As soon as Layla started to calm down a bit, Lestrade pulled back a bit to look at her.

"I will be posting a few of my own men on this place…"

"But doesn't Mycroft have his own security team?"

"A little extra protection never hurts. Besides, it will make me feel loads better."

"Well then…"

Lestrade called his next in command.

"Yeah, Donovan, I would like to have two cars sent over to this address…" he gave her the address, 'I want at least two cars here around the clock until further notice."

"Boss, isn't that the freak's brother's house?"

"That freak's name is Sherlock, and yes."

"What does the British government need with some uniforms sitting outside his house for?"

"HE doesn't. But he has a house guest that could do with some added security. Just make the arrangements yeah."

"Fine." With that Lestrade ended the call before Sgt. Sally Donovan could ask any more questions or say anything else that might be unprofessional.

"Alright, that minor miracle is in place. There will be two police cars sitting on this place around the clock at least for the next few days, longer if we see that there is a need for it. I don't want you to leave this house alone. Matter of fact you are to go nowhere without myself or someone of Mycroft's appointment at all, is that understood."

"Really! What if I need to go to the shops?"

"Higgins is here nearly around the clock. Mycroft pays him quite well. I'm sure if you asked him politely he would be more than happy to get what you might need. But that does not mean send him out on some fool's errand just to get him out of the way."

"Oh. My. God. I'm a grown woman for crying out loud….."

"You're a grown woman with a psycho that's trying to kill her."

Layla just looked at him and backed away looking like, all of the sudden he was a total stranger to her.

"Aw, don't be like that."

"Just trading one prison for another I suppose. Wait, what about if one of your own officers were to escort me somewhere? At least my room here is as big as the flat I have been renting. You should see it….I mean…" She had the sense to look embarrassed, looking down towards the floor. "And it does have running water and electrical. So I suppose I could do worse." She looked like she was ticking ideas off on her fingers as she went down the list, still not really looking at him, not since that crack about seeing her room.

"But what if I want to go see a movie?"

"Wait until I'm off duty and call me. Ordinarily, I would say that having an officer escort you would be a nice solution, but until Mycroft or myself finds out who is behind this, I would like to limit your interaction with the outside world."

"What if it is in the middle of the day, say just after lunch?"

"Call me. I will have Sgt. Donovan take over for a couple of hours."

"You can't leave your duties during your…duty."

"I can say that I am filling in on your security detail. She won't say a word if she knows what's good for her."

"What if…."

"There. Now you can call me 24/7, no matter what." Lestrade had, in the meantime, grabbed her Mycroft issued cell phone and programmed his cell number in there.

Layla just looked at him blinking, like she couldn't believe that he just gave her his number. She bit her lips together as if she was trying to keep herself from saying something she'd be embarrassed over almost immediately.

"Alright. Do you have the passcode for the security alarm here or do you need to get with Mycroft about that?"

"I have it if I need it."

Receiving a text as he finished his thought, Lestrade looked at his phone quickly.

"As a matter of fact, that is his majesty now."

"So what does he want?"

"He was informing me that I had better go home and collect a bag with some clothes and things. Looks like I will be spending the night here for a few nights while he is out of the country on some emergency business. He says he will still have some of his people posted here around the clock as well as the police officers that I will have in place.

So, it looks as though I will be back in a couple of hours. I need to go past the office and see to some paperwork and grab a bag from the house and I will be back. Do you think you'll be alright here until then with Higgins?"

"I have to be, don't I?"

"Would you rather come with me, just to get out for a bit? It will be boring waiting for me at the yard, but at least you'd get some fresh air before you're shut in for the night. I'd say we can pick up some take-away, but Higgins might skin us after he goes through all the trouble of fixing dinner."

Higgins made his way back into the room, 'Hardly Inspector. Master Holmes just called me and told me that you would likely take Miss Adler along and not to expect to have you for dinner. I simply put the things I had prepared in the refrigerator; they will keep for tomorrow." He bowed slightly.

"You're sure it's no trouble?" Layla looked at the man with some hesitation.

"Quite alright madam; I am used to Master Holmes' schedule being ever changing. I'm quite adaptable."

"Feel better? Now we can grab take-away before we come back here. Think about what you might want. Now, go grab a coat. You're not ready for London in the fall."

