Author’s Note: I understand that the set for the inside of 221B and the set for the exterior of 221B are two different locations, but for the sake of this story please imagine otherwise. Thank you!

You couldn’t believe it. You were standing in the streets of London itself. Winning the contest to see the set of Sherlock during the filming of series three had been a wonderful surprise, but the full gravity of where you were hadn’t hit you until just then. You were in London. You would finally meet the cast, something you have wanted to do since you first saw series one. Today was quite possibly the best day of your life.

 You had been driven from the hotel in a black-windowed sedan, and emerged outside the famed Baker Street address. You stood in front of the door, taking it in, and noticing that the crowd had already begun to gather around the set. A crew member opened the door and ushered you in, guiding you up the stairs. Benedict and Martin were not there yet, but you took the time to explore the Baker street abode. (With permission, of course).

There were cameras and their crews prepping in different areas of the living room of the flat, and people making sure the set looked exactly as it should, putting the props in their proper places. You were wondering whether or not it would be alright if you looked into the refrigerator, placing your hand on the handle when a voice startled you.

 “I wouldn’t look in there if you’re at all squeamish.”

 You spin around to see who had spoken (and if they would be removing you from the set because of your curiosity). But instead of a crew member, you find yourself face to face with Sherlock. Or rather, Benedict Cumberbatch.

 “Umm, err, I’m sorry,“ you say, stepping away from the fridge, mentally slapping yourself for your flustered reply. “My name’s (y/n), it’s an honor to meet you.” You hold out your hand, and he shakes it, his warm hand encasing yours.

 “It’s a pleasure to meet you, (y/n). I’m not quite sure how much of an ‘honor’ it is to meet myself, however.” He smiles pleasantly, alleviating your nervousness. “Are you enjoying yourself here in London? It must be different than what you’re used to in America.”

 “I haven’t been here very long, I just flew in last night, but so far it’s been amazing. The sights I saw on the way here alone made it totally worth the trip,” you reply, smiling sheepishly.

 “It’s wonderful to hear you’re enjoying it,” he says, returning your smile. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe we are going to begin shooting soon.”

 You nod, and he turns to enter the living area, greeting Martin and Amanda as they come in. A crew member leads you to where you need to stand to be out of the shot, and you watch as the final few shots on Baker Street are filmed. Sherlock was recovering from being shot by none other than Mary Watson, and John was trying to adjust and figure out what was going on. Every take gave an amazing new performance, a fresh take on each line.

 When filming is completed, the crews move out slowly, one group at a time. Lingering are the actors, and the two crew members in charge of guiding you around. You awkwardly introduce yourself to Martin and Amanda, doing your best not to squeal out loud. They are both very friendly and seem to either ignore or not even notice your awkwardness.

 “Are you planning to do anything else while you’re here in London?” Amanda asks. “There’s lots of things to see and do here.”

 “Oh, I’m sure!” you say, smiling. “I know that tomorrow I will be taking a tour of London atop a double-decker bus, and I was thinking about visiting Buckingham Palace after that. The London Eye also looks like fun, but I’m not sure I’ll have time after the other things.”

 “You’d be surprised how much you can get into a day.” Martin says. “As for the rest of today, would you like to come with us and just relax for the rest of the afternoon? I’m sure you’re still tired from your flight here.”

 “I would love to!” you exclaim excitedly. “That is, as long as it’s alright with everyone.”

 “Oh, I don’t mind in the least!” Amanda says happily, laughing.

 “You seem like a most wonderful person.” Benedict says. “I would have no problem with you tagging along with us for the afternoon.”

 “Well, then we had better get out of our wardrobe and into our street clothes.” Amanda continues. “If you’ll just excuse us, dear.”

 “Of course,“ you nod. “Go right ahead! I’ll give the crew members my cell number so they can reach me if they need to.”

They nod in agreement, exiting to their dressing rooms. You notify the crew where you will be, and give them your number. Martin and Amanda are out first, and they explain to you where they live, so you can tell the cab where to go. Benedict emerges from his own room soon thereafter, talking with one of the crew members briefly and texting at the same time.

 “Are we ready to go?” Martin asks when Benedict walks up to the group.

“I believe so - meet you there?” Benedict replies. “Your house, I presume?”

 “Yep!” Amanda affirms. “We’ll leave in our car, and (y/n) will be taking a cab. We’ll see you all at the house!”

Everyone descends the stairs of 221B, and you hail a cab as Martin and Amanda climb into their car. You are startled when Benedict climbs into the cab right after you, giving the cabbie directions.

 “Um” you say, “I thought you had a car you would be taking?”

“I wasn’t about to let you travel London all by yourself!” he laughs. “And besides, the address you have written on the back of your hand is wrong, you have the numbers all mixed up. It’s eighty, not eighteen.”

 “Oh,” you say sheepishly. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he grins. “Do you need anything from your hotel before we get there?”

 “No, I don’t think so.” You’re still unsure about how to react to having the world-famous celebrity in your cab. ‘He’s just being courteous’ you say to yourself; ‘this means nothing other than he wants to be nice to the guest’. Your head is chanting it over and over again, but your heart doesn’t seem to get the message. It thumps erratically in your chest, and you can only hope that he can’t hear it as loudly as you can.

