A/N: So... finally, a new chapter!! This one's a little random, I guess, but pretty necessary. Next chapter we'll be getting into the actual "main plot" of the story, Sherlock's main case, so stay tuned!!
This chapter is dedicated to ElOsoDelNieve, who sent me a wonderfully encouraging message and inspired me to get this chapter up here tonight!! THANK YOU!!
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock Holmes, Dr. John Watson, "The Baker Street Irregulars", or Wiggins. I did, however, make up the names and personalities of my other "Baker Street Irregulars", as Wiggins is the only one with a name in the Sherlock Holmes books. So if they happen to coincide with anyone else's "Baker Street Irregulars", please know that was not aware of this and had no intention of using the same names as anyone else. If there are any problems please let me know!! Thank you!
It didn't take long for Jackie Holmes to reach Beckett's Deli, the assumed hiding place of the Baker Street Irregulars. The deli was owned by Mr. Hank Beckett, an elderly man with a thick Cockney accent. It was located in what might have been one of the worst neighborhoods in London, and by the looks of the dark, dingy little corner shop, Jackie wasn't so sure she would even want to go inside, let alone buy meat from the place.
Underneath the deli was a small stable, one that had probably once been the home of Mr. Beckett's prized Arabian horses. But the economy suddenly experienced a sharp decline, and as the money went away, so did the lovely grey horses. By now Mr. Beckett was too old to even make his way down into the barn, so the place had been abandoned for quite some time.
Jackie rounded the corner, carefully walking down the steep decline of the street as it went downwards towards the river. Finally she spotted a small set of stairs leading downwards into what she supposed was the barn, obviously the entrance Mr. Beckett would have taken when feeding his horses after a long day at the shop.
Jackie carefully stepped down onto the first wobbly wooden step, gripping tightly to the stone walls. Trying her best to keep her balance, she made her way down the ten creaky stairs that led to the open door of the stable.
She was just about to peer in when suddenly there was loud cracking noise, and a tiny bullet whizzed past her and ricocheted off the wall. She let out a scream and turned to run back up the stairs as the shooter fired a few more bullets in her direction.
Luckily for her, whoever was firing was not a good aim, so the majority of the bullets hit the walls or the open door, causing them to bounce back inside. Unluckily for her, she was wearing a dress that went almost to her ankles, and of course she just had to trip over the hem and fall flat on her face, sliding back down the stairs.
This was certainly not what she had been expecting. And this was most certainly not the hideout of the Baker Street Irregulars.
As she struggled to get up and crawl up the rest of the stairs, trying her best to stay out of the way of the barrage of bullets ricocheting against the stone walls, she wondered what her uncle would say when she came home, if, of course, she made it home…
This was such a terrible idea. It was the worst idea she had ever had. She mentally cursed herself as she tripped again and felt a sharp pain in her foot, she had obviously twisted an ankle on one of the loose wooden steps…
"Hey, stop!" a voice said suddenly, and the shooting immediately came to a halt. "It's Jacqueline Holmes!"
"Jackie," the girl muttered, groaning and rolling over. She tried her best to catch her breath and then opened her eyes, looking up into the huge grin of none other than Wiggins himself.
"Jackie," he repeated, grabbing her hand and pulling her off the ground. "Hey, sorry about that…"
"Yes, you should be!" Jackie cried in response, shaking off his hand and instead grabbing onto the wall for support. Pain shot through her leg, and she ended up collapsing back down onto the stairs. "What was that for? You could have killed me!"
"Again, sorry," Wiggins said, although much to Jackie's annoyance, the tone of his voice didn't exactly match his apology. "So what brings you to the Fort?"
"The Fort?" Things started coming back into focus as Jackie regained her balance and let go of some of her anger. Wiggins was standing in the doorway of the stable – or "The Fort", as he called it – bright-eyed and grinning. Behind him stood about seven or so boys, peering at her out of the darkness.
"I honestly don't know," she said finally, rubbing her head. She had been asking herself the same question since she left the house.