Lestrade waited as she ran upstairs and grabbed her little red tweed pea coat; it was flared at the hip a bit, and accentuated her shape, and it had a flared hood. Around her neck she was winding a scarf around her neck that made him think of Molly's scarf as far as the size of it, but the color was a stunning electric blue color that was in sharp contrast to the coat she wore. She ran her hands under her hair and pulled a good bit of it from under the scarf, some of the more stubborn bits stayed underneath it though.

"So, you said take-away right? Are there any good Indian places nearby here? I feel like I could murder some right about now."

"Indian it will be then. I will get you some fish and chips for the moment, that will keep you while I'm at the station, and then after, when we're on the way over to my place to get my things, we can put in the order for the Indian food."

"Ooh! Do they still wrap the fish and chips in newspaper?"

"You're such a tourist."

"Shut up and feed me or you'll have to put me in a cell. I'm starving."

Higgins shook his head snickering as DI Lestrade and Miss Adler made their way out of the house, he considered himself lucky that he wouldn't have to be in charge of anything more than just seeing to her needs at the house. She seemed like she might be a challenge otherwise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SH~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Twenty-five minutes later Lestrade parked up at the station, Layla grabbing the bag with the fish and chips in it.

"Can't you wait until we get to my office?"

"Are you serious? I can smell the vinegar through the bag. I think I could eat my portion and yours." She managed to snatch one of the chips out and pop it into her mouth before Lestrade could grab it from her.

She sat back in her seat and gave a happy little sigh, talking to herself, 'Welcome to London Layla."

Lestrade shook his head and laughed, 'Come on girl let's get inside before you catch a chill. And I'll carry the bag of food, thank you very much."

Walking through the bull pen, Lestrade saw the odd looks he was getting from his colleagues; apparently so did Layla.

"Why are they looking at us funny?"

"They probably think you're a suspect or a witness. Don't worry, they don't bite. Much. Except for Sally…and Anderson maybe. Come on this way."

Layla followed him onto his office, sitting in the chair that he had scooted closer to his desk so she could sit her food down and start eating.

"What did you mean by 'Welcome to London'? I thought you'd been here for a couple of months now."

"Yeah. But ever since I was a kid and wanting to come here, part of the whole experience as far as I was concerned was the fish and chips. Well, that, and tall guys with accents." Layla shrugged sheepishly with a coy smile directed at Lestrade.

Returning her smile, Lestrade opened his desk drawer to pull out a file and start on some paperwork, 'What did your parents have to say about you coming to London alone?"

"Nothing. They died when I was a little girl. From the age of six I grew up in the foster care system. I was never permanently adopted, so I aged out. Nobody wanted me, well, not for long anyway. I was homeless for a bit, after aging out. I moved around a bit."

"How did you make the money to move around?"

"You don't want to know." She looked at him slowly over her food wrappings before going back to nibbling and talking.

"I eventually found myself living in Washington D.C. I found a job at this little diner. It wasn't much, but at least I wasn't going hungry. And I could finally afford a tiny little apartment….it was almost comparable to a bedsit really. But I didn't care. I was free. I didn't have to keep my clothes in trash bags anymore. I didn't have to sleep with all of my clothes on at night, worried that someone would come in the middle of the night and steal them otherwise. I didn't have to worry about someone coming in for any reason. It was my own place."

"Didn't you have any family at all?"

"I think I remember some aunts and uncles. I don't really remember much about them; just a couple of family gatherings during the holidays or whatever. When mom and dad died I was taken back to the house and allowed to take some of my clothes and a few other things and that was it. I was shuffled into the foster care system after that. I don't even remember much about the house or my room. I never heard from them again. It's like I said, nobody wanted me.

For a long time, I wondered why. You know….Why didn't my family care for me. After that it was more about why some of the foster families never kept me. But then…"

There was a knock at Lestrade's office door.

"Come in."

"Boss, isn't it bad enough we have to baby-sit the freak and now this? What's going on?"

"First of all, the 'Freak' has a name. It's Sherlock. Secondly, this is the young lady that will be staying with Mycroft while he helps her get some things sorted."

"She the one that needs the minders when his majesty is away?"

"Sally, could you be a little more unprofessional please?"