 After what seems both an eternity and a minute in the cab, it pulls to a stop outside Martin and Amanda’s house. Before you can even reach into your purse to pay the cabbie, Benedict has it taken care of.

 “Thank you again,” you mumble, blushing slightly.

 “Very welcome,” he says, stepping out of the cab and holding his hand out for you to take.

 You gingerly accept it, stepping out of the cab as gracefully as you can. It is by no means elegant, but at least you don’t trip.

After the cab has left, Ben walks up the steps and knocks on the door; Martin opens it almost instantly. When you both had enter the house, it takes almost all of your self-control to not gasp in amazement. Their house, while not huge at all, is simply beautiful.

 “Your house is amazing!” you say out loud. “I’ve never seen a house so elegant and beautiful.“

“Thank you very much,” Amanda says with a laugh, “Why don’t we all just gather in the living room instead of standing around in the entryway?”

 Everyone follows Amanda into the sitting room, finding places to sit. There are two individual chairs sitting in front of a fireplace, and then two loveseat sofas facing each other, with a coffee table in between.

 Amanda and Martin sit on one sofa, leaving the other for yourself and Benedict to share. You can feel your skin flush, but you hope that no one else can see.

 “So, (y/n),” Amanda said, “How exactly did you start watching Sherlock? I know it’s not as popular in America as it is here.”

 “Well, actually,” you reply, grateful for an excuse to think of something other than the man sitting next to you, “I started watching it because of all the good things said about it on Tumblr. Tumblr is a fan-based site where people can talk about their favorite shows, books, movies, and pretty much everything else.”

 “I’ve heard of it.” Amanda said, “So that’s what caused you to enter the contest, was it on Tumblr?”

 “Well, when I first started watching Sherlock, I was currently really into a book series, and didn’t really want to get too much into the show. My best friend, however, was convinced that when I watched the show I would instantly fall in love with Ben- I mean the show.” You mentally slap yourself for letting that one slip. “Turns out, as much as I fought it, she was right and I fell in love with the show. I’d read the original books since I was little, so the show was just perfect for me. When I saw the contest on Tumblr, I couldn’t help but enter it.”

 “Well, I’ll bet you’re glad that you did!” Martin laughs.

 “So very glad. After all, if I hadn’t, I probably wouldn’t have ever met any of you!” you reply, looking at all of the people in the room individually, and trying not to linger on Benedict for too long.

 “Does anyone want to play a game?” Martin asks.

 Everyone agrees that they do, and for the remainder of the afternoon and evening you all play card games and share funny stories. Amanda even makes and serves dinner for everyone. You offer and try to help with the dishes, but Martin and Benedict both override your offer and do it themselves, leaving you and Amanda in the sitting room together.

 “You like him, don’t you?” Amanda remarks quietly, obviously trying to keep the boys from hearing.

 “What?!” you stutter, flustered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 “You don’t have to panic, I won’t tell anyone,” she says. “But it is rather obvious that you fancy Ben. I don’t quite know if he fancies you, but it does look hopeful.”

 “Thanks for not saying anything in front of him,” you mumble, completely embarrassed. “I really didn’t want his impression of me to be that I’m just another crazy fangirl.”

 “It’s alright, I understand how you feel!” Amanda soothes. “I do have one bit of advice for you, though. I know it’s hard to do around people that you look up to, and people that you fancy, but do try to just be yourself. Hiding parts of who you are, or pretending to like and dislike things you don’t really will get you nowhere with anyone.”

“Thank you,” you reply gratefully. “I’m just sorry I won’t be seeing any of you after today.”

 “Oh, I don’t know about that.” Amanda says, winking.

Before you can ask what she meant, Benedict and Martin come back in, laughing about something. The rest of the night speeds on faster than you believe possible, and it is soon time for you to go back to your hotel. After many hugs and farewells, Benedict leaves with you again in the cab, insisting on walking you to the doors of the hotel.

It is a quiet cab ride, though part of you is glad for it. You aren’t sure you’d be able to keep your voice steady if you had to speak. When the cab pulls to a stop, Benedict steps out first, again lending you a hand to get out of the cab. After asking the cabbie to wait for him, he leads you up to the entrance doors of the hotel.

 “It was wonderful meeting you, (y/n),” he smiles.

 “Same to you, Benedict,” you murmur, cheeks warming.

 “Please, do call me Ben,” he replies, still smiling. He brings your hand up to his lips and kisses it before turning to leave. “Goodnight, (y/n)!”

“Goodnight, Ben,” you say, just barely loud enough for him to hear. You can barely hear it yourself, the blood is rushing through your ears so loudly. When you lie down to sleep that night, your dreams are filled with echoes of the day you have just had.

 The next morning, the crew members call you and tell you to be ready by ten a.m. for your tour. The sights that you see are amazing, and you even make easy conversation with a few locals that are also on the bus.

