I don't own any of the characters, only Sanah is my creation.
This is my first upload-thingy on this site, so I don't know how everything works yet. The only way to figure things out, is to try :P

Chapter one.

I stared at the bypassing cars while my bus rode through busy London. A green one, a red one,

another green one… Life always seemed to go on, no matter what. So many lives were tangled

together, without people even noticing each other. It was weird. So many stories. I wanted to

know them all. I looked at people, looked at the way they behaved, how they talked. I wanted to

know it all. But that day, that first day in London, I wasn't interested in other people. I had enough

problems of my own to think about. Like how I was going to build a new life here, with people I

didn't know. I hoped everything would turn out fine... I got out of the bus at the stop which name

was hastily written on a piece of paper and searched for the man who's name was also on the

paper. John Watson. I looked around, but I didn't see anybody, which startled me. Was I at the

wrong place? Wrong time? But then, I saw an approaching man, a running man. He had blonde hair

and he wasn't very tall, but he had a kind face.

'You must be Sanah,' he said when he was able to breath properly again.

'Yes,' I said, still observing him.

'My name is John Watson ,' he said. 'I'm sorry I'm late, Sherlock was... just being Sherlock.'

'How could Sherlock not be Sherlock?' I wondered.

'Follow me, please,' John said, ignoring my question. Or he just didn't hear it, I didn't know. But I

grabbed my backpack, swung it on my shoulder and followed the man.

London was fascinating. There were a one thousand things happening around me, I didn't know

where to look! So many people, so many things to see. I immediately loved it here. Sometimes I

just stopped to turn around and look again, leaving John wondering what on earth I was doing. But

after a couple of times, he just accepted it and watched me with a smile on his face.

'You'll have plenty of time to look around after dinner,' he eventually said.

'Oh, yes, of course,' I said, ashamed. 'Sorry.'

'That's fine, don't worry about it, but I figured you might want to see the apartment and such.'

'Yes,' I said and hastily followed him.

'221B Baker street,' John said to me when he opened the door of one of the apartments.

'Welcome.'

I followed him as he entered and climbed the stairs. When we entered the room, I saw a man

standing at a desk, searching for something. He looked up when he heard us. Icy blue eyes were

observing me and I observed him. He was tall and his dark curly hair made him look impressive,

like he had a certain authority. And he probably had. I wasn't sure if I liked that, because I was

going to live here for quite a while. But my father apparently thought it was a good idea to send

me over here, to live here with my uncle and his friend.

'So this is the man my father told me about,' I said. 'How come I've never seen you before?'

'Busy life...' Sherlock said, while he went back to doing what he was doing when we entered.

'Speaking of which, John, have you touched my stack of papers? Because everything has been

moved.'

'Well... yes,' John said. 'I wanted to tidy things up a little.'

'Don't ever touch my stack again,' Sherlock said.

After I had put my stuff in my new room, John introduced me to Mrs. Hudson. She was a very nice

old lady, and glad to see me. Because, she said, she was glad that Sherlock had family that cared

enough about him to visit him. I wasn't quite sure what Sherlock had told her, but I just nodded

and smiled at her. Everybody liked people that smiled at them.

During dinner, which John and I cooked together, Sherlock was still busy with some of his papers,

and I didn't really talk with him, but I talked a lot with John. He was a nice guy and I liked to talk to

him. But I was wondering why Sherlock was so quiet, and when I asked John, he shrugged and said

that Sherlock was just thinking about something that he couldn't solve yet. I wondered how it was

possible that the Sherlock Holmes had trouble solving something, but it was daily business

apparently.

'He will figure it out eventually,' John said.

That evening, while John was reading a book and Sherlock was just staring into nowhere, I walked

over to Sherlock's stack of papers and started reading the one on top. Sherlock didn't notice it, he

was just thinking about something difficult, I could see it. So I started rumbling through the

papers.

'What are you doing?' Sherlock asked when he noticed what I was doing.

'I was bored,' I said. 'This looked interesting. What does this mean?'

'Don't touch my stuff!'

'But -'

'Don't!'

'Fine...' I mumbled, walking back to my chair. 'So what should I do now?'

'Shut up,' Sherlock said.

I tried to stay in my chair, but I didn't quite succeed. You must know that I sometimes seem to have

too much energy, and sometimes way too less. This was one of the times that I had too much, so I

started walking back and forth. If this was the way I would spend every evening from now on, I

would go crazy. This wasn't my cup of tea. I sat down again with a sigh. Boring. But suddenly,

Sherlock jumped up from his chair with a big grin on his face.

'I found it!' he happily said. 'I found it, John!'

'That's great,' John said, putting away his book. 'So we can tell Mrs. Grenley that her husband's

murderer has been found?'