Layla cleaned her hands off with a napkin, stood and walked over to this Sally person, and extended her hand in preparation for a handshake.

"Layla Adler. Who might you be?"

"This is Sgt. Donovan, Layla."

"Oh yeah, I heard him on the phone with you, I suppose it was you, earlier today. To answer your question….Yes, I am the one that needs the 'minder' while Mycroft Holmes is attending to his business. I have yet to meet his brother, the one you refer to as a 'freak'. However, I would like to ask you to refrain from addressing the younger Mr. Holmes as such in my presence."

"Or what?"

"Please Sgt. Donovan, do not test my loyalty to the elder Holmes."

"You threatening to kill me?"

"Hardly. Threatening to kill a person is beneath me, especially when I am sure that the person is barely worth a moment of my time to begin with. I am merely stating a fact. I formerly worked for the FBI as a cyber-crimes specialist, and am a world class hacker. I could delete you from every record everywhere. Your birth certificate, POOF! Any and all bank accounts, empty. Your driver's license, gone. You would cease to exist. Without proof of your existence, you would never be able to obtain another job….Please don't force me to give you a demonstration. I've only just met you, I would like to have the time and opportunity to change my opinion of you and see if you have any redeeming qualities.

Inspector Lestrade, I will be needing the ladies room. It will give you a moment to speak with your sergeant in private if needs be. I'll be back soon. Don't touch my chips."

With that Layla swept out of the room, leaving her coat sitting over the back of the chair she had occupied.

"Dear lord, she even talks like Holmes a bit. Where did you really find this one?"

"Donovan!"

"Alright, alright; I know, back to work." He watched as Donovan glared in disdain at Layla as the smaller woman came back from her bathroom break.

"Don't worry about Sally. She looks at Sherlock the same way. Her bark is usually worse than her bite." Lestrade reassured Layla when she had gotten back into his office.

"I'm not worried about her. In case you haven't noticed, I have bigger issues than her right now."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SH~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eventually, after Donovan's interruption, things in Lestrade's office calmed down; he got back to his paperwork, and Layla worked on the remainder of her fish and chips.

An hour later, Lestrade was looking at some paperwork and checking out a website that one of the witnesses had mentioned in their statement.

"Bugger!" He slammed his hands down on the desk in frustration.

Layla jumped, nearly choking on some of her chips, 'What's wrong?"

"I'm just having a bit of an issue tracking this website that is listed in this statement."

"Is there a way I can take a look at it? I mean I understand if you're not allowed to do that, because of it being an ongoing case…"

"I probably shouldn't. But without involving Sherlock, this will continue to be an ongoing case at this rate. Here, this is it."

Lestrade showed her the paper that had the website listed on it.

"Oh, I see why. This is 'dark net' stuff. You won't be able to find it the regular way. I would show it to you but…"

"Anything you can offer."

Layla walked over to Lestrade's side of the desk, standing beside where he was seated, leaning over to grab an ink pen to write something down on his desk calendar.

"That's an email address to a friend of mine. When you email him, tell him Annie sent you. He will help you out. He's local to the area around here."

"Why can't you do it? You're right here." Lestrade nearly lost his train of thought when he smelled her shampoo.

"Look. I didn't just move to London on a whim. The last case I worked on in America….I got to close to something. The suspects were sending me warnings. I ignored all of them. My best friend wound up getting butchered to death because of it.

The same day I left her apartment, I went out and bought an entire new wardrobe and wigs…everything I could think of. When I got home, I crammed everything I could into two suitcases and I rearranged my finances as quickly and quietly as possible. Luckily, not long after I had started my work with the FBI I had already managed to have a couple of different savings accounts, including three here in London banks. And I had a small bag of cash that I kept stashed in my apartment….petty cash, ya know for emergencies….like running for your life from international criminals. I had a couple of fake IDs and passports in those identities….sometimes it pays to have friends that are on the other side of the law. That's how I got out of America without being detected….at least it took a lot longer than it would have otherwise.

When you met me on the plane that day all those months ago, that's what was going on. It was the day I discovered my friend, Flavia, dead. I had called the cops, posing as a neighbor…called them from an actual pay-phone no less. Then I took off and never looked back. After my quick packing, I caught a taxi to the airport and caught the earliest flight I could possibly find to London.

I swear I gave you my real name though."

