Sherlock Holmes is not a normal man. Anybody who has met him, even in passing will vouch this. Sherlock hates normal, its boring. So he strives to be as un-normal as humanly possible. Currently, he is sat in a London cab on route back to 221b Bakers Street where he lives with his roommate John Watson. Wait, no he doesn't live there anymore. He up and left last year when I 'died' and moved in with his fiance... oh well, he'll be back at some point...Sherlock was itching to get back. He'd just finished a boring case with Scotland Yard that wasn't even a 3. He wanted something exciting to show up. He was bored, bored bored!

Throwing the driver the money and jumping out of the cab before it had stopped he rushed inside and up to his favourite chair. Ther he went into his mind Palace and sorted through the latest data.

John Wayson was the complete opposite to Sherlock Holmes. A retired veteran, kind and compassionate and has a lot more self preservation for danger. He had just finished his shift at the clinic and decided to go to 221b for dinner this evening. Mary will be fine, she is off out with the girls from work so won't even notice him gone. As much as he loved Mary, he misses the simple bachelor life he had with Sherlock. Going on cases whenever they appeared, lazing around the house watching TV and even getting angry at Sherlock for using the milk in his experiments.He missed it, but he would never say it out loud. Being 40 this year he needs to settle down or he never will. He worries about Sherlock though, is he eating? drinking? getting any sleep? So he tries to visit as often as possible. Even if its just to shove a take away down Sherlocks throat.

Little did he know, this visit would change the course of everything.

The evening was progressing like normal. Sherlock was still in his mind Palace and hadn't noticed John arrive, but John went about cleaning the kitchen and ordering some tea for them both. This was normal, familiar, and he went through the motions without having to think.

At a quarter to 9 the doorbell went, thinking it was the food John went to get it and was suprised to find a tall stocky man by the door.

'erm may I help you?' John had an uneasy feeling.

' is this where the famous Sherlock Holmes lives?' The man replied with a gravely rough voice, Nodding John opened the door wider and motioned up the stairs. The man stalked forward and John went to shut the door when he noticed a young woman standing behind the man. She was blonde and slender, no make up but he didn't think she really needed it. She wore a tatty slightly old mustard colour jumper and black faded jeans. Boots that looked worse for wear but comfortable. She was very pretty, in an understated natural kind of way. But it wasn't her looks that had John staring, it was her face, with a medical eye he could see a slight bruise on her cheekbone, a small cut on her eyebrow. She was biting her bottom lip and looked anxiously all around the room. Scoping out the exits his mind supplied. John frowned, He was about to say something but the man, who had reached the top of the stairs by now, had turned and glared at the girl. She squeaked and rushed after him, wringing her hands slightly as she did so. Shutting the door and following them up the stairs, John wondered what Sherlock would deduce if even he had been able to see these things.He just hoped he had enough tact not to come out and say it, he had a feeling this girl would get hurt.

Sherlock Holmes isn't a heartless bastard as everybody would think he is, especially that Sally Donevan at Scotland yard, she loved to spout out how unfeeling and heartless he is. But he's not, He may not show it, but he cares in his own way, and one thing he can't stand is a woman being abused. And that's what was standing in front of him right now. Ignoring the man with the case he scrutinised the girl standing with him. Lank hair, split ends so hasn't had a haircut in a long time, bruise to the cheek neck and shoulder, probably manhandled. Cut to the eyebrow. Anxious disposition, eyes flickering everywhere but returning to the man every few seconds, head down enough to not want to be noticed, hoping to blend in. Slight blood on the right knee, looks like a cut underneath. She's also sweating, and shivering... ah fever then.' all of this Sherlock was able to gather within a minute of her walking into the room. He needed to tread carefully. Try and get her to stay so John could take a look at her.

He turned his attention the man, tall, stocky, dressed in a crisp black suit with solid gold cufflinks. Not one of his homeless network that's for sure but doesn't see daylight very often, club bouncer maybe? No too important for that, taking this in Sherlock didn't move except to place his fingers together in front of him. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for the man to start.

'They say you're the best.'Sherlock rolled his eyes.

' I have a case for you.' Obviously, you wouldn't be here if you didn't. I already know what you want just hurry up and spit it out.'somebody has stolen some important blueprints of a building I happen to be wanting to take over. I need them back and I need you to get them. Discreetly.'

Sherlock noticed the slight jump the woman behind him gave when he mentioned the blueprints ah, she took them then, I wonder why they are so important she would risk her life to take them. I need to get her alone.'There will be a reward of course, get me the culprit and the prints back and I'll give you £5000.' Though he didn't show it, Sherlock was startled by how much these prints meant to this man.

'Done' The man looked satisfied and got up to leave but stopped when the next thing Sherlock said was..

' but she stays' looking at the man determinedly, the man narrowed his eyes and scrutinised the woman as if she had done something. Her eyes widened in shock and she took a small step backwards, Shaking her head ever so slightly. He eyed her and Sherlock held his breathe, if she didn't get to stay she would be dead by the end of the night, he was sure of it.

Not seeing what he was looking for, the man shrugged, pushed her back a little, swept down the stairs and out the door into the cold night.

Moment passed in silence.

'Well that was eventuful, now Miss, where did you hide those blueprints?' Sherlock asked, watching her closely Her breathing hitched, her eyes rolled backwards and she fell to the floor. Sherlocks quick reflexes only just being able to catch her head before it hit the coffee table.

He and John stared at each other with wide eyes and then jumped into action.

'Whoops.'