General warning: This story will include some mentioning of a minor's drug use and has a mentions of child abuse in it. Nothing graphic though. But if that is not your thing, I get it and you don't have to read the story if that bothers you. With this said, I bid you my hello and hope you read and enjoy the story.


Chapter One 221B Baker Street

I hid myself in the shadows when a tall man came out of the door, which led to the flat 221B. He was soon followed by another, older and shorter man. I wasn't sure, but I think his name was John.

I'm surprised that he didn't see me, that he didn't sense me staring at him. I thought he noticed everything, but apparently I was wrong.

I waited until both men had got into a taxi and drove away before I moved to the side alley and started climbing up the ladders.

It was almost too easy to sneak in to the Baker Street's flat.

With a huge grin on my face, I opened the window and slid in with a loud thump. I looked around at the now quiet and dark flat. There was a mantelpiece with a skull on top of it and papers struck down to it with a knife. I shivered slightly and hugged my bag closer to me. There were two armchairs and a sofa in the room. It wasn't as messy that I had expected it to be, but there were still papers everywhere. A ghost of a smile appeared to my lips when I noticed the violin on the other armchair.

Very gently my fingertips traced its beautiful shape.

He would kill me if he saw me now.

With that thought forming inside my brain, I dropped my hand and turned towards the kitchen. There was a microscope and some other science stuff - that I couldn't wrap my head around to - on the table.

With my stomach growling, I decided to look into the fridge to find something eatable.

I opened the door and closed it really quick again. My heart skipped a beat. Closing my eyes, I took a couple steadying breaths, opened my eyes and looked into the fridge again.

Yup, there it was. A freaking severed head!

"Well... I wasn't expecting that..." I muttered under my breath and closed the fridge's door after noticing that there wasn't anything to eat.

With a long sigh, I wandered back to the living room and sat down on the sofa. I wiped my dark hair away from my face. Curling my legs up and hugging my knees tightly, I closed my eyes.

God, I was tired. Maybe I could just take a short nap. They won't be back for another half an hour anyway.

Slowly I dozed in the darkness.


Sherlock Holmes stormed out of the vehicle as soon as it had pulled stop in front of the 221B, leaving John Watson pay to the cabbie – as always. When John few minutes later climbed up the stairs to their flat he had to stop because of Sherlock, who in turn had stopped in the doorway. John frowned and tried to push his friend inside.

"Sherlock, what's – Who's that?"

There was a young girl lying on the couch. Curled up in a ball. Her dark brown hair was messy and covered half of her peaceful face. She was obviously asleep, her chest rising and falling slowly. John guessed that she was about fourteen or fifteen years old.

Sherlock was shocked by the fact that she was curled up on the sofa, fast asleep. There was one sentence yelling inside his brain:

Caring is not an advantage.


Disclaimer: I own nothing! Well.. except that dark haired girl.

Author's Note: Hi guys! I'm so excited about this fic, I have so many ideas and they're just waiting to be written!

What did you think? Do you want more? Do you want to know who that girl is and why Sherlock seems to know her? Please read and review, it would make my day! :)

I know that this first chapter is really short but it's the point of it; next one will be much longer, I promise.

Oh, almost forget, if there are any mistakes, fault is completely mine: I don't have a beta and English isn't my first language.