[Comprehensive] 221B's dead house girl

Back then, when Connie was a sophomore in Greater China, the greatest pleasure and pain in life at that time was doing nothing all day long.So brain-burning dramas became her best time to spend, and detective Sherlock was one of them. Fortunately, she still regarded Juanfu as a male god at that time.

Today is not what it used to be, she actually met the original male god, still a younger version!

Although I didn't recognize it at first.

Forget it, the hero does not mention the bravery of the past.

On the second day, the moving company transported Mr. Holmes' belongings to the door of 221B.

The brand-new truck looked much cleaner than Mr. Holmes's, but that still didn't stop Connie from being stunned.

More than a dozen boxes of materials larger than hers were carried up to the second floor by the husband who drove them one by one. From one or two open boxes, some old materials could be seen. The large string of characters made my eyes dizzy.

"Sir, do you need help?" The gentleman driving the car has moved back and forth a dozen times, but there are only half of the things in the car.

"Oh, thank you very much, but this is my job. If you don't mind, can you give me a cup of tea?" The gentleman driving saw that this was a thin and fair little girl. Of course, it was impossible for her to do this heavy work, but the kid He was so moved by his enthusiasm.

"Of course, black tea is okay?"

"can."

So Connie ran into the kitchen to make a cup of black tea and gave it to the moving man. In addition, it took less than 10 minutes to boil the water, and the things in the car had already been moved.When the last box came in, Connie glanced over and almost dropped the teapot with water on the floor.

A box of Apple notebooks, Mr. Holmes is indeed a rich man...

That night, Mr. Holmes moved into the apartment.It is worth mentioning that all the woolen coats that came with him.Although she couldn't see the brand, the ten identical coats were enough to amaze her.Not to mention that Mr. Holmes is still wearing one.

All that was left was five black suits and twenty identical white shirts and...

"Mr. Holmes, do you need my help?" Connie asked considerately. Mr. Holmes, who had long hands and feet, looked a little embarrassed at this moment.

"Sherlock. Box outside the door, thanks." Not at all polite.

"Yes. Mr. Sherlock. *^_^*" Finally, Connie climbed up to the second floor with a suitcase that was about the same height as hers.

And Sherlock, who stuffed his clothes into the cabinet in twos and twos, was already standing by the window playing the violin.

The sound of the piano is melodious.

Panting like a dog, Connie glanced at the messy room, and then at the famous detective who was immersed in the palace of art, and she suddenly felt quite enlightened.

If an ordinary person played the violin in such a busy way just after moving, she would probably raise her head to the sky and scream, is this person crazy?

I don't know why it looks very normal on Sherlock Holmes...

"Have you had breakfast, sir? I'm about to make breakfast. Fu...Mr. Sherlock, would you like some too?" It seems that the current Sherlock is much more withdrawn than the three-dimensional one, and Connie doesn't dare to say too much. But the worship of the great god still unconsciously affected her attitude towards Sherlock.

"Coffee, two pieces of candy." Well, thank you is gone.

"Yes!" Connie smiled happily, and ran downstairs to make coffee.

Said—it seems that Mr. Sherlock is still easy to get along with!

Although a little cold, but a genius is always lonely, she can understand that~

Connie, who thought Sherlock agreed to the breakfast invitation, carefully brewed coffee and sent it upstairs, and then began to make breakfast.

And Sherlock, who was immersed in the palace of art, directly ignored Connie. Although she was a little puzzled by her joy that was so obvious that it could overflow, he had always had no interest in studying creatures like children. Although The Connie adopted by Mrs. Hudson seems to be more mature and sensible than ordinary children, and she will not be like those boring people all day long clamoring for clothes and snacks. It is always more comfortable...

The most important thing is that she never thinks or nags, so she doesn't interfere with his thinking, which makes him especially satisfied.

Connie, who was making coffee downstairs, didn't know what kind of first impression Mr. Sherlock, the new tenant and learning genius, defined her—never thinking about it—enough to make her add a big drink to her coffee. Spoon salt and soy sauce too.

"Mr. Sherlock, your coffee." Connie brought the coffee into the room with a bright smile.At this time, Sherlock was still playing the violin ecstatically, and Connie pushed the door in without stopping him, as if there was no living thing in the room except him.

Connie, who knew a bit of Sherlock's character, touched her nose, and left the room with the tray without hesitation, and closed the door, so that the young Mr. Holmes could enjoy his music time.

Tapping down the stairs, she started what she had to do every day—fried eggs.

Sherlock in the room stopped his right hand playing the violin when Connie reached the last step of the stairs, and took the coffee.

Smell it, it seems that the aroma is not bad.I hope the coffee made by this little girl can have half the aroma...

After taking a sip, the heat that came out engulfed the light... well, it was worthy of the name.

After taking another sip of coffee, he continued to play the violin, dividing his mind into two parts, one part was doing sophisticated thinking, and the other part lamented the boredom of life.

London is so peaceful, which is different from what he expected before coming here. Sure enough, what Mycroft said were all high-sounding lies. Why England needs him is obviously because of his own bad taste... However, the days It's really boring...

