Hello everybody! Craest Spell here. Once again we join another adventure with my one and only OC (I'm sorry if that seems unoriginal to many of you T-T) in the world of Sherlock.

BUT!

This time this story takes place OUTSIDE the show. LE GASP!

Soooooo, as a disclaimer I am here to say I own none of the show nor its characters or actors.

And if ANY of said actors happen to read this fanfic...0.0'

Well...I apologize ahead of time if none of the information regarding yourselves is correct or offensive in anyway. I'm making this up as I go but I am attempting to create your words and actions based on what I've seen through a few interviews and talk shows. And if you happen to enjoy it regardless then I consider that a success! XD

And so without further ado...

My first day in the capital of the U.K...and I was lost.

Totally. Utterly. LOST.

The gray, almost paper white sky clouded my vision like a blank sheet with no answers as I searched hopelessly for one. Obviously none came to me.

Now don't blame me—it wasn't my fault.

My family and I just arrived at Heathrow airport because about a week ago, my dad got a request by some company to ask of his services. You see, my dad is an extremely exceptional engineer; he can find and fix any problem in any complicated hospital equipment in as little as five minutes, give or take, when it usually takes his co-workers several hours. No joke. Apparently there was a major power outage that affected all of the machines in several hospitals and none of the engineers could locate the problem. His reputation was well known throughout the States and now it stretched across the seas as well. That's how they came to formally request to temporarily recruit my dad to solve their troublesome predicament. And since they were paying for everything, all expenses included, he decided to bring us along to make it like a vacation. It was summer after all and we didn't know how long it would take for him to finish the job.

I emerged from the jam-packed airport and into the bus ports, breathing in elatedly as I stretched my arms. "I finally made it to London!" I cheered, ignoring a few odd looks from other travelers. There was so many things I wanted to check out. One especially about a certain consulting detective and an army doctor.

"Honey, come on! We're about to board!"

"Coming!" My family had already loaded the luggage on the red tour bus to get a better view around the old city before we get to the hotel. Unconventional I know but I never considered my family to be the normal type. I was last to get in. Only there was one problem. Just as I about to fill in the last ounce of space provided for us tourists, I was rudely shouldered by a middle aged man with shaggy hair and fell to the ground in a muddled heap.

"Hey!" I cry out indignantly. However, my uprising rant was cut short into shock as the doors closed shut. With my family still on it. "Hey, wait!"

The bus was already pulling out of the curb by the time I got to my feet. I ran alongside the bus, knocking on the window in hopes it would stop and let me on. No such luck. I was forced to stop at the corner of the sidewalk when a car got in the way. 'Why won't it stop?' I was sure my parents would be screaming at the driver to pull over and let me on or at least get off. Then again, with all those people smashed in together, I doubt they could even hear themselves think.

I watched helplessly as the red tour bus, and the only people I knew in all of London, was swallowed into the traffic herd. The last thing I saw in those windows was the man who stole my ride giving me a blank look like it wasn't his fault.

Ya darn right it is!

I contemplated going after them, but I knew it would be a fruitless effort. The bus could turn one way and I could be stuck on the other side of the street waiting for the traffic light to change just so I could cross. Not to mention how long it'll take to reach its first destination. So I had no choice but to sit tight and wait until my family get back to me...Dang it.

Few hours later.

Double dang it.

They're not coming back are they, at least, not anytime soon. It was at that moment I was, once again, practically barreled into by another man as he dashed by me in a huff. I would have crashed head first into death's front door if I hadn't caught myself in time. Thank gosh for martial arts training. I was beyond livid now.

'TRIPLE DOG DANG IT! REALLY?!' Seriously, what is up with people bumping into me today? And what's with that guy? He's acting as if Queen's guards were after him or he just stole something from a museum or whatever.

"Are you alright?" There was a painful cry and I saw, to my astonishment, a young man helping up an elderly woman who wore a green floral dress. Now don't get me wrong. It's not that uncommon to see youngsters these days helping the seniority. No. What I noticed was I briefly recalled her having something at hand that was no longer there.

