Valentina waited punctually on the bridge, but Sherlock was nowhere to be seen. He still had four minutes, thought. The lights in the park created mysterious shadows that could perhaps have played a more susceptible mind, but not hers. She didn't believe in ghosts, spirits or any of those nonsense. That was one other thing she had in common with the famous detective. She smiled, remembering the day they met….

Flash back, three months ago

Wednesday afternoon and the weather had decided to rebel against the prediction of a sunny day by enraging a terrible storm. Mycroft was a regular client and Valentina was very good at her work, so she wasn't surprised when she received Mycroft's call asking for fake papers for his brother. Valentina's clients paid the cost (scandalously expensive) because no one could do what she could. She smiled when the doorbell rang, knowing who to expect.

Sherlock Holmes was soaking wet, wearing just a pair of Bermudas and a polo blue shirt. He didn't look like she had imagined, but the sparkle of intelligence on his blue cold eyes convinced her there was more than just the first impression.

"Come in." she ordered dryly, stepping aside so he could enter.

"Peculiar…very, very peculiar." Sherlock mumbled as he shook up the excess of water off his cloths, nit caring to make a mess on the carpet.

Valentina frowned. "Excuse me?"

The sparkle in Sherlock's eyes brightened and he looked almost exited. "You must be Bunny, my contact for the papers I need."

"Right." She nodded, shifting her weight awkwardly. "Now that I know you are who you say you are, we can leave the code names. My real name is Valentina."

"Who says I'm the one I say I am?" Sherlock interrupted her, taking a discrete look around the humble house. "You let me into your house…"

"Your chin. Your chin had a very similar bone structure to your brother's. your hair is most likely exactly like your father's." Valentina rolled her eyes as she talked in a calmed monothone pace. "You have loosen weight, exactly three ponds, but you still look like the pictures on the news." Sherlock's eyes widened, but other than that, he revealed no emotion. "You have a scar on your lip, most likely produced by a direct fist hit. Your eyes, your only not directly inherited trait, come from your great grandmother, who.."

"How?" Sherlock questioned abruptly, interrupting the girl's monologue. It was weird, like he wasn't used to having to ask questions instead of just knowing the answers. "How?" he repeated, tasting the bitterness of ignorance on his mouth for a few seconds.

Valentina blinked twice before answering. Her green eyes looked curiously at the detective. "Well, that's my talent. I remember every face I have ever seen. Every trail, every outfit, every scar…that's why I'm so good at my job." Valentina smiled proudly "when I was thirthteen I developed a software, the only one of its kind, capable of reproducing every face and every possible combination of traits. I can recreate a face or invent a new person if I want to"

"Thirteen?" Sherlock raised his eyebrow obviously impressed.

"Well, I had lost of free time." Valentina concluded.

"no, you didn't." Sherlock smirked. "With your mother's sickness, you had to take care of her and hide from the authorities. You had to drop out of school precisely because of the lack of time for your activities. Your computers, your talent…that was you're only escape." Sherlock spoke on a cold and robotic voice but every word of truth stained on Valentina's heart. She tried it not to show a lot. "But that doesn't make your accomplishment any less remarkable.."

Valentina nodded simply and started climbing up the stairs, Sherlock took the hint and followed her.

The superior floor was completely different to the rest of the house. Every space of the wall was covered either with a computer screen or a keyboard, forming a complete network that connected every single space on the place. Valentina sat down and started typing codes into the computers and Sherlock began questioning her.

"So..Aspenger?" he slide in casually, like he had asked her about the either.

"Valentina smiled, with her eyes still fixed on the computer "Well, I've never been diagnosticated, but yes, I think that's it."

"Boyfriend?"

"No." Valentina's voice then turned a bit more bitter. "I'm not good with people."

"Neither am I." Sherlock started pacing around and touching everything, but she didn't seemed to mind. "You're good with your mom."

