"Why are you so stupid?" That question was one of the most frequent questions Sherlock ever asked, and one of the most annoying. It was the last thing he had said to a certain young woman the same age as him; 23. She was tall, the same height as Sherlock, sharp green eyes, fair skin, and her name was Aideen O'Connor.


The last time she had seen Sherlock was not a very nice memory. He had taken advantage of her in their childhood friendship, leaving her without even saying goodbye when he left at the age of 15, and as soon as Aideen had been old enough, she'd started tracking him down. On the road, she'd learned self defense, such as karate, and spy fighting, and she was naturally very smart. Spy fighting like Black Widow. FYI.

Aideen slung her backpack over her shoulder, her backpack being the only thing other than her bow, quiver of course, and her dagger. She got off the bus and pushed her black frames glasses up her nose. Being good with computers had come in handy last night when she'd found Sherlock Holmes website and had been able to have the location of the updates. As soon as she had, she'd put her thin laptop and collapsible bow in her backpack, as well as her few clothes, and gotten on a bus from the northern side of London, to a few streets from Baker Street. She rented a flat on Baker Street, and went over to 221b Baker Street.


Sherlock groaned and violently grabbed his phone, if only to shut up it's stupid ringing.

"What?" He snapped, and Lestrade answered,

"Sherlock, we found a body." Sherlock's interest was sparked.

"Where."

"St John's street."

"Very well. Bring your least annoying officers." He hung up and shoved his phone in his pocket in his coat.

"Case?" John asked, without looking up.

"No need to come." Sherlock replied and strode out the door. Not twenty minutes passed before the doorbell rang and Mrs Hudson hurried downstairs to answer the door. She soon came up and said,

"John dear, young woman here to Sherlock. She asked if she could wait. I told her she could." John nodded, putting down his laptop. The girl that came in was tall, fair skinned, red hair, green eyes, and looked fairly calm. John looked at her for a moment before asking,

"You aren't here for a case are you?" The girl looked at him and smiled. It was a nice smile.

"Hello to you too." John almost slapped himself. He was getting like Sherlock!

"I'm so sorry. Hi, I'm John Watson." The young woman shook his offered hand.

"Aideen O'Connor." John looked surprised.

"Aideen?" Aideen's face changed.

"Yes. Aideen, the one Sherlock, judging by your face, has told you about. Did he say I was a slut?"

"No!" Aideen twitched her eyebrows, nodding.

"Pleasant surprise. I should've thought he would insult me in every way possible. Calling me a Mick-slut, that sort of thing."

"Well, he only accidentally told me about you. I hooked onto him and he told me as little as possible."

"Well, would you like to hear the story from my point of view?" Aideen asked, and John nodded.

"Please. If I heard it from Sherlock's, I'd most likely get nothing but his side, saying he was always right and things like that." John sat down and Aideen set down her backpack, sitting on the floor.

"You can sit on the couch, you know." John said after a moment, causing Aideen to smile.

"Yes, but I prefer not to."

"So. I knew Sherlock since I was around three, we lived near each other and no one else was our age so naturally enough we corresponded a lot. As we got older, Sherlock sadly started developing his already far too developed brain, and started using me as a science project. Like a lab rat. He never appreciated my cooperation, never said thank you. Just kept telling me what to do and asking me why I was so stupid. He messed up a lot, but I didn't complain. For twelve years he just experimented on me, giving me nothing but scars, then one day, I went over to his house, and he was gone. He'd moved, and he hadn't even said goodbye, or thank you for the twelve years of letting him experiment on me. So, when I was older, I started tracking him down, learning how to defend myself on the way. I have always been sort of smart, so I found Sherlock's website and uh...hacked his location, and here I am."

"Why would he call you a Mick-slut?"

"Because I'm Irish. Hence the name, looks, and temper. It may not seem like it, but I have a dreadfully short temper."

"How smart are you really?" John asked, naturally curious.

"Well..." Aideen looked him up and down. "You used to have to walk with a cane, you were a doctor in the war, the Afghanistan war to be precise, you are the person who tends to apologize when you break into places with Sherlock, you have a gay sister, and you aren't gay, naturally enough disliking being called so by Mrs. Hudson." John was astonished. She was as good as Sherlock! A little better as she could see he wasn't gay.

"Just a few things I want to know how you could tell. The cane, and not being gay." He asked, and Aideen smiled.

"The cane, you have calluses on your hand where only a cane would rub, not being gay, you don't have a ring, and you aren't wearing anything rainbow or such a thing that signifies gay people. Also...you don't have the gay person look. Also you look healthy, another thing that gay people aren't." John nodded.

Their conversation, which was about how Sherlock had experimented on her, was interrupted when the front door opened and slammed harshly.

"Oh dear. He's in a temper." John groaned. Aideen clenched her fists.

"Might not be the best time to confront him." John warned.

"Och it's the perfect time!" Aideen hissed, her accent showing up. John held up his hands in surrender.

"I shan't interfere." He murmured, and sat in his chair. Sherlock soon stormed into the room, grumbling and growling about something like, 'fake body! just a teenager prank! idiot inspector!' and Aideen took a small breath, attracting Sherlock's attention.