Connie is obviously in a good mood, humming a little tune while frying eggs and toasting toast. Today she is going to make a sandwich. She bought some vegetables and salad dressing yesterday. Mrs. Hudson likes to eat salad, so she often Do it, I just bought fresh vegetables yesterday, and now I have made a full pot, and I am going to take it to the master later to try it out.

I have to say, even if Sherlock is in the show, it might be a completely different world.But as long as it is a name, it is enough to make her feel familiar, not to mention that his appearance is very similar, all of which give her a little empathy.

On the contrary, Mrs. Hudson looks very different from the one in the play, but even if she looks similar, she may not recognize it at the beginning...

Hey, there can be such a coincidence in this foreign country, and it can be regarded as some consolation for living in his country. At least a part of her "past" has appeared in the present, so that she won't think that she is daydreaming alone. Ah……

After the eggs and bacon were fried, she took out the baked toast, stacked three thick layers, and then cut it in half, so that a delicious sandwich was ready.After pouring the milk and getting Mrs. Hudson's portion ready, she took the tray to the second floor for breakfast.

"Mr. Sherlock?" She knocked politely first.

There was no answer from the door.

"Mr. Sherlock, may I come in?"

"..." There was still no response. Connie felt a little strange, but she pushed open the door anyway, and she was greeted by Sherlock sitting on the sofa in a bathrobe and staring at her.

(⊙o⊙)?

Oh, Mr. Sherlock was probably staring at the door.Connie thought so.

She carried the tray to the coffee table on the sofa tray, put away the messy newspapers, and put the breakfast on it.

"Mr. Sherlock, this is breakfast..." Sure enough, his eyes were still staring at the door.

Connie glanced curiously, is there anything so beautiful outside the door?

He glanced again, but still saw nothing.

"What's the matter with you?" Sherlock seemed to have just recovered and saw Connie who was close at hand.asked with raised eyebrows.

"Uh... I'll bring you breakfast..." She pointed to the steaming sandwiches and milk on the coffee table.

Sherlock looked at the breakfast, then at her, frowning slightly.

Connie thought he didn't like it, so she was a little embarrassed: "I don't know what Mr. Sherlock likes to eat, so I made a sandwich. Mrs. Hudson said it was delicious. You can try it..." Damn, standing In front of the Great God is really Alexander...

"Thank you." He seemed hesitant, but he still picked up the sandwich and took a bite, but the milk didn't move.However, the revealed eyes were not dissatisfied, but not satisfied either.

But anyway, Connie was relieved.After all, the master is the rich second generation of England, so it's normal to be picky, so she took the tray and exited the room.

Sherlock finished the sandwich in two or three bites, feeling warm in his stomach, with a strange feeling.He has no habit of eating breakfast, and has been like this since he was a child.

Looking at the steaming milk and the cold coffee in the cup again, he picked up the milk and took a sip.

After a while, he spit it back into the cup.

Sure enough, milk is not good to drink...

Downstairs, after Connie, who didn't know that Mr. Sherlock hated milk so much, delivered breakfast to Mrs. Hudson, she sat at the dining table and ate breakfast by herself. Although there was only one person, she was still used to sitting on the table Eating, but as soon as she sat down with the milk poured for herself, the house shook for a while, and the deafening roar made her instantly think that she would be submerged in dust in the next second.

God!earthquake?

"Oh my God, is this an earthquake? What happened!" A moment later, Mrs. Hudson, who was disheveled and disheveled, rushed out, her curly red hair was messed up, and her sleeves were still stained with milk. The stain, obviously got freaked out while drinking the milk, just washed right out.

But it was only five or six seconds, after the subconscious shock passed, calm was restored.It seemed that the shaking and roaring just now were just an illusion.

It's just not waiting for the two of them to realize what happened.The new tenant on the second floor, Mr. Sherlock, had already appeared at the door on the first floor in all his clothes.

(⊙o⊙) Oh my gosh!When did Mr. Sherlock put on his suit and woolen coat? ——Connie, who just exited the room on the second floor 30 seconds ago, said that Mr. Sherlock was still wearing a bathrobe and cotton slippers at that time!

"Connie, thank you for your breakfast, but I'm going out now, it looks like there will be a good game today..." The great god's mood seemed to be up by several octaves.

To describe it in the words of their hometown, they are jumping for joy!

"Mr. Sherlock, did something happen?" Although she didn't know what it was, Connie must and was sure that it had something to do with the shaking and roaring of the house just now, and that was why Sherlock was happy.

"Oh. According to my guess, it should be that the nearby subway exploded. Judging from the scope and extent of the explosion, the explosion this time should not be small. At this point in time... In summary, it must be related to a terrorist attack." The series of analyzes flew down three thousand feet, and the two of them were dizzy. Connie barely understood it—oh, there was an explosion, and Sherlock had something to play with.

Mrs. Hudson was directly frightened by the words "terrorist attack" and fainted. Fortunately, Connie helped her in time.

"Then, Mr. Sherlock, I wish you a pleasant day. Goodbye." She looked up and said goodbye with a smile, and helped Mrs. Hudson into the house.

Sherlock raised his eyebrows, then closed the door excitedly, and rushed towards the target location.