"Because I have to. I take care of her because…it seems fair enough. She took care of my when I was little right?" Valentina sighted as a virtual image of the detective appeared on the screen. It looked exactly like him, but it wasn´t a photograph but an image designed from Valentina's observation.

"How did you knew about my mom?" Sherlock kept asking questions as the girl modified and copied his image into different papers. One by one his passport, driving license…etc.

"I saw a picture of your family on Mycroft's office. It was like a family bloodline or something like that…"

"Mycroft hid it as soon as you spotted it. You could only have seen the image a few seconds.." Sherlock deduced.

"I'm that good." Valentina smiled.

An hour later, the documents were printed out and Sherlock stood outside the teenagers house.

"I'm guessing that Mycroft already paid you." Sherlock awkwardly suggested, but the girl nodded.

"I should get going then." He stated and then added, "Your mom is probably about to wake u.."

"Valentina!" A loud and hysterical cry interrupted the conversation. The girl rolled her eyes.

"It was nice to talk to some that…understands." She was not great at expressing her emotions either.

"Here's my number." Sherlock gave her a small paper with a terrible handwrite. "You might find it useful one day."

Valentina looked at the number for a few seconds and then back to Sherlock. Then she did something completely unexpected. She leaned and kissed Sherlock's mouth corner. "Take care Sherlock. " she whispered and then closed the door.

Sherlock touched his cheek delicately. The coldness he felt had nothing to do with the chilly September air.

Back on the present day

But Valentina wasn´t alone, in fact, she had never been alone. Santiago remembered the day that he heard that there was an English man who hired homeless people as informants; being only twenty but with a severe crack addiction, made him the perfect candidate for two reasons: lot's of contacts and a desperate need for money.

They met on a coffee shop about a month ago..

He turned to be a skinny and tall pale man with little blue eyes. Santiago wondered if the rumors were real, because the man didn't looked like someone who hanged around with the homeless. He was about to turn around and leave when he spotted him.

"Sit down," the man ordered.

Santiago looked at him firmly but didn't obeyed because his pride keep him from trusting the man. The stranger rolled his eyes and added "sit kid, we both know you could use the money"

Santiago doubted for a few seconds but finally his curiosity beat him and he took a seat across the table with a defensive attitude. He had never liked being told what to do…in fact, that's why he left his home.

"So, how much?" the young man questioned the stranger, who smirked.

"You're not even going to ask what kind of favors I need?

What did he meant? Oh. God! He was one of "those" People had warned Santiago about those rich fellows who tried to abuse some drug addict or hoe for sex favors, but he didn't looked like that #type. Santiago felt suddenly repulsed

And then the man laughed, something that looked off character on him. It was a cold and short laugh, almost like he repressed it before it was through. "It's not that kind of favor." The man read his thoughts "You're obviously straight and so am I, in case you wondered."

"So if it's not that?"

The man sighted. "I need you to look after someone. A girl. She's been hanging out with some dangerous contacts and I fear for her." The mad handed Santiago an envelope. "Here is her picture and her data. Her name is Valentina."

Santiago meditated for a few seconds. E certainly needed the money, but this job seemed to easy to be true. Maybe even dangerous. "Why me?"

"You're young; on your 20. You have a strong constitution, defensive wound on both of your fist and trails of a recent fight which you obviously won. You don't have any tattoos or scarst that could be identifiable or rememberable, your military coat, your haircut and your combat boots repress the repressed dream of your childhood enlisting on the army. Maybe your father was a military, because the batch on your chest is certainly not yours." The stranger talked with a cold and monotone voice but there was a sparkle of excitement as he analyzed Santiago. When he ended, Santiago had only one question.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Sherlock Holmes."

Hi! I know that was a bit long, but I needed to set some background for my character! I hope you liked her and I promise this will be eventually Molly/ Sherlock, but a little jealousy is always good, right? Nest chapter all about molly and John, promise!

PD. Kind of cliffhanger on Sherlock current status, but hey, I'll keep it interesting!