Author's Note: Hello dear readers, I wanted to apologize to all of you that I did not update for such a long time. I have to be the laziest person ever. However the exams are over and know it is time to continue. Enjoy!

Quinn's POV

I ran through the streaming rain towards Bakerstreet. Nothing important, I just wanted to switch jobs with a fellow that is living here, goes by the name of "Wiggins". The man who always assigns the jobs for the street children said he'd be the leader of a gang named "Bakerstreet Boys". And I wanted his job.

In the past I had business with some of these street children-gangs, but I never wanted to join one. This way I never have to care about others, smaller ones being hungry or anything. What I mean is, I'm just 13 years of age, too young to play "mom" for a bunch of orphans and I have enough problems on my own. Furthermore, if I'd join a gang at least the leader'd want to know my secrets, and that is nobody's business.

The reason I wanted his job was simple. This way I could make it to another job assignment in time, which could mean a place to stay for the night.

I approached an old cellar level door. On it there were big letters, reading: "Bakerstreet Boys" below was smaller but with a more unpracticed hand written: "KEEP OUT OR BE BITTEN". I gulped. Whatever would bite me when I enter without permission I didn't wish to. I decided to knock, doubtfully.

A small voice was heard in its obviously spookiest tone: "Who wants to disturb my piece?". "My name is Kelly, Quinn Kelly. I want to speak with this ominous Wiggins who's said to be your chief." I answered in my best "I-am-an-angry-irish-guy-from-Whitechapel-so-do-like-I-say"-tone. The little one asked again: "What business do you have with him?". Already on my nerves I answered "The business I have to talk 'bout with 'im 's only our business. 't's professional, so nothing for little lads like you.", yes, the quality of my speech sometimes drops when I'm not in a good mood.

"What business do you mean?" a deeper voice ascended from behind me. I jumped at the sound and huskily turned to it's owner, who was a handsome but dirty young redhead, about two or three years older than myself. For the first few seconds I stammered: "Er, uhm...I-I….A-Are you Wiggins?". He answered calmly, smiling broadly: "Yes, that I am. What do you want? Join us? Why don't you come in and tell me?". "Okay, but I don't want to be bitten.", I tried to make a stern, manly face expression, what only made him laugh.

He knocked at the door and said: "Alf, everything's under control.", then he opened the door took a step in and waved me over: "Come on laddie, don't want you to catch a cold."

I felt myself blush. Shit.

Watson's POV

After I made my friend change we tried together to figure out a plan to find the girl. It was of no use to scam Whitechapel, the girl could be anywhere.

Wherever she is she has to stand up for herself alone or she is in an orphanage. So we decided to split us up. I would go to the different orphanages around London, they have registries so this would be done quickly. Afterward I would pay the local undertakers a visit. Holmes was right, she could be already dead, even if I doubt the undertakers would remind her.

Holmes would visit the local job possibilities for children, for he knew a few people there very well. Also he would alarm the "Bakerstreet Boys" or as he says "Bakerstreet Irregulars", a bunch of street children who would anything for him (if he pays). Last Mrs Hudson would search at the flower markets, we all thought a woman could do this part better as anyone of us.

A few explanations by the Author: The Two and a Half Secrets of Quinn Kelly

Her full name is Quinn Mary Kelly. Quinn means "wise, reasonable", so I thought it would be a good name for Sherlock Holmes' daughter; Mary is after her mother.

She never uses it, because she pretends to be a boy (yes, Quinn goes for boys too) in order to get better paid jobs. This may explain the ending of her POV.

The Second is her being daughter of a victim of Red Jack (or Jack the Ripper). She doesn't want to talk about it (yet).