen him and they had conversed a couple of times inside the cafe.

"So does this foreign beauty have a name?" He referred to her, the day after they met.

Madeline blushed softly and bit the inside of her bottom lip, looking back up at him. "P-pardon me?" Her stuttering had returned once more and if Sherlock was to hear, he would possibly scold her.

"Your name; what's you name?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Well... Madeline, a-and yours?" Her voice seemed so frail and sweet that it made him smile.

"Allistor, at your service, my lady." He winked at her and they had continued the talk from there.

After a couple of days they had become friends, and would occasionally talk. They even exchanged numbers in order to communicate when they did not see one another.

The Scottish man was nice and rather handsome, but that was a minor detail for he never cared much for his appearance, of which clearly proved the he could be more handsome than he already was if he put his mind to it.

"So, I've noticed -since the first day really- that you have found someone that clearly makes you go out for lunch every single day," the black haired man began, "and in guessing you like him."

"I am really beginning to think you might just be stalking me." Madeline sighed.

"Or he might be stalking you."

"Sherlock, please I I find a new friend, do not insult them."

"If I could, I would, but I don't really care for people's wishes." The male looked up at the ceiling for he was laying back on his couch.

"Well, either way, please show some respect. He's a good man, and maybe, if you would not be so dense, I could introduce you to him."

"No, thank you." He sighed.

"Too bad, I already invited him over, Sherlock, and I hate how you never try to at least be nice, please do not do anything rash." Madeline mumbled for she was still rather shy and did not want to push her limits with the Englishman.

"Then I'll gladly leave." He stood from the couch.

"No, because he is coming to meet you, not to meet with me." She retorted and grabbed his wrist before he could move to grab his coat.

Sherlock gave a grunt as he rolled his eyes. "Fine, but if I speak out of turn, you cannot get mad."

"I just stated to not do anything rash and that includes speaking out of turn." She let go of his wrist and allowed him to walk away to his room, where he would wait for the man to come around.

Of course, Madeline had commenced with the cleaning of the kitchen, for it was a huge mess at the moment. She collected Sherlock's experiments and tried to make the kitchen as clean as possible, which was hard because that meant she needed to clean the refrigerator and it seemed like she didn't have much time.

By the time the bell had rung, Madeline had the kitchen -almost -spotless and the living room was well maintained as well, plus when Sherlock emerged from his room, he was wearing his everyday occasional suit, but he had actually styled his hair in a somewhat slicked back motion that he seemed to be too perfect for the occasion.

"Sherlock." Madeline smiled. "For once in your life you actually tried." She was grateful he did so because it, not only made him look handsome, but it made him seem presentable.

"He seems important." Sherlock sighed. "Are you not going to open it?" He referred to the door when the bell rang again.

Madeline gasped and nodded. "Right." She mumbled under her breath.

As she hurried to the door, she felt happy that she had changed into a simple red dress before she began cleaning. Her hair was the only thing she really had to worry about because she had had it up in a messy bun, but when it was released it seem to fall perfectly around her face -for once in the entirety of her existence.

"Allistor, come on in." She smiled at the man, who seemed to wear simple enough clothes, a dress shirt and dark dress pants. Plus, she had never specified what sort of dinner they would be having.