"I'm alright." Her eyes were so pained, no doubt from the fall, and were looking in my direction.

One look and it clicked. He did steal something, and from an old lady no less.

'Oh my freaking-'

My impulses kicked in and adrenaline pumped through my veins and into my legs. I tore through the London crowd without a second thought, careful not to ram into anyone with my agility, in the same direction the thief had gone. In two seconds I remembered that I was supposed to stay put and that there would be little chance of making it back. The thought was thrown into the wind. I was already lost anyway so what does it matter? At least this way, I get to catch a criminal (you don't hear that very often) and help out a complete stranger. It'll certainly become a memorable first day out on British soil.

I spotted the suspect swaggering leisurely with the woman's bag tucked under his arm like he won the grand prize.

"Hey, you!" I called him out, still panting a bit.

The moment his eyes clapped mine (I must have looked feral), he ran like the devil was hot on his heels.

Close enough.

People scattered away from the man's bulldozing path in confusion, and in his wake I cleared the open pathway in time to stay in the chase.

I didn't stop. If anything, my adrenaline spiked and pumped up more speed into my legs to match the bad guy. He knew I was coming for him and let me say, this guy was trying EVERYTHING to shake me off his tail. He yanked down crate towers, merchandise stands, even people to stall me. He forced me to leap over benches, hedges, road block hurdles, man holes, you name it. We've cut so many corners that I lost count after ten turns. Not to mention how he ran across moving traffic (LONDON TRAFFIC!) twice. And nearly made road kill out of me, twice.

It wasn't long until my calves burned to keep up the pace. It was getting difficult to breathe like icy winds were cutting into my lungs with each breath. But through it all, my heart was soaring. I don't know why, but it was. Here I am, chasing a third rate criminal around London in who knows what part of the city, and I'm enjoying it like Christmas had come early. Never before have I done something as ridiculous as this and yet it felt as natural as breathing.

I should do this more often.

The chase for justice was endless when in reality it couldn't have been no more than an hour—just how much energy does this guy have?!—alternating between jogging and sprinting to keep up with him.

At that mark, he changed directions again, but this time into a residential area lined with three story buildings and a couple small shops scattered down the street. Somehow the street appeared vaguely familiar for a second but was too caught up in my pursuit to think on it.

To my luck, that was when he reached his first snag.

Down the road there was a massive crowd filling every inch of the sidewalks the entire way down the street, a few camera trucks parked along the sidewalks. What for? I hadn't the faintest. Maybe they were prepping for a parade.

The way I see it, the man had two choices.

One: He could turn around and face my brutal wrath.

Or,

Two: He could run down that street in front of hundreds that will clearly see he's a thief and eventually get sacked. (Though I haven't quite figured out why he hasn't yet.)

Seeing how he never stopped running concluded his decision and ran to what he thought to be his golden opportunity.

"Someone stop him!" I sucked in enough air to yell out to whoever would listen to stop this crazy runner before catching my breath again. At least this way they will see he's a thief and make my job easier. A couple burly guys close by, probably security judging by their bulky yet muscular physique and uniforms, heard my plea and moved to apprehend the man.

Good. There was no way he could get through without being taken down now-

He pulled something out of his jacket and pointed it above him as a loud bang ricocheted between the buildings.

He had a gun.

Sorry, let me reemphasize that.

The man had a GUN.

Hope ya liked it!

Just to warn you ahead of time, I don't have this whole story planned out (much like the other ones heh heh) but so updating may be slow. But I do have big plans with this story so I hope you'll bear with me. And just like my other stories, these chapters will be prone to short or long edits from time to time, meaning parts may be added or deleted, but most likely its just grammar or spelling fixes. The chapters won't always be this short. This is mainly to drag it out a bit so it gives me to time to continue where I left off before the chapters catch up.

Anyway, review or PM me if you have any thoughts about it so far.

Until next time!