"Oh well, no matter," Wiggins replied. He then grabbed her arm and half-dragged her inside the barn. "Come on. I'm glad you came, the guys have been dying to meet you!"
It took a few seconds for Jackie's eyes to adjust to the sudden change in lighting as Wiggins pulled her into the dimly lit room. The Fort wasn't very big, probably only slightly larger than her own bedroom on 221 Baker Street. There were a few random pieces of furniture scattered about, including a small wooden table, a few flimsy-looking stools, and a dingy, floral-patterned chaise lounge that Jackie wasn't even sure she wanted to know where the boys found, and they were all centered around a small kerosene lamp that was seated in the middle of the floor.
"Oh, and again, sorry about all the shooting," Wiggins said suddenly as he kneeled on the floor to light the lamp. "We were down by the river and Mack found this fantastic…"
"I don't even want to know," Jackie interrupted, sitting down on one of the more sturdy-looking stools. She leaned over took a careful look at her ankle, but seeing no blood, she figured that it could be taken care of later. "Just don't do it anymore! I swear, if you I would've made it back home and told everyone what you did, you would have never heard the end of it! I would have…"
"I don't even want to know," Wiggins mimicked, grinning. "Now would you stop talking so I can introduce you to everyone?"
Jackie looked around and noticed that the other boys, all as wide-eyed and dirty as Wiggins, had made their way inside. She made a quick count and realized that there were in fact seven of them, and they were all seated around the room looking either tremendously curious or extremely impatient.
"This here is Mack, my second in command," Wiggins began, giving the tall boy next to him a friendly slap on the back. Mack grinned, his dark eyes glowing brightly, and reached out to shake Jackie's hand. He was a few inches shorter than the tall, lanky Wiggins, but was definitely a bit stronger looking.
Mack then turned to a younger boy sitting on the chaise lounge, who stood up and introduced himself as Nate. "I'm his brother," he said proudly, giving Jackie a bright, toothy grin. It was quite obvious, too; Nate looked exactly like a smaller version of his older brother.
"This is Charley," continued Wiggins, referring to a blond-haired boy sitting on a stool across the room, who immediately gave her a friendly smile.
"And this here's Shorty," said Wiggins, motioning towards a brown-haired boy leaning against the wall, who was, as his name implied, quite short.
"He's from Russia, and we don't know how to pronounce his real name," the boy sitting on the stool beside Jackie giggled. Shorty merely grunted and turned away.
"I'm Finn, by the way, and I'm twelve," the boy continued. He had vivid blue eyes and reddish-blond hair, and a bucketful of freckles sprinkled all over his face. He smiled brightly at Jackie and shook her hand, while Wiggins just rolled his eyes.
"Anyway, that over there is Jasper," Wiggins continued, and the dark-haired boy gave a weak attempt at a smile. He had green eyes and extremely pale skin, and looked like he was either completely miserable or extremely sick, although Jackie figured it was a mixture of both.
"And that's Tad," Wiggins said with finality. Tad, a tiny boy in the corner whom Jackie hadn't even noticed at first, gave a small smile. He appeared to be no older than seven, and Jackie immediately felt a wave of pity for the dirty little blond-haired boy.
"And we're the Baker Street Irregulars!" Wiggins proclaimed. "And everyone, obviously this here is Jackie, but I already told you about her."
The other boys nodded, making Jackie feel slightly unnerved. She could practically picture them all sitting around the old kerosene lamp while Wiggins dramatically told the story of his little adventure at 221 Baker Street.
"Nice to meet you all," she said finally. She didn't really know what else to say.
The room was cast into an awkward silence, and all eyes were on Jackie.
"Alright," she said, giving them a half smile and carefully brushing some of her hair out of her eyes. "So… now what?"
And Wiggins just shrugged and gave her a very mischievous smirk that made Jackie wonder yet again why on earth she had gotten herself involved with the Baker Street Irregulars. Because with them, anything could happen. And sometimes that wasn't necessarily a good thing.