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Once again, I'm properly terrified that my writing would be horrible, or that I'd mess the spelling/pick wrong words… So I'm desperately looking for a beta for my later chapters! *please, please, please, can you help?*

Please review and tell me if anything's wrong or just if you like it, that'd be lovely =)

Thanks for reading =)

Chapter 4. Getting to know you

Meanwhile, Watson was desperately trying to keep on Holmes' pace. His friend was hyperactive every time he was on the track. First of all they went questioning the maid who found the body, then two porters who had been in service that night, and finally they got out the hotel and were heading to Baker Street. It was the best moment to ask questions.

"Do you have any idea of that kid's whereabouts?"

"He's obviously with the killer." Sherlock was still thinking.

"Right…"

Abruptly, Holmes snapped out of his brainwork: "I need to know more about Mercier's threats."

"Then just ask this French girl about it."

"No."

"Why not?" John was surprised at the tone used in this simple rejection. He wondered if Sherlock could possibly be jealous of the young woman.

"She's not as clean as she pretends to be."

"Aren't you a little bit too suspicious? By the way, she resembles you …"

Now he got Sherlock's full attention: "What are you talking about?"

Slightly amused, he explained: "You're working the same way… You're finishing each other's phrases! And just physically, she looks somewhat like you… I mean, I've never dreamt of seeing a female version of Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock looked childishly grave: "Does it look like that to you? I didn't get this feeling at all. She makes me think of someone I can't remember and it's annoying."

"Well, it's just an impression, isn't it?" Watson tried to cheer up his friend while they were paying for the cab and getting in 221b Baker Street. But there was a surprise awaiting them upstairs.

"Oh, hello, so that's where you live?"

"What. Are. YOU. Doing. Here?" Holmes yapped.

"I brought you my files on Mercier. Want to take a look?"

Vexed, Consultant Detective played deaf and disappeared in the kitchen. Soon the clatter of his lab equipment being set up arose from the half-closed door. That didn't disturb the French girl; she just smiled and gazed at Dr Watson, holding a thick file out to him.

"John?"

Positively charmed, he couldn't resist. After handing the file to John, Miss Sorrel looked around the room, very curious. The living room was a real mess, since no one cared to tidy up after both residents left in a hurry.

"Are you always so disorganized? I guess it's not convenient for your job."

Sherlock reappeared and muttered in response to her remark: "What would you know?"

"Not so much."

While they were arguing, Watson skimmed through the police file. Something bothered him in there.

"Wait a minute… Shouldn't these data be in French?"

"Oh, that! I translated it in case my British colleagues would need it."

"How kind of you" Holmes said sarcastically. He crossed the room and pretended to be storing documents lying around the table.

She took a deep breath, probably trying to not get irritated. "I like your methods, you know. Teach me."

John choked when she walked straight to Sherlock, with an inquisitive look, frail and determinate. As the Great Detective still faked to be extremely busy, she simply talked to his back: "I want to learn from you."

That must have flattered Holmes' ego, but surprisingly enough he withstood the temptation of being worshiped. This girl was so unusual, so different from ordinary people, and it was disturbing. He never liked to be puzzled, especially when the right answer was floating on borders of his mind. With a solemn face, he forced himself to turn around and to say gravely: "No way."

She didn't look upset or anything, even her voice didn't change: "Pity." Sorrel turned away and headed towards the staircase. Sherlock seemed relieved while John stayed in a daze. Suddenly, she changed her mind. She glanced at both of them over her shoulder with a snooty smile: "By the way, I met someone you know. A breath-taking woman! She taught me… lots of things. About you."

All the time she talked, Sherlock went pale, but fortunately Watson's attention was focused on the young woman, otherwise he could have started observing and eventually finding out about Irene's real fate. 'Cause this French kid has obviously met The Woman after her official death.

"Well then…"

Her showy leaving was stopped by a sharp and pressing call.

"Remind me your name."

"Rita. Rita Sorrel" she said with a sad smile, not looking at any of them.

"You may come in handy" Sherlock announced before sitting in his favorite chair and drowning in his thoughts.

Surprised, Rita and John stared at him, then at each other. She displayed a beaming smile, somehow reminding Holmes' grin at moments he gets a really tricky case. She even faintly jumped for joy.

"Why do I feel like I missed something?" John asked, still gripping to the police file.

"It's a secret" she said and winked like a high school girl.