Chapter Text
Somehow, you had managed to bag a flat in Baker Street, 221c to be precise. It was the 1st of September and today you were moving out of your safe and secure parents house and into the real world. From this day onward, you would be studying (choose a university degree) at the university of Oxford. It was astounding to you, you'd no clue of how you gained a place at this renowned establishment, but you weren't going to take it for granted. Ever since you were in high school, you knew that you wanted to go to university and strove hard for that goal for the next seven years of your life. Next thing you realised, you were in Year 13 and readying yourself for university life. For many hours, you had applied for many unis's across the UK, all of them remarkably accepting you, but you dared to apply for Oxford seeing if they'd accept you. Which, to your surprise, did. Even though you were considered a genius by all those around her, you definitely didn't act like one, by preferring to live outside of uni instead of in halls. You were sure you'd be surrounded by snobs, so you took initiative to solve your problem by finding cheap flats to rent in the enormous city of London. For a laugh, you researched apartments available in Baker Street, inspired the BBC program Sherlock, but to your shock, an advertisement for 221c was available at £300 per month:
"221c Baker Street: £300pm
One bedroom flat with kitchen and bathroom and roof garden
Top floor above 221b
Neighbours are friendly
Student-friendly
Please contact M. Hudson on 020221570987 for more details"
Immediately you rang the number up and M. Hudson answered. With the help of her parents and your saved money, you had rented the place from September onward.
It was early morning and you were standing outside 221 Baker Street, whilst your parents were busy shuffling around carrying your bags from the car and placing them opposite the shiny, black door. You said a swift goodbye to them, carrying your luggage and knocking on the door. What appeared to be the landlady opened the door, uttering 'Hellos', rushing to help you with your bags inside. But you stood there frozen, standing in the cold, holding your laptop case and handbag, unaware that Mrs Hudson had already entered inside. You were shell-shocked to find the landlady from Sherlock BBC was actually your landlady. What was the hell going on? Why is Una Stubbs, my landlady? You realised that you were, rudely, ignoring her requests to come inside and rushed inside, apologising. It seemed that whilst you were standing out in the cold in awe, your bags had been generously been taken up to your flat. Mrs Hudson sat you down and made you a cup of tea. The two of you engaged in small talk:
"Nice to meet you, Y/N, you'll definitely like it here. Once you get used to your neighbours, I'm sure you'll be fine. So, what are studying at university?"
" (chosen university degree", you muttered absently
You were too busy trying to figure out what was going on. How could it be that Mrs Hudson was sitting right in front of you from the fictional BBC show Sherlock?. After the small chat, she left you to settle in and unpack your belongings. You climbed the stairs to your apartment, studying and observing every inch of the flat, noting that in every detail was exactly identical to the set of Sherlock; the dusty wooden stairs, the iconic wallpaper and the familiar entrance to 221b which was closed.
An hour later, you were all settled into your new flat and decided to give your parents a call to reassure them that you were fine. Afterwards, you had nothing to do since you started your uni course next week. Sitting on your leather couch, you mind fell into a deep dark whole, contemplating your sanity. You had to be insane otherwise it was impossible that Mrs Hudson was downstairs and you were sitting in the flat above Sherlock and John's. You were certain that if you saw either Sherlock or John that you would scream or have a mental breakdown. You had the proof that it was a show since you had the box set, formerly packed in your suitcase which now sat nicely on your bedside table. Eagerly, you grabbed your Mac book and researched Sherlock on Google but nothing came up. Consequently, you searched for the cast of Sherlock but there were zero results. What the fuck? Now you were seriously panicked. How could it be non-existent yet you had a box set?
The unexpected sharp thud of a knock on the door startled Y/N out of her daydream, forgetting about your previous dilemma you unlocked the door to find the picturesque, gorgeous and handsome face of Mr Sherlock Holmes smiling at you...