The Misfits Of Bakerstreet

"We are the ones Mr. Holmes calls when he can't sneak that far. We are the ones he calls when he can't do it. We are the Homeless Network. We are the Bakerstreet Irregulars." That was what I was told, but what I was not told about was the thieves, murderers, and monsters (oh my!!) and now I've been dragged in it. Then there's the totally different and equally difficult Mr. Sherlock Holmes. How will I ever survive this?


4. On Case

Bang bang bang

Bang bang bang

Bang bang

My eyes slowly fluttered open and a soft groan seeped out of my lips followed by a yawn.

"Mr. 'Olmes wants ya!" Shouted a voice near the opening of the room. I raised up on my elbows as a loud whoop echoed. Tony hopped up, ruffling his hair.

"Thank you, dear sir," he said to the small boy in the doorway. He nodded with a wide eyed look before scuttling away. I stumbled up in confusion as the older boy (Carl, was it?) grasped me hand and yanked me towards the door, shoving me out.

"We need to go fast," Nathan said, appearing on one side.

"What about breakfast?" I asked, looking over my shoulder as everyone else tumbled out.

"Not important." Tony stated, appearing on my other side.


"Mr. Holmes wants us. And it's a bloody miracle he ever does."

We arrived at 221B Baker Street at an ungodly hour in the morning- as beautiful as the sunrise is, I don't really wish to see it all that much. Holmes stuck his head around the doorway before we could get all the way onto the front porch.

"You wanted us," Tony said with a deep bow. What the heck.

"I did," Mr. Holmes whispered, stepping out and closing the door softly behind him with a slight sniff. He had changed out of his blue bathrobe and was now in what seemed to be a trench coat. Though the sun was just blooming, heat was already seeping into the world. The trench coat was obviously not for the cold.

"I have gotten a case," he told us, a smile lighting his lips. "A new case, a beautiful case, a case that I shall close within minute- seconds, I tell you." He sighed.

"Despite the time of closing this case, however, I do in fact... Want you." Even Nathan seemed to be getting excited, and only Sarah Lee seemed uninterested, snapping her gum that she got who knows how long ago, twirling her hair between her fingertips. Mr. Holmes eyes glanced over at her with an annoyed look and then his eyes lit upon my face. He gave me a quick wink and twirled a scarf on his neck.