Kirjava stalked the rooftops of London. John was going to look at the flat with Sherlock but she hadn't wanted to spend more time with him. That eagle just annoyed her. So she decided to check out the area, meeting up with her human later on.

A small bird landed in front of her and she grinned. Sinking low to the ground, she let out a growl. The bird set flight as she pounced and she chased it over dozens of buildings. She managed to bite hold of the bird's tail feathers when John sent a feeling of annoyance through the link. Feeling embarrassed, Kirjava let the bird go, sending an apology down the link. John shouldn't really be feeling those sort of emotions (adrenaline, glee and aggression) when he was looking at a flat for them.

Searching for him down the link, Kirjava headed to John's location. She sent a warning down the link when she reached 221B. She heard the window open below her and jumped straight into her human's arms. He chuckled, placing her down on one of the chairs.

'Sherlock's run off with the police.' He said, causing her to roll her eyes. He sat down opposite her, smiling. Kirjava was about to open her mouth to say something when Sherlock came back into the room.

'You're a doctor. Actually, you're an Army doctor.'

Kirjava growled slightly. The eagle on Sherlock's shoulder simply tilted her head. 'Yes.'

'Any good?'

'Very good.' By this time, Kirjava had jumped to John's chair and climbed to the top, looking Sherlock right in the eyes. If he was fazed, he didn't show it.

'Seen a lot of injuries, then. Violent deaths.' He said, as if it was completely normal.

'Well, yes.'

'Bit of trouble too, I bet?'

John had to hold down a shudder. Some of the trouble he had seen before his thirteenth birthday was worse than anything the army could throw at him. 'Of course. Yes. Enough for a lifetime, far too much.'

'Want to see some more?'

Kirjava purred. A feeling of excitement, joy and adrenaline spread down the link from both ends. 'Oh, God, yes.'

Kirjava leaped to the window as John almost ran downstairs. She met him outside the house and jumped on top of the taxi he was getting into. Inside, Sherlock was telling John everything he knew about him. He said about being an army doctor and training at Barts and John sat there and listened. When the 'consulting detective', as he called himself, got onto his wound, that was what he listened to.

'Missing two fingers on your left hand but they've been gone for years, you're used to only having three on one hand. However, your limp's bad when you walk, but you don't ask for a chair when you stand. Like you've forgotten about it, so it's at least partly psychosomatic. That says the original circumstances of the injury were traumatic but the hand suggests you are used to injuries and blood.'

John sat there and listened as Sherlock rambled on about Harry. He got a few things wrong but no one could guess he and Harry didn't get on because their dæmons constantly fought. Especially not Sherlock.

'And then there's your cat.' John had to contain his face when his flatmate said that. 'An old pet, one whose been with you a long time if your attachment is an indication. Not a family pet, completely yours, so she doesn't like strangers. Not old enough to be a childhood pet but to old to be a new purchase. So you got her just before or during the wars. She heavily injured- a limp and scratched shoulder- more so than any ordinary cat. You met her during the war which is why you won't let go of her and why she always returns to you.'

John nodded along and complimented Sherlock's deduction. None of it was true but he now had plausible story for how he met his 'cat'. It would work for anyone new he met but he would have to figure out how to explain to old friends that Kirjava had survived so long. They stepped out of the taxi to be greeted by a scowling woman. Her dæmon, a small chihuahua, growled at Sherlock's eagle but stopped when Kirjava jumped off the taxi, landing next to John with a thud. The chihuahua hid behind his human, glaring at the eagle as if it was her fault.

'Hello freak.'

John froze slightly, Kirjava stopping in her climb up his back. When they realised she wasn't talking to them, they relaxed.

'I'm here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade.' Sherlock said.

'Why?' She bit back, glaring. The chihuahua growled but one look from Kirjava shut her up.

'I was invited.' Sherlock said, as if it should be obvious.

'Why?'

'Think he wants me to take a look.' Sherlock smirked.

'Well you know what I think, don't you?'

'Always Sally.' He stopped, sniffing. 'You nearly didn't make it home last night.'

She floundered for a bit before turning to John. 'Who's this?'

'Colleague of mine, Dr. Watson. Dr. Watson, Sergeant Sally Donovan.' He paused before continuing. 'Old friend.'

She scoffed. 'A colleague? How do you get a colleague? Did he follow you home?'

John sighed, Kirjava wrapping her tail around his arm from her perch on his shoulders. 'Would it be better if I just waited...'

'No!' Sherlock said quickly. John just rolled his eyes and followed Sherlock. He could see why his dæmon didn't like the man. Sherlock insulted a man named Anderson, who had a small lizard dæmon clinging to his suit, insinuated Anderson and Donovan we're having an affair and walked into the building. John was about to follow when Donovan held her hand up.

'Sorry. You can't take that cat in there.'

He glared and Kirjava hissed but they parted. She ran away quickly, out of the rope and towards one of the buildings. He smiled, knowing she would jump from building to building and enter through any open window. With that thought in mind, he entered the crime scene.