Once again thank you A-D-E-E-E-R for the lovely review! I've been sick for the past few days so I've had plenty of time to write!

John P.O.V

"They're gone."

"Who, The Holmes's?"

"Yeah, they just took off. They do that."

"Are they coming back?

"Didn't look like it."

"Right ... Yes. Sorry, where am I?

"Brixton."

"Right. Er, d'you know where I could get a cab? It's just, er ... well ... my leg."

"Try the main road."

"Thanks."

"But you're not his friend, he doesn't have friends. So who are you?"

" I'm ... I'm nobody. I just met him."

"Okay, bit of advice then: stay away from that guy."

"Why?"

"You know why he's here? He's not paid or anything. He likes it. He gets off on it. Then a few years ago started bring his daughter with him, poor kid, you know why they moved closer to London? She tried to kill herself, he thought that a different school would fix her but she's never going to be happy until she has a parent who can take care of her. And for And you know what? One day just showing up won't be enough. One day we'll be standing round a body and Sherlock Holmes'll be the one that put it there, and if we're lucky it wont be his daughters."

John didn't like the Donovan, he hadn't known Sherlock or Alice for long but he could tell Sherlock wasn't that sort of person, and Alice wouldn't have tried to kill herself she was fare to happy to be depressed.

"Why would he do that?"

"Because he's a psychopath. And psychopaths get bored, just trust me stay away from Sherlock Holmes.

Back to Alice P.O.V

After about an hour of going threw rubbish dad is lying on the couch, I am slupped on "his" chair when John comes back.

"What are you doing?"

"Nicotine patch. Helps me think."

I should tell dad that you aren't meant to have more then one nicotine patch at once but the truth is I'd rather him have 10 nicotine patch's then the alternative.

"Impossible to sustain a smoking habit in London these days. Bad news for brain work."

"It's good news for breathing."

"Thank you!" I say turning to John,

"I've been trying to tell him that for years."

Maybe John will be useful for more then just a assistant.

"Oh, breathing. Breathing's boring."

I roll my eyes.

"Is that three patches?"

"It's a three-patch problem."

John is starting too look extremely unconformable, I hope dad hasn't scared him off like he did to overweight crisps man.

"Well? You asked me to come. I'm assuming it's important."

"Oh, yeah, of course. Can I borrow your phone?"

"My phone?"

"Don't wanna use mine. Always a chance that the number will be recognised. It's on the website." "Oh yes maybe this criminal will be one of the 4 people who's seen the website." I say with a smirk.

"Alice's got a phone."

"I'm a 13 year old girl, there is no way on earth I am letting my dad use my ohone."

"I was the other side of London!"

"There was no hurry."

"Here."

Dad explains to John about the dead woman's case and how he needs his phone to text the murderer and so on and so on. And it's not for a while that John says something interesting

"Just met a friend of yours."

Friend? Dad doesn't have friends, unless John met overweight crisp man but I don't think he really counts as friends.

"A friend?"

"An enemy."

Oh that explans it.

"Oh. Which one?"

"Your arch-enemy, according to him. Do people have arch-enemies?"

Oh Mycroft.

"Did he offer you money to spy on us?"

"Yes."

"Did you take it?"

"No."

"Pity. We could have split the fee. Think it through next time."

"Who is he?"

"The most dangerous man you've ever met, and not my problem right now."

Then Dad gets John to text the phone and I stop paying attention again until John mentions the case.

"That's ... that's the pink lady's case. That's Jennifer Wilson's case."

"Yes, obviously."

"We didn't kill her!"

"I never said you did."

"Why not? Given the text I just had you send and the fact I that have her case, it's a perfectly logical assumption."

"Maybe John likes us." I say all most daring him to agree.

"Do people usually assume you're the murderer?"

"Now and again." Dad says with a shrug

"Yes" I correct him.

"How did you get this?"

"By looking."

"Where?" And then there was more dad explaining stuff to John so I took this as perfect opportunity to make some tea but I've barley pored it when dad calls out

"come on Alice we're going out!"

"Where are we going?"

I ask pulling my coat on while trying to catch up to dad.

"Northumberland Street's a five-minute walk from here."

"You think he's stupid enough to go there?"

John says, he still seems confused.

"No – I think he's brilliant enough. I love the brilliant ones. They're always so desperate to get caught."

Dad says as we turn the corner.

"Why?"

"Appreciation! Applause! At long last the spotlight. That's the frailty of genius, John: it needs an audience."

"Yeah."