'Yes. We've got to visit Mr. Jones,' Sherlock said, putting on his coat.

'Can I join you?' I asked, smelling an adventure.

'No.'

'Please?'

'No.'

'Please?'

But Sherlock didn't answer anymore, he just turned around and walked away, with John following

him.

'Don't stay up,' John said with a smile. 'And try not to mess up Sherlock's papers, it'll freak him

out.'

'Fine...' I mumbled. 'Bye.'

And they left, I heard them walking down the stairs. As soon as I heard the door close, I ran over to

my room, grabbed my coat and ran to the door. I wasn't going to wait for them to get home, I

wanted to do something myself. Maybe I could even help them!

'Where are you going, dear?' Mrs Hudson asked when I ran down to the front door. 'They told me

to keep an eye on you.'

'I'm just going outside for a walk,' I said. 'Some fresh air will be good for me. I'll be right back.'

'Allright, but be careful,' she said.

'Yeah, sure,' I mumbled while opening the door and peeking on the street to see if Sherlock and

John would be able to see me. I saw that they were just passing the corner on my left and I

stepped outside to follow them. I was lucky that Baker street was a crowded place so I could easily

stay unnoticed. Their destination wasn't far away apparently, because they didn't take a cab. I

kept following them like a shadow. Well, not quite like a shadow, since I almost tripped over a

loose stone. But that didn't matter because they didn't notice me. The sun was already going

down, causing the street to look a lot darker than during daylight. That worked in my advantage, of

course, but it also made it harder to keep an eye on Sherlock and John. When the former rang the

bell of one of the houses in the street, after a 15 minute's walk, I hid myself in some alley, behind

a trashcan. But suddenly, I saw a police car stopping in front of the house. The man inside the car

got out, and walked over to the alley where I was hiding! I pushed myself against the trashcan to

stay invisible. If he saw me, that would be disastrous, what if he told my father? But he didn't see

me, he just hid behind another trashcan. Then, suddenly, I heard the sound of breaking glass and a

scream.

'Lestrade, now!'

That voice sounded an awful lot like Sherlock's voice. The man behind the other trashcan jumped

up and blocked the exit of the alley. Then I heard a lot of footsteps. The feet that were producing

those footsteps were moving in a really fast way. Just when the producers of the sound was about

to appear in sight (they had to pass a corner), I felt something move beside my feet. I looked

down, to see two glowing eyes next to me. A rat. I was a very brave girl, but when it was about

rats, I was a sissy. I screamed and jumped up, forgetting about the man named Lestrade and why I

even was in that alley. I tripped over my own feet and fell against the policeman. He also

screamed and fell on the ground. At that very moment, a man, Sherlock and John passed the

corner.

'Don't let him escape!' Sherlock screamed, but it was too late. The lean man who they were

chasing jumped over me and the man and crossed the street, almost getting hit by a car. Sherlock

followed him, but John stopped. He looked down on me and Lestrade with confusion written on

his face.

'Sanah?'

'Hi,' I said.

John first pulled me on my feet again, and then Lestrade.

'Do you know this girl?' the angry policeman asked John.

'I'm sorry,' I said.

John was about to say something, but then, we heard a happy voice.

'I've got him!' Sherlock said, appearing in sight again. He was dragging along the lean man. 'Let me

introduce you to Mr. Jones!'

'How did you know it was him who murdered Mr. Grenley?' Lestrade asked.

'Oh, that was very easy...' Sherlock said, but he suddenly saw me. 'What is she doing here?'

I was staring at my shoes, but I knew everybody was looking at me, including Mr. Jones.

'Well... I...' I mumbled. 'I...'

'... was curious and didn't want to listen to what you told me,' Sherlock said, finishing my

sentence.

'Well...'

'And so, you've brought this whole operation in danger,' Sherlock continued.

'I didn't know!' I said. 'That isn't fair!'

'Nothing in this world is fair, missy,' Mr. Jones mumbled.

Lestrade, mr. Jones and Sherlock went to Scotland Yard, while John brought me home.

'Oh, finally, you're home, dear!' Mrs. Hudson said when we entered the house. 'I've been so

worried, you were gone for such a long time! What happened?'

'Sanah thought it was necessary to interfere in our businesses,' John said.

'That isn't true...' I mumbled, knowing nobody would listen anyway.

John spend the rest of the evening reading a book.

'I'm sorry,' I said after a while.

'I know, it doesn't matter,' John said. 'It ended how we originally planned it to end, so don't

apologise to me. Though Sherlock might want to hear an apology.'

'Why?'

'I wouldn't know, but I don't know how Sherlock's mind works,' he said.

So I waited for Sherlock to get home, not knowing what to expect.