"How could you tell that I wasn't one of the people sent to hunt you down?" He was currently looking Layla directly in the eyes. He didn't even have to look up into her eyes; seated in his desk chair, he was almost entirely eye level with her.

"Those eyes of yours Inspector; they would give you away. You might be mischievous, but I don't think you are a cold blooded killer. I've seen men like that. The gleam in their eyes would send a chill down your spine. The gleam in your eyes does not."

"What does the gleam in my eyes do?"

"What are the public decency laws like here in old London town?" With that Layla backed away from Lestrade carefully, 'Oh, and contact my friend. He might ask you why I've gone radio silent for so long. Tell him nothing. It's not that I don't trust him…I do. But, whoever is hunting me might have eyes and ears on my associates. And going by that logic, if you tell him where I am and why, they might track him down and kill him too. Not only that, but if they have captured him already, it would lead them straight to me. Either way, I'm dead. Just give him something about how you met me through the bureau. I don't know make something up. But, pleas, I'm begging you don't let on that you know anything about what is going on. It's for his safety even more than my own. Just contact him, tell him Annie sent you, and he will help."

"Alright. Whatever you say."

"Thanks." With that, Layla went over and sat down on the sofa that was against one wall of Lestrade's office. Twenty minutes later Lestrade had contacted her associate and asked for his help in regards to the dark net information that he was having trouble locating, letting him know how best to get back in touch. When he looked up from his work, Lestrade saw that Layla had fallen asleep on his couch.

Shaking his head with a smile, Lestrade was just going to let her know that they might as well call it quits for the night, when he received a text alert on his mobile; it was from Donovan. A body had turned up on the banks of the Thames, near Lambeth Bridge. As he finished reading the text, another text alert sounded; Donovan had forwarded a picture message that she received from the officers currently on site. Lestrade couldn't get over the similarities between the victim and the woman currently dozing in his office. He knew regardless of whether or not he took this case he would have to take Layla to the crime scene; Lestrade knew most of his officers and detectives were aces at their jobs, but until Layla's tormentor was caught, he couldn't afford to trust very many people at all.

Walking over to the sofa, Lestrade knelt down, just looking at Layla. He sorely hated the fact that he was going to have to wake her up with the news that a body had been found, the disdain for the task doubled when he thought about the fact that, eventually, she would realize that this case was linked to her own situation; she would know it as soon as she saw any images of the victim, which Lestrade would try to keep from her as much as possible.

He was saved from having to wake her at all when Layla's eyes slowly opened.

"Something's happened hasn't it?" Lestrade could only nod quietly in answer.

"I'm afraid so. I have to go down to the river to supervise the crime scene. Donovan is already on her way down there. Against my better judgement I am taking you with me. With the psycho that is hunting you on the loose I don't want to take more chances than necessary with your safety. Come on. Seems as though you'll get to meet Sherlock after all." Lestrade finished off his statement by sending a text to the detective in question.

"Well then, that's something. I count myself quite lucky today then; bumping into you again, managing to stay alive thus far, and now I get to meet the Sherlock Holmes in the flesh."

"Bumping into me was lucky? How so?"

"Well, for one thing, bumping into you is way better than bumping into my pet psycho."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Besides, now that I have had my fish and chips, the only other thing to scratch off my list, that I'm aware of is a tall British guy. I'm sure you know a few."

"Are you flirting with me?"

"No. I was flirting with you on the plane all those months ago. Besides, you like it. But, we shall have to postpone any dalliance until after we see to this poor soul that has turned up by the river."

"You seem pretty sure of yourself."

"Oh please, if it wasn't for the person hunting me down, you could do worse." Standing she grabbed Lestrade by the lapel of his jacket, 'Come on then, before the imbeciles trample the crime scene."

"Donovan was right, you do have a certain way about you that is quite a lot like Sherlock actually. It borders on downright spooky, so if you don't mind, stop it."

"What's the magic word?"

Lestrade leaned over and whispered something in her ear which caused her to blush straight up to the tops of her ears and tilt her head close to her left shoulder as if she was ticklish.

"Dirty old man,' she could be heard to say on a chuckle as she exited Lestrade's office. Lestrade could only shake his head and smile as he followed her out, all the while wondering what changes the investigation would bring.