Of course, I don't own Sherlock but Leem and Fil are entirely my own creation. Please read my other fiction, "Merely Players", to get an idea about how Sherlock met them and their importance in his world. Otherwise, you might miss some references. This was a story I was requested to write. In it, Leem finds some happiness.

Check me out on Tumblr to see pics of Leem and Fil. I am mae-jones on that site.

Chapter 1 - The rocky start

Sushi Tang was always busy. Fil was glad he ordered everything at once because the staff was especially run off their feet this afternoon. He stuffed another piece of California roll in his mouth and followed it up with a slug of tea. He glowered down at his empty cup and held it up until the waitress took note and nodded an acknowledgement. He hoped he didn't have to wait too long. He felt restless nearly every moment these days. He studied his older sibling's perpetual scowl. Well, at least he wasn't as pent-up as his brother.

"Who is this bird we're supposed ta guard this next week, by the way?" He asked.

His brother Leem swallowed his mouthful of food. "I dunno the lady, she's a math teacher or something."

Fil stuck his lip out. "A teacher, ack. No fun. She'll try ta tell us we can't speak worth shite."

Leem set down his chopsticks and picked his teeth with his fingernail. "We can't speak worth shite, Fil, and we should just keep our mouths shut, right? No need to get to know 'er. We just gotta make sure she's safe for a few days."

Fil wrinkled his nose. "She in trouble?"

"Ah, the boss says she cracked some code or something. It's just a few weeks til they sort it out and then she ain't in danger anymore."

"Nah, if she's a code-cracker, she'll always be in trouble. If she's on one side, the other'll want ta whack her."

Leem rolled his eyes. "Well, she won't be our problem then. A couple days, Myc said. We escort her to a safe house and it's outta our hands. Easy job. Oh, and Sherlock Holmes is our guide. Apparently, he knows 'is way round the Roma."

Fil scrunched up his face and groaned. Anybody but him!

"Sherlock Holmes! I thought ya said this was going to be an easy job."


"This is the transportation you selected?" Sherlock frowned at the car parked at the curb.

Fil yanked open the door and gestured to the leather interior. "Yeah, what's wrong wit it? Not posh enough for ya?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes as he raised a brow. "I don't even have my own car. I care little for my conveyance, unless it's an aircraft. Then it's private, or first class, or not at all and that's because I can't stand . . . ug . . . people. However, we're supposed to arrive inconspicuously to one of the poorest Roma districts in all of Europe and you want to roll up to the infamous Linuk ghetto in a brand new Mercedes S63?"

Fil frowned at the beautiful silver sedan. He poked his lips to one side as he envisioned the reaction of the people in the slum. He sighed. He hated when Mr. Holmes was right.

"Damn. I was lookin' forward ta driving that," He rubbed a hand over his shorn locks. "All Myc said was ta get an appropriate car and that I could spend a couple thousand quid."

Sherlock's nose twitched as he looked down it. "He meant for you to buy one locally here in Bratislava, not rent one."

Fil furrowed his brow even deeper. He needed a freakin' interpreter for the Holmes. They always spoke in riddles and doublespeak. They made a game out of confusing everyone. It was enough to make him spit.

"Yeah, but two-thousand quid will only buy a piece of shite . . ."

Sherlock huffed a breath and gestured with his finger as if compelling him to speed up his thoughts. "Yes, yes, yes."

Fil scratched his temple. "Well, crap. Yeah, I get it now. I just thought . . ."

"Don't think. You're barely competent at it. Speaking of barely competent, where is your better half, Leem?" He glanced around.

Fil bunched his hands at his sides. Leem had all the luck.

"The teacher wanted a coffee. 'E took her to get one."

Sherlock flipped up his collar and buttoned his jacket as the wind picked up. "Location?"

Leem pointed towards a small building sandwiched between two others. "The café down the street."

"Then that's where you can pick us up once you find a replacement vehicle."