"Who are you? Never mind, get out." Aideen crossed her arms. "No." She replied, a nonchalant look coming across her face. John suppressed a smile. She was good.

"Who the he-" Aideen then slapped him. "No swearing, Sherly." She hissed, and yanked up her long sleeves.

"Remember me? The 'stupid' one? The Mick? The lab rat? The thing for you to experiment on?!" Once the cloth of the sleeves was pulled away, several scars were revealed, many long and jagged, all that looked painful. Sherlock's eyes widened for once, and Aideen punched him hard on the arm, shouting,

"You didn't even say goodbye! You used me for years then just picked up and left! You call yourself a detective for justice!"

"I am!" Aideen's eyes flashed. "Prove it. Deduct this Sasanach!" She slapped him hard across the face then punched him in the stomach. She shook her fist, blowing out a short breath. Sherlock groaned, and muttered,

"Mick." That added onto Aideen's anger and she grabbed his arm, bending it backwards onto his back and shoved him against the wall.

"Don't appall me when I'm angry. Oh wait. You just did." She jerked him around wrenching his arm, punching his eye, then grabbed the lapels of his shirt, shoving him backwards onto the chair. She started forward, then stopped, clenching her fists again, and took a few deep breaths, closing her eyes.

"Oh dear!" Everyone's attention was drawn to Mrs. Hudson, who was standing startled in the doorway, her hand covering her mouth. Then she went up to Aideen and hugged her gently.

"Thank you dear. He deserved that." Aideen was clearly startled, her eyes widening and her mouth opening in slight surprise.

"W-well, you're welcome." She said, at a loss for anything better to say. Mrs. Hudson patted her on the back and went out of the room. Aideen stared after her then covered her mouth, starting to giggle. John started chuckling, then Aideen started laughing out loud with him. Then Aideen looked over at Sherlock, and saw he was unconscious. She winced.

"Oh I hate my temper..." She sighed. John put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Mrs. Hudson was right. He did deserve that. He's been particularly insufferable lately." Aideen sighed and then she pushed and pulled Sherlock into a comfortable position on the couch, even putting a blanket over him. Then she went into the kitchen with John, who cleared the table and made some tea.


Sherlock opened his eyes and groaned, his stomach, arm and eye were hurting. He got up and took some painkiller, then looked in the kitchen, where he saw Aideen and John sitting at the table, drinking some tea and talking. John looked over and saw Sherlock, and waved his hand, telling him to come in.

"Aideen is going to help us solve mysteries from now on Sherlock." John announced, as he brought his tea to his mouth, starting to drink it quickly so he wouldn't have to answer Sherlock. Aideen's mouth quirked; smart. So surprising, not, Sherlock protested.

"No! She's a girl!" John put down his tea and replied,

"Yes, she is a girl, a girl you owe. You tortured her for years Sherlock, you owe her that. And her family is dead, also Mrs. Hudson's taken a fancy to her and wants to see her every day, so that is the only answer to the problem without Mrs. Hudson pestering you daily about having her over." Sherlock opened his mouth to protest, but then John glared at him, then flicked his gaze to Aideen, who had one elbow on the table, gazing out the window, and all over looked lonely. John and Sherlock's silent conversation was interrupted by Mrs. Hudson bustling in.

"Sherlock dear, Mycroft is downstairs. He wants to see you." She said, and Aideen jolted out of her reverie. "Actually now he's upstairs." She said, not looking up from her tea, which she was staring into. Sherlock turned and saw his older brother indeed, standing and leaning against the wall.

"What do you want, Mycroft?" Sherlock asked in his usual annoyed tone of voice.

"I want you to go out to Ireland later this week on a case. It shouldn't take you more than a day to complete." Mycroft took in Sherlock's rather bruised face, raising a single eyebrow, and saying nothing.

"What case?" Sherlock queried, and Mycroft replied,

"A missing girl. Name of Eavan O'Brien. They will give you the details upon your arrival."

"Very well. You can go now." Sherlock finished, pointing. Mycroft shrugged slightly and turned to leave, but a quiet, Irish accented voice, unmistakably feminine, said softly,

"Hello Mycroft." Mycroft turned and saw Aideen standing next to Sherlock and John. Something flickered across his usually emotionless face, and he nodded to Aideen.

"Aideen. Have you quite recovered from my brother's torturing?" A small smile came onto Aideen's pretty face, and she nodded.

"And I got him back for it." She added, glancing sideways, and Mycroft nodded, looking at Sherlock once more, before exiting the room. Aideen then went over to her backpack, slinging it over her shoulder.

"Well, I'm going to my flat. I'll see ye tomorrow." She said, and John gave her a sideways hug, and Sherlock waved as she left, skipping down the stairs in an abnormally cheerful fashion. They heard her bidding goodbye to Mrs. Hudson, and John watched her go down the street to her flat, quickly opening the door of her flat and entering. John sighed.

"I will not deny it will be nice to have a human being around here other than Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson." John sighed, then retreated into his room for the night.

I really shouldn't be writing this story...at least not for a while...Why am I so nice again? Oh well! I'll try to update this and Just Say Yes, as well as Feminist? Yep! more often! Review and PM me!