"This is his hunting ground, right here in the heart of the city. Now that we know his victims were abducted, that changes everything. Because all of his victims disappeared from busy streets, crowded places, but nobody saw them go. Think! Who do we trust, even though we don't know them? Who passes unnoticed wherever they go? Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?"

"Dunno. Who?"

"Haven't the faintest. Hungry?"

Oh god I didn't know this outing would involve food, it's not that I'm fat or want to loose wight but, it's just I love the feeling of being hungry, it keeps me grounded and able to focus.

As we enter the restaurant I desperately think of an excuse that dad would buy.

"Twenty-two Northumberland Street. Keep your eyes on it."

"He isn't just gonna ring the doorbell, though, is he? He'd need to be mad."

"Well they have killed 4 people." I swear my only job here is to remind people of things.

" ... Okay."

"Sherlock, Alice!"

Oh so this is Angelos place.

"Anything on the menu, whatever you want, free.! On the house, for you and for your date."

And then all the anxiety of food is gone as I burst out into laughter.

"I'm not his date."

"These two got me off a murder charge."

"This is Angelo."

"Three years ago we successfully proved to Lestrade at the time of a particularly vicious triple murder that Angelo was in a completely different part of town, house-breaking."

"they cleared my name! But for this man, I'd have gone to prison."

"You did go to prison, Angelo." once again reminding someone of something.

"I'll get a candle for the table. It's more romantic."

"Who brings their daughter on a date?" I call out but Angelo ignores me.

"You may as well eat. We might have a long wait, Alice what would you like?"

"Nothing dad, I ate before we left remember?"

"Mmm."

Dad seems to preoccupied by this case to pay too much attention to me, witch is all ways good for me, unluckily John is a bit more observant, he gives me this look, as if he wants to say something, but before he can Angelo comes back to take Johns order, her orders a small salad.

"A glass of orange juice for me please Angelo."

See people with eating problems don't drink juice.

"You know people don't have arch-enemies."

Yes John because dad is so normal.

"I'm sorry?"

"In real life. There are no arch-enemies in real life. Doesn't happen."

"Doesn't it? Sounds a bit dull."

"So who did I meet?"

"What do real people have, then, in their 'real lives'?"

"Friends; people they know; people they like; people they don't like ... Girlfriends, boyfriends ..."

"Yes, well, as I was saying – dull."

"You don't have a girlfriend, then?"

"Girlfriend? No, not really my area."

"What about Alice's mother?"

"Died when I was 2."

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't be, I barley even remember her."

"Do either of you have a boyfriend then?"

I burst out in laughter "Go no."

"Sherlock, it's fine, by the way."

"know it's fine."

"So you've got a boyfriend then?"

"No."

"Right. Okay. You're unattached. Like me, fine, good."

"John, um ... I think you should know that I consider myself married to my work, and while I'm flattered by your interest, I'm really not looking for any ..."

Oh god dad no.

"No. No, I'm not asking. No. I'm just saying, it's all fine."

"Good. Thank you."

"Look across the street. Taxi. Stopped. Nobody getting in, and nobody getting out. Why a taxi? Oh, that's clever. Is it clever? Why is it clever?"

"That's him?"

"Or her!"

"Don't stare!"

"Dad you're staring!"

"We can't all stare."

And then we're out, running and searching, and all most getting hit by cars.

"I've got the cab number."

"Good for you."

"Right turn, one way, roadworks, traffic lights, bus lane, pedestrian crossing, left turn only, traffic lights. ALTERNATIVE ROUTE" And then more running with dad, and John.

"Come on. We're losing him!"

And then we find it, the cap.

"Police! Open her up!"

And we open the door, but it's not him.

"No. Teeth, tan: what – Californian? L.A., Santa Monica. Just arrived."

"How can you possibly know that?"

"The luggage." I mean to say it at normal volume but it comes out as a whisper.

"It's probably your first trip to London, right, going by your final destination and the route the cabbie was taking you?"
"Sorry – are you guys the police?" Oh god the poor man.
"Yeah. (He flashes the I.D. badge briefly at the man.) Everything all right?"
"Yeah."
"Welcome to London!"
"Er, any problems, just let us know."
the man nods, politely at John before getting back into the cap and driving away.
"Basically just a cab that happened to slow down."
"Basically."
"Not the murderer."

"Not the murderer, no."
"Wrong country is a pretty good alibi dad." I say with a smile.
"As they go."
"Well that was the most fun I've had in ages."

And it's true I can feel life rushing threw me. I skip down the street in front of dad and John "Welcome to London!" I scream.