“you’re the one who stayed the longest, so far” Mrs. Hudson said as Kun turned around after paying the month’s rent. Kun smiled to himself as he heads upstairs. “I don’t like saying I told you so, but I did tell you so, Mrs. Hudson, I can manage” he said in a playful tone. He had grown close to her, to the point she almost thought of him as her own grandchild. “you have the patience of a saint, child” he could hear her say as he walked over to the fridge to grab a quick bite before he head to the room.

 

 Three months, it’d been three months since he first moved in to 221B, Baker Street. It had been quite challenging, even for him. He, who lived in of the strictest military training facilities, received training as both a soldier and a doctor at the same time, deployed multiple times to undisclosable locations, lived in camps and underground bunkers at battle fronts, in freezing cold, under scorching sun, in dense forests, in arid deserts. He had cohabitated brutal commanding officers, enemies who would slit his throat at any given moment, he’d spent nights and days in ORs, dealt with uncooperative patients, you name it, he’s lived it. but even for him, these three months were considerably challenging. But he it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

***

All sorts of people came to meet Ten, ranging from elitist of the elite, to the most average looking guy next door.. From police chiefs, to escorts, from people who lived in shelters to frat boys, from gang leaders, to reverends from chapels. Kun would hear them cry, beg him for him or yell at him. Kun later found out that he is a detective who works for both private clients as well as serve as a consultant for the Scotland yard. Ten had strange habits too. The sleeping schedule was what caused the most problems among them. Kun would come home exhausted after a 14-hour surgery, wanting nothing but sleep. Ten would be practicing shooting (yes, he shooting, minimal sounding, muffled training bullets at the request, or rather, complaints of Mrs. Hudson and several other neighbors and a multiple 911 calls from panicked pedestrians, but still was enough to disrupt Kun’s sleep)

 

“for ’s sake stop it, I’m trying to sleep!!!” Kun would barge into Ten’s room.

 

“It’s 4pm and I’m working” would be Ten’s answer.

 

“ I was suturing a ruptured thoracic artery all night I need to sleep!!! Why can’t you go to a shooting Range to practice that!”

 

“Shooting ranges? Who do you think I am, a kid? And I’m not practicing I’m trying to see how the suspect-”

 

“I don’t ing care what the suspect was doing I need to sleep or the next patient I operate might die”

 

“if I don’t solve this and catch the criminal, nobody knows how many others would die”

 

The bickering would continue until one of the lashes out or gives in. More often than not it’s Kun, who would march out and end up in the hospital again, sleeping on the couch of the on-call room.

 

On other days it would be because Kun’d set his alarm at early in the morning when he had to wake up to go to hospital. The alarm would wake Ten, who would be fast asleep after finally solving who stole a million-dollar painting from the French Ambassador’s official residence.  

Kun would wake up, not to the sound of the alarm but to a very angry Ten, yelling by his bed side “if you set an alarm, wake up for it, for the love of all things you hold holy!”

“What the hell are you doing in my room!!!”

“Why the hell won’t you switch off the alarm?”

 

 And the bickering would go back and forth, while the poor alarm goes ringing every 10 minutes in the background. What an excellent way to start the day.

 

Despite the constant bickering they did have nicer times too. Kun would cook, whenever he came early or had a day off. And when he did, he cooked for them both, sometimes even for Mrs. Hudson. He remembered Ten’s dietary preferences; he once made a few Thai dishes which lit up Ten’s face the moment he tasted the first spoonful.

Ten would clean up after Kun cooked. That was his contribution. As genius of as Ten was, he was painfully useless in the kitchen in anything other than cleaning. On some days, they would sip a glass of wine while listening to music. Polar opposites they might be, but they did share the same taste in music.

 In most evenings Ten would sit in one of the arm chairs, sipping coffee while reading something or taking glances outside the window, down at the murky grey roads of London. Sometimes Kun would join him, on the other chair, but unlike Ten, Kun would be looking up at the sky through the window. The bright lights of the skyline, slightly blurred because of the smog and even higher up at the stars, which glisten through the clouds. It would be a funny scene if someone were to walk in, two men, seated opposite e to each other by a window, one looking up, the other looking down, in silence, sipping coffee. But it was quite a peaceful and rather Zen like silence for the both of them and they enjoyed it more than they’d like to admit it.

 

“Why do you always look down at the road, and never at the skyline?” Kun asked one day. It was about 6pm on a cold autumn day, it was already dark, last light rays of the day were fighting to keep the sky in its characteristic pale blue, against he darkness. cars, busses bicycles on the road, pedestrians on pavements…. Some off work, some going out to meet loved ones, some happy, some sad, everyone was just moving, with or without a purpose.

 

“I watch people” Ten replied. “ I find it more interesting than watching stars million light years away from me. Every single person in the street has a story, if you watch carefully you can know. The burden they carry, the guilt, the passion, betrayal, lust, fears… all of it, and how they cover it up, how the enhance them… it’s fascinating, humans are”. He looked at Kun, who was staring at him in awe. “what about you, why do you look up, instead of down?” he asked.

 

Kun sighed ad looked up. It’s like an escape, it gives a sense of proportion. ” Kun replied quietly. “all of those stars, galaxies just the size of a dot but in reality, they’re gigantic. And the star I’m looking at right now, it could’ve died before I was even born, but I wouldn’t know. I’m staring at the light it emitted, a hundred million light years ago.” He said and took the last sip from his coffee. “The streets, the people reminds me too much of myself, rushing to tick yet another box of their to do list, working for a never ending list of goals. So the sky, is an escape”

 

Ten let out the softest smile. He liked conversations with Kun, he viewed the world completely different from him. Well, a lot of people did. But unlike those people, Kun wasn’t mundanely boring. He had his own interesting ways and Kun liked listening to them.

 

Amidst these moments of serenity and constant bickering, they grew close. Well, as close as one can get to Ten Lee. Or as close as Qian Kun would let himself be to someone. They would share details of their days, seated breakfast bar, over a bowl of ramen Kun had made, or Italian takeout Ten had ordered for them on days Kun was too tired to cook. It was either Kun explaining how they repaired three lumbar vertebrae of a man who fell from a five storied building or Ten discussing the newest leads of a case he was following. Kun liked the way Ten explained how he arrived to conclusions, based on observations. He noticed the corner of TEN's eyes glisten  whenever he was solving something in real time as he was talking to Kun. although he wouldn't admit it, he liked seeing the cocky smile Ten would have when he proved Lestrade's whole theory wrong in less than a minute I to the case.  Ten on the other hand, liked how calm and collected Kun sounded when he was exainging surgical procedures. He would explain all the possible routes they could've taken, the risks, the side effects,the prognosis, and Ten liked it. He also liked how fast and swift Kun's hands were, when he was showing ten a few surture techniques using a grape. Needless to say, their conversations were not what normal people would have over dinner. They once had Mrs. Hudson walked in while they were discussing a gunshot wound of a victim, with the picture on Ten’s laptop full on display for Kun to study, while having hotpot.

 “oh sweet lord” she muttered after a loud gasp. Kun apologized, while Ten stood there observing the image at different angles. Kun helped her out on the reason why she came to meet them, and reassured that everything was okay. “no wonder they get along well” she told herself, while shaking her head. Who on earth looks at gory bloody pictures of dead criminals while they’re eating?