A/N: Here it is! As promised!

P.S. The point of view in this fic will tend to jump around a tad, but it won't be too hard to follow. Just thought I'd let you all know!

"John!"

Maybe if I ignore him, he'll go away.

"John!"

Come on, just take a hint already...

"JOHN!"

Well, there goes that idea. I guess I can sleep later.

"WHAT SHERLOCK?"

Suddenly, he bursts through my bedroom door, already dressed.

"There's a case! Let's GO." He starts trifling through my wardrobe, looking for clothes for me to wear.

"Sherlock, I can get dressed by myself. Just leave me be for five minutes and I'll be right down," I say, my voice still heavy with sleep. He flings himself out my bedroom door, and I take that as my cue to get up and start getting ready. If there's a case, I really have no other choice than to get up and go, even if it is four o' clock in the bloody morning.

I'm in desperate need for some coffee. Here we are in St. Barts, waiting for Lestrade to get us clearance and allow us to see whoever we're here to see, and it's half past four in the morning. I'm exhausted. Sherlock, on the other hand, is awfully chipper. He has that same gleam in his eye and look on his face he has before every case. He worries me sometimes.

I tried asking him what Lestrade had told him about the case, but all he shared was that apparently the DI hadn't told him much, except for the fact this case would be a real challenge to Sherlock. Now, of course the consulting detective didn't believe that, but it definitely sparked his interest.

Finally, Lestrade comes into sight and he beckons us to follow. We walk down a few hallways, use the lift to get to a different floor, and finally stop in front of a room. Before we can enter however, Lestrade turns around to face us.

"Now Sherlock, I know how difficult this seems to be to you, but you must go a little easy on her," he says.

"And why should I do that? Sentiment and feelings are irrelevant," Sherlock retorts, with a truly bewildered look on his face.

"This girl... There's really no way of knowing what she's been through. Anything could of happened to her, and it's not like we can just ask her."

"Why not?" I say. Is the mystery girl being uncooperative, or something?

"Because she doesn't remember."

With that, a nurse opens the door, accidentally running straight into Lestrade.

"Oh dear, I'm sorry. Are you with the police?"

"Yes ma'am," he replies. "Can we go in now?"

"Sure, dear."

Me and Sherlock follow him into the room. There's a teenage girl who couldn't be older than 17 sitting on the hospital cot. She stares at us as we enter.

"Who are you?" she asks with an American accent. Interesting.

"We're here to help," I say. "What's your name?" I try to be comforting, because the poor girl looks really distraught.

"I don't know."

"Excuse me?" Okay, now I'm confused.

"I don't know who I am. I'm sorry." She looks as if she's about to burst into tears.

"It's okay, it's okay. We're going to help you."

"No," I hear from behind me. It came from Sherlock.

"What?"

"I won't take this case."

Me and Lestrade glare at him incredulously. "And why the hell not?" Anger is lacing my words now.

"John, how am I supposed to deduce anything about this girl if she can't even remember who she is!?" he says. He's looking at me with that trademark 'you're stupid and I'm not' look.

"So what?" I reply. "We are helping this girl, Sherlock. And that's final."

"I am not one of your subordinates you can just order around, John. I am in no way obligated to take this case."

"I. Don't. Care. We are taking this case, Sherlock. It's about time you grew a heart," I'm really becoming angry now. Maybe it's some kind of paternal instinct.

"John, that is ridiculous. Of course I have a heart. How would I be alive if I didn't possess one?"

Okay. He really worries me sometimes.

I turn my attention back to the girl one the bed. "Listen, we'll do everything we can to help. First, we'll get a picture of you circulating around so we can find your family and discover what your name is. Is that alright with you?" I ask.

"Yes, that's alright with me," she answers.

Lestrade claps his hands together. "Well, alrighty then. Let's get started."

A/N: Okay, I know John seemed kind of pissy back there, but I really take him as the protective father type. I also promise that the next chapters will be longer!

Good? Bad? Awful? Go easy on me! :)