Fil growled. If his boss wouldn't turf him, he'd sucker punch his little brother.

"What would ya have me purchase, sire?"

Sherlock crooked a brow. "Picture the exact opposite of this vehicle. Something Mycroft wouldn't be caught dead in."

Fil grumbled at his back as he started to walk away. Sherlock took a few steps and then stopped and half-turned. His lips parted and he squinted.

"Fil, when I say opposite, you understand that it needs to make a four hour journey through the heart of Slovakia?"

"Ahm not a total fuck-up, Mr. Holmes," he said as he rounded the car to the driver's side. "Ya can trust me to do a good job."

Sherlock frowned at him over the top of his upturned collar. "Mr. Coley, I specifically requested you and your brother for this assignment. I do not make mistakes, ergo, my trust in your capabilities should be implicit. Now, go fetch us a transport, erm . . . please?"

Fil stopped and thought about what Mr. Holmes had just said. It was a compliment of sorts and he hadn't ever had one from the prat!

He grinned. "On it, Mr. Holmes."


Leem peeked up from his tablet at the woman he was supposed to be protecting, the 'much too young to be a Professor' Katherine Adams. She wasn't a typical beauty by any stretch of the imagination but there was something appealing about her face all the same. Maybe it was because she was so damn English in appearance. He reminded her of the girls growing up that were always the plain friend of the type he'd typically date- quiet, bookish, nervous but usually warm to whomever bothered to talk to them.

She had large eyes somewhere between amber and brown framed by long, black lashes and straight, unfussy brows. Her hair was a dark honey blonde, parted to one side that hung to her shoulders in a layered yet practical cut. She had a narrower oval face, a longer than probably fashionable nose that came to a bit of a point and a kind of crooked smile. Her top lip was a bit thin but her bottom lip was full and feminine and pink and . . . he shook himself. He spoke before he realized what was coming out of his mouth.

"You're going ta stick out from the gypsies like a sore thumb."

She blinked at him over her coffee and then set it down slowly. "Oh, I don't know. They aren't all dark haired and dark skinned, you know, and gypsy is kind of derogatory. I think they prefer Roma, if you have to label them at all. They're just people."

Leem's face heated. What a great start! She thought he was an ignorant pig. Well, he might as well establish that sooner than later. He took a breath.

"Yeah, I don' know much about them, I guess. Where we're going, they're pretty poor, right? Ya think you can handle that?"

When she smiled a dimple danced in her cheek. "Well, it's not like being poor is a disease, is it? And if it is, it's a curable one, wouldn't you agree? I'm not worried. If Sherlock Holmes thinks that Linuk is the safest place for me right now, then I'll make due. I've been around a bit, you know. I haven't just been scribbling on a chalkboard at Cambridge."

Leem cleared his throat. This was going from bad to worse.

"Yea, alright. No offense. You just seem like ya grew up around Holland Park or somethin'."

She smirked. "I grew up in a duplex in Didcot with my single Dad but thank you for the compliment. I've been trying to pass myself off as a spoiled rich girl from London for ages. It's a lot easier for people to accept than that I earned my way to university."

"Christ!" He thought. "I need ta shut my trap."

The door to the café opened then, and a breeze heralded the arrival of Sherlock Holmes. Leem swallowed. He was never happier to see that arrogant git in his life. Katherine looked warily over her shoulder at him. She leaned forward.

"Oh, good God, here we go," she whispered conspiratorially. "Is it just me, or is he the biggest prick you've ever had the misfortune to meet? Do you know one of the first things he did when we met was critique my graduate thesis?"

Leem shrugged. "Um, yea, 'e fancies himself pretty clever. I hope 'e wasn't right."

She scrunched up her nose adorably. "No, he was right, the arrogant ass, but a girl doesn't want to hear it. I would rather he picked apart my outfit, for pity's sake. My vanity wouldn't have suffered nearly so much."

Leem laughed and knew he was in trouble. He liked Ms. Adams. A lot. Damn.