Chapter One: The Baker

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A bell was set off with a soft ding as a certain doctor made his way into Izzy's Cakes. Seeing his favorite bakery open so late as he walked by, made John Watson turn around and enter cautiously

"Um...hello?" he called out, taking notice of the luggage by the counter.

After hearing various disgruntled noises and what sounded like a clumsy mess making its way to the front of the shop, John knew exactly who to expect. The shop owner herself popped her head around the corner, frizzy strands of hair escaping from her loose ponytail.

"You're back!" exclaimed John excitedly.

"John! Hi! Oh I'm sorry I only got here a couple hours ago."

"Oh it's alright, just c'mere so I can greet you properly will ya." He smiled brightly at his friend with his arms reaching toward her. They embraced in a tight hug, not having seen each other in three months. Isabella had been mentoring under a well known pastry chef in the US.

"Wanna try some amazing cake?" Bella wiggled her eyebrows at her friend.

"Already trying to fatten me up? Why am I not surprised?"

She grinned and began dragging him to the back towards a warm, sweet scent.

"So what have you been up to John?" she asked curiously.

"I don't think you'd believe me." He responded with a smirk.

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"I can't believe it. But how do you think he did it? And then gone for three years? That's bloody incredible isn't it?"

"I'm not entirely sure but I was angry with that wanker when I first saw him, and he had the nerve to make fun of my mustache!" He gave her a playful glare when Isabella stifled a laugh, not that it was the first time the woman had laughed at his facial hair. She made fun of his mustache, he made fun of her always flour covered attire.

They had been sitting down over tea and fluffy cake, Isabella listening attentively to the short man's adventures. She couldn't believe all that he had done in the short three months she was gone.

Almost two years before then was when they first met. They had become the greatest of friends, which was good because John had been struggling with having to deal with his best friend's death. He was in the worst of shapes when she first saw him. John would walk by the bakery every Sunday in the late afternoon, when there weren't many customers. She saw him often, never knowing where he was going or why he walked with his head hanging low. When he hadn't turn up one day at his regular time, she worried and had walked outside. Seeing as he wasn't late and walking down the block, she hurriedly went in the direction of where he would come from. She kept thinking about the worst case scenario but all thoughts vanished when she saw him at a flower stand. As he began walking her way, she decided she would ask him if he would join her for a cup of tea. She never really knew why he agreed but she thought maybe it was for the same reason he had bought the flowers.

After that, John came to the bakery almost every day. They were like brother and sister and inseparable though not like his relationship with Sherlock. But she was someone who would work up his nerves and she felt the same way.

He was in the middle of telling Isabella, how his roommate had been taking apart something big underground, when a tall figure walked in.

"John, what in the world has taken you so bloody long? Doesn't matter, let's go! Lestrade called, there's been a murder!"

Isabella looked at the man who she recognized as Sherlock Holmes from all the things she knew from before she left. Smiling up at him, her expression was returned with a confused face that quickly turned to a focused one. From what she knew, she was finally going to be deduced by the great detective though it was very unnerving, she was glad she'd seen it coming. He gave her that look and began darting his eyes in every direction.

"It couldn't be more obvious that you're a clumsy baker and so does John with all that flour." John rolled his eyes and gave Isabella a small smile.

Sherlock then continued, "You're older than you look, but you're in your late 20's and single. There was a boyfriend but you've broken up most likely for the reason for your differences, perhaps it was the sweets? You own this place and have for the past two years, took you a lot of hard work to get it too. But why? You come from a wealthy family but probably didn't approve of you making cupcakes and what not, so you moved here from the U.S. You are the eldest of two no three and you don't get along with any of them. It appears you would be the odd one out, how else could you have relocated to a different country. You're smart, should be, since you've been privately tutored and spend a lot of your time reading when you're not making a mess."

He looked down at her clothes with a raised eyebrow and waiting for the usual, "How did you know all that?" But he didn't because an evil scheme came to Isabella's mind. With one glance at John, she talked almost as fast as Sherlock had and spit out all she knew about him that John had told her. From his age to his relationship status and his insane cases. She even threw in how he had a dislike for an older sibling and how he had met John all that time ago. He looked at her with a complete look of shock on his face but as soon as it had appeared, it had vanished.

"Oh and you've just come back from a sort of trip, not a very nice one it seems like. Sorry it's just that I do this thing where I deduce people, like you just did."

She smiled at how he still seemed completely baffled though he tried his very best to hide it.

Then remembering John was there and had previously been discussing with the strange woman he said, "Well surely John has told you all of that information on me. It couldn't be more obvious you two are familiar with each other. Perhaps you've read his blog or have watched the news like a normal person."

"I haven't told her a thing, Sherlock and the telly couldn't have known all of that. We have just gotten along very well and you did say she was intelligent. Is it possible that she is just like you?!" John showed a surprised look, following Isabella's lead.

For what seemed like hours, Sherlock stood there, stunned and at a loss for words. The silence was broken from the laughing of John and Isabella who couldn't contain it any longer.

"Sorry, Mr.Holmes, I really couldn't help it." She said, wiping away the tears that had shed.

"I'd say you deserved it, Sherlock." John pointing an accusing finger is the taller man's direction.

"Who are you?" he asked, ignoring John's comment and not looking very amused.

"I'm Isabella Thornfield, pleasure to meet you!" She smiled up to the taller man.

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