["In another world, You'd be the perfect criminal!" Lestrade. I had to do it! I blame it on that line! I totaly do! LiboChan betaed!]

It's a normal day. It's dull and grey and his leg hurts more then ever. They say there's nothing wrong with it, that it's all in his head, but he doesn't listen.

He has to leave London. He can't even imagine it. After dragging his sorry leftovers back from the front line he has to leave. John can barely stand it. Still, London is colder then he remembers, and life has lost it's colours.

What is he suppose to do know?

"Stop! Stop that man! Halt!"

There is shouting and suddenly there is a tall man in a long coat running towards him. After comes a number of other men, two in police uniforms, most in regular suits, and they look like they have been running the double distance.

The man in the dark coat casts a glance over his shoulder and smirks, and John decides to act.

Just as the man passes, the soldier braces himself, then shoves out his cane at the long legs. The tall man falls, hard and flat and in a second John is on top of him, pinning his arms to his back.

"That's as far as you go...!"

A pale grey (or is it blue?) eye stares up at him like he just fell from the sky.

"You caught me...?"

It's more of a question then anything else, and John is almost surprised by the lack of struggle.

"A soldier huh..."

Then, they are swarmed by coppers, so John gets no chance to ask how he knew and the tall man doesn't lift a finger to fight back as he is hauled up on his feet and cuffed. He keeps looking at John, like he has never seen a limp ex-soldier before, and John can't help feeling like the man sees through his very soul.

"Ah! Thank you Mister! You have no idea how much you'v helped! Detective inspector Lestrade. If you could just come with us, we need all the statements we can get against this guy...!"

"Oh yes, of course... I'm doctor Jo..."

The hand he holds out is taken but the rest of his introduction is stopped.

"Don't! Sorry it's just... You don't want that man to know your name. In case he holds a grudge..."

They both glance at the tall dark man, who smirks and almost purrs in response.

"Now now Lestrade. You know it's impossible to keep anything from me."

The DI glares and waves to the others to shove him in a car. John watches them drive away before he asks.

"So, who was that?"

Lestrade looks at him, a sort of "I'm sorry, Santa isn't real" look and he answers.

"That, was Sherlock Holmes. The worst criminal London has ever seen. And I'm sorry, but I think you might have caught his interest."

As thanks for his statement, Lestrade gives him the story.

Nobody really knows where Sherlock Holmes came from. There are a number of Holmes families, but not one will admit he's related.

No wonder really, with his reputation.

It's mostly theft. Clever little games. He deals in drugs too, but not much of it seems to reach the general public. Sherlock has told them to stay away from the school yards. One of his few redeeming traits.

It's not like he needs the money, he has been filthy rich for years if he has any sense for money at all. No, Sherlock does it for the thrill. He plans plans and plots plots. Huge brain and an ego to match.

Then there is the irregulars. That's what they are called, cause not two of them are alike. Most of them are homeless, most of them are kids. Sherlock has them running his errands, and they are loyal to a fault. Any secrets they might have, you'd have to break their teeth to get them out. Lestrade is not that desperate, yet.

He owns London. That's the truth and Lestrade looks a bit relived to be abled to say it out loud. Sherlock Holmes owns this city and there isn't anything they can do about it.

"But you have him!"

"For now. He'll be out before breakfast."

"Who pays his bail?"

"No one pays, he just leaves."

"What?"

Lestrade leans back in his chair and John feels sorry for him. Truly, deeply sorry for this man who's fighting a loosing battle every day of his life.

"He's a lock-picker too boot. No matter how tight security is, he gets out. Regular little MacGyver that one is. Could get out of any prison with a ball point pen and half a shoelace."

John doesn't know what to say, so he just nods and limps out again.

On the way, he passes Sherlock.

The man has his hands cuffed, and six armed guards. He looks like he's strolling through Hyde park.

When their eyes meet, John decides that they are blue, and Sherlock grins and says in a far too normal tone of voice.

"I'll see you soon Dr John Watson."

Then he is gone and John can only wonder how he knew, and how to get out of this mess. Not to mention how he got into it in the first place.

[Comments makes Tai type faster! X3]