All property is theft!

Sherlock had to find out, also the beginning is from one of the Jeremy Brett progs, but I can't remember which case.

Pls review

Jasxx

It was dark and cold in the flat; Sherlock had all the lights off and the windows open. He was huddled in his chair, opposite the fire, his face a picture of calm misery. John had left the flat 6 hours earlier, informing Sherlock he intended to spend the night with Sarah. Sherlock had been bored, and the case he was working on involved a girl frozen to death in her own home, so he'd decided he needed to be cold. Very cold. Previously when high on cocaine he had opened all the windows of his room at The Montague, so he could hear The British Museum sleep. Now he recreated those nights, just for his own amusement, although sadly without the cocaine, not only would John be very disappointed but also for his experiment he had to be sober.

The fevered hammering on his door woke him from his self-absorption, the door unusual had been locked, because whenever Mrs Hudson found him alone experimenting she would fuss, and tonight he couldn't afford to be fussed over. Sherlock ignored the hammering for a few moments, then as it continued, stretched himself and bounded to the door. He threw it open in a dramatic flourish and saw John's young companion of a few nights previously in a state of flushed excitement.

"Mr Holmes I need your help" she panted, though Sherlock's cool eye took in her whole body, she wasn't out of breath, this was an act. "John is in the most awful trouble, he's screaming for you, you have to help."

"What do want me to do?" he asked calm as usual, he knew this girl was acting, he didn't know why, however her eyes were straight and darting so she was genuinely worried, Sherlock's brain started to rebel against it's own conclusions.

"He and Sarah were walking through the park when a black car pulled up dragged them inside and drove off, I'm afraid I lost the car on the Chiswick High Road, please Mr Holmes we must hurry". She grabbed his hand, and tried to pull him out of the door but he stopped her. Her tiny hands were ice cold, but she wasn't dressed for the cold, wearing a loose smock dress, and no coat. She was wearing black Doc Martin Boots, but they had no mud on them despite the cold wet night, and her insistence she had been in Hyde Park.

"I need to know about you, before I go anywhere" Sherlock drawled

"Mr Holmes, please I will answer your questions but let us first find a cab" she begged. Sherlock shrugged, and followed her downstairs.

"I think we should go back to Turnham Green, Mr Holmes. We might be able to work out where they were going from there." He nodded and the cab driver pulled away.

"Go on then, this is your role, my name is Keridwyn, but the rest I think you should try and deduce" she turned to him with a smile.

"Your English is good but you falter over certain words, suggesting it's not your first language. Your name is Celtic, and by the way you use it, it's your real name, so I'd suggest you were Welsh, except that your accent is gentler than the North Welsh I would expect so possibly Patagonian?" She laughed and shook her head "I'm wrong but I'm very close but missing something, so I'll move on. You're following John around, and he knows it." He stopped and grabbed her wrist "Whom are you working for?" he shouted

"John!" she replied exasperated

"John couldn't afford someone to work for him." He stated simply, Keridwyn shook her head.

"My owner has leant me to him for as long as he needs me" she clarified

"Your owner? You're a slave?" she nodded sadly "Your very young, and pretty and obviously not ashamed of your body, but John hasn't been given you for sex." She laughed and nodded

"UST?" she asked Sherlock smirked and continued.

"We obviously both suffer from Dr Sawyers unfortunate ability to keep her legs closed. So you must have something else you can do for him. You've been following him since the first night he moved in with me, don't look surprised I'm very observant. I've also noticed he's quite secretive over his past before the army, so I think whoever your employer is he has something to do with that." She laughed and nodded. "You look about 15, but your clearly not adverse to running around central London at night, and a little too comfortable in your own skin, so you are older than you look."

"So….?" She asked

"You're a lot older than you look, you came to London about 20 years ago, with your current owner. Possibly from another country, but more likely you came here and he enslaved you. Definitely he but he doesn't use you for sex, so either he's gay or married. Your slim but healthy so I'm going to say he's widowed and his wife used to treat you like a daughter, and he's continued that relationship. He leant you to John though, so either he's desperate for John's help, or more likely he likes John and feels he can trust you with him. He trusts John, he's a soldier then, an ex-soldier living in London, and knows the life John and I have so part of London's underground community then. So you're a contact then, you connect John with the underground world, but he doesn't need you for that, I could do that. So, Oh? There's another war, another battle John thinks I don't know about." He stopped as they had arrived at Turnham Green, Sherlock paid the driver, and started walking westwards. Keridwyn hurried after him for a quarter of a mile in silence, before he stopped and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Tell me about John's magic powers." He demanded.

"Mr Holmes, I think if I did, he'd kill me."

The Montague is a little hotel at 15 Montague Street, 15 Montague street was Holme's address before Baker Street. When I used to live in Bloomsbury I used to walk past every day, wondering if Holmes was supposed to have lived in a suite at the hotel or if like 221b it was just a random address Doyle used.