The Idea: Well, this idea came to me as I was actually prank calling my brother on my mom's cell. I said something about being Sherlock Holmes and my mom said, "Sherlock isn't a girl. If he was, his name would have to be Sherla or something!" And so, this story was born.

Notes: The story won't follow the exact lines because, well you know, I want to mix it up a bit. Also, the characters may be a bit out of character, but they're still them. One last thing, the whole story will be told as if it is a movie, so, to get the full effect of it, you may want to read it while the certain theme song (which will be written in bold) is playing.

Sorry: My internet was down during the weekend for some apparent reason…so sorry!

Please let me introduce to you a love story with a sprinkle of action:

Shannon Holmes

(I do not own Sherlock Holmes…obviously)

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It was dark when they finally arrived at the crime scene. The cab stopped and Shannon rushed out of the cab, John right behind her.

"Did I get anything wrong," Shannon asked, slipping on her gloves.

John looked at her and thought. "Harry and me don't get on, never have," he began. "Clara and Harry split up three months ago. They're getting a divorce. Harry is a drinker."

"Spot on then," Shannon said, grinning as they approached the scene of the crime. "I didn't expect to be right about everything."

There was a moment of silence. "Harry's short for Harriet," John said.

Shannon stopped walking as John continued on, quite pleased with himself. "Harry's your sister," Shannon muttered, John looking back at her.

"Look, what exactly am I supposed to be doing here," John asked, rolling his eyes a bit.

"Sister," Shannon said frustrated, then kept walking on.

"No," John said, trying to catch up," seriously, what am I doing here?"

"There's always something," she grumbled as they approached Sergeant Donovan.

"Hello Freak," Sergeant Donovan greeted, her heels clacking.

Shannon ignored her. "I'm here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade," she said, looking at the building.

"Why," Donovan asked.

Shannon looked at her sarcastically. "I was invited," she said a matter of a fact.

"Why," Donovan asked a bit cockier.

"I think he wants me to take a look," Shannon responded, raising an eyebrow.

Donovan scoffed and looked Shannon in the eyes. "Well, you know what I think, don't you?"

"Always, Sally," she said, smiling and going underneath the police tape. Then, Shannon smelled something and looked up at Donovan, eyebrows squeezed together. "Even know you didn't make it home last night."

Donovan looked away from her and to John as Shannon tried to lift up the tape. "Uh, who's this?"

"Colleague of mine," Shannon said, still looking at Donovan, but this time with a glare. "Dr. Watson." She then turned to Watson. "Dr. Watson, Sergeant Sally Donovan. Old friend."

Donovan raised her eyebrows. "A colleague? How do you get a colleague?" She looked at John. "What, did she follow you home?"

John sighed. "Would it be better if I just waited…"

"No," Shannon said, lifting up the tape and looking the other way.

"Freak's here," Sally said into her walkie talkie as John went under the tape, "Bringing her in."

Shannon followed Sally to the front door, but stopped to look around, deducing everything that she could. John simply kept walking, ignoring what she was doing, but quite amazed inside.

Shannon did a three sixty spin until she ended up in front of a man dressed in blue. "Ah, Anderson," she breathed out, sighing. "Here we are again."

Anderson took off his gloves and looked at Shannon sternly. "It's a crime scene," he began. "I don't want it contaminated. Are we clear on that?"

"Quite clear," she said, frowning a bit, but slightly amused. John looked at the two, a bit worried. "And is your wife away for long?"

"Oh, don't pretend you worked that out," Anderson said, quite bored. "Somebody told you that."

Shannon scoffed. "You're deodorant told me that."

"My deodorant," Anderson asked, frowning.

"It's for men," Shannon said, smiling.

"Well, of course it's for men," he argued, his eye brows creasing more and more. "I'm wearing it!"

Shannon looked at Donovan, who was standing just a few feet away from them. "So is Sergeant Donovan," she simply said. She then sniffed the air, causing Anderson to turn around and John to hold in his chuckles. "Ooh, I think it just vaporized. May I go in?"

Anderson turned back to Shannon. "Now, look, whatever you're trying to imply…"

"I'm not implying anything," Shannon interrupted; shaking her head slowly and giggling a bit, which John thought was quite cute. "I'm sure Sally came around for a nice little chat," she continued, walking past Anderson, John right behind her," and just happened to stay over." She then swiftly turned around. "And I assume she scrubbed your floors, going by the state of her knees." She looked at Donovan's knees briefly, then turned around and left.

Donovan and Anderson looked at each other worriedly.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"You should wear one of these," Shannon told John, pointing to the blue scrubs.

"Who's this," Lestrade asked as Shannon picked up some gloves.

"He's with me," she said, trying to tug her gloves on.

Lestrade looked at Shannon, still trying to put on his scrubs. "But, who is he?"

"I said he's with me," Shannon said, sternly. She and Lestrade had a short glaring contest.

"Aren't you going to put one on," John asked, looking at Shannon.

Shannon simply stared at him until John had to look away. "So, where are we," Shannon asked.

"Upstairs," Lestrade said, slipping on his own gloves, leaving John wondering what the heck he was doing here and if he would ever get to talk to Shannon alone again.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Sorry for the short chapter, but I'm super busy and I only quickly typed this up because I couldn't get a chance to update on Friday because of internet connections. Hope you enjoyed this though!