Buckingham Palace is amazing, the elegance and the flawless architecture entertaining your eyes for hours. You stay in the Palace until closing at seven pm, and then decide to find a place to eat. Before you can decide where you want to eat, your phone’s ringtone catches your attention. An unread text appears on the screen, and you open it.

 “Are you available for dinner? –SH”

 “Uh, yea. Who is this?” you type back.

“You just saw me yesterday! I’ll meet you at the Cantinetta on 162-164 Lower Richmond Road. –SH”

You consider ignoring the stranger’s texts, until you realize what the signature line means. ‘SH’ has to stand for Sherlock Holmes. Which means Benedict has to be asking you out to dinner. Your heart dances inside your chest as the cab takes you to your destination. You get out and see him standing in slacks and a dress shirt, sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

 “Glad to see you made it,” he smirks, helping you out of the cab and into the restaurant.

 “I was confused by the text at first, but I realized it was you when I saw the signature line,” you say lightly, sitting at a table as you try to compose yourself.

“I suppose I probably should have told you who it was in the first text,” he says sheepishly, “But thankfully you were smart enough to figure it out on your own. I’m glad that the crew member I asked had your mobile number.”

“So that’s how you got it!” you exclaim, then snicker. “I’m rather impressed with your supreme level of secrecy. I thought you were just texting someone.” Amanda’s words echo in your mind, reminding you to be yourself to the best of your ability.

 “Yes, I wasn’t sure how to go about it with you directly, so I resorted to secrecy.” he says, perhaps a little embarrassed. “Did you see everything you wanted to?”

“Everything but the London Eye.” you reply. “But it’s a little late for that now. I doubt it will be open after we’re done eating.”

“I don’t know,” he says, and smiles mysteriously. “But now that the whole texting mess is over, shall we eat?”

You eat dinner between stories and laughs, and soon you forget you’re out with a celebrity, instead imagining that he is an old friend. When you have finished dinner, he pays the ticket before you can even look at it.

“Is this it  - am I headed back to my hotel then?” you ask teasingly as he hails a cab for you.

 “Not quite yet,” he says. He leans in, and tells the cabbie where he wants to go, though you can’t hear where. He helps you into the cab, then enters himself, closing the door. Instead of sitting across from you, as he had the last time you had ridden together, he sits next to you, causing you to turn a bright shade of pink. You are glad for the dark night; it makes your blush much easier to hide.

 “Now, cover your eyes,” he says quietly.

 You do as you are told, though curiosity is creeping up quickly. What on earth would he be doing that you had to close your eyes for? He helps you out of the now stopped cab, making sure you keep your eyes closed. You hear the cab drive away, and Benedict pulls gently on your arms.

 “You can look now, (y/n).”

 When you open your eyes, you gasp. The London Eye looms above you, changing colors in the starlight. He leads you to the loading area, handing the attendant two tickets that he has in his pocket. You sit next to each other, and the attendant closes the pod’s door. It isn’t long before you are being lifted up above the Thames to see London at night. Everything is alight, and you can see the steady streams of traffic moving through on streets far away.

 “This is… amazing,” you whisper, in awe of the urban beauty.

 “I’m glad you like it,” Benedict says warmly, “It was the least I could do to make your stay in London the best it could be.”

 “This is just icing on the cake, really,” you say softly. “I mean, you have been nothing but kind and sweet and amazing to me since I first laid eyes on you. I can’t even begin to think of how to thank you.”

 “You don’t have to,” he says. “Your eyes say it all.”

“I’m sorry if I at all seemed like a crazy fangirl,” you mutter. “I tried so hard to contain my excitement with everything with you, and Martin and Amanda, of course. There’s times I’m sure I slipped, though.”

“I never noticed anything too strange,” he replied, smiling. “The only slightly fangirly thing you did is when you said you instantly fell in love with the show… except you started saying something else before you corrected yourself. I’m curious as to what you were going to say, though I think I have a good idea.”

 Your mind battles with what to say, but as the Eye changes colors, and Benedict looks at you with his own eyes that change colors, you can’t make yourself lie. You can only hope Amanda was right.

“I was starting to say your name, because you’re who my friend told me I’d fall in love with,” you mumble quickly, looking down in shame. “And she is still right about that. I hope you don’t think of me any less for it. I completely understand that this is just to give me a fun time in London, and that there’s nothing at all between us aside from perhaps a new friendship. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me while I’m here, and-“

Your words are cut off mid-rant by a pair of lips pressed to yours. You flush beet red, and can’t stop yourself from putting a hand in his hair, responding to the surprise kiss. When you break apart, you continue to blush red, and look down at your toes while you fiddle with your hands.

 “It’s not just that I wanted you to have a good time,” he murmurs. “I liked you the moment I set eyes on you. You’re beautiful without trying, you’re funny without overdoing it. You, (y/n), are positively stunning in every way.”

“I don’t know what to say to that…” you whisper.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he promises, grasping your hand with his.

 You lean closer, and this time it is your turn to kiss him, burying your fingers in his curly hair. You feel like you are on top of the world.

And so it is at the top of the London Eye, on Westminster Bridge road, that you and Benedict share your first kisses. The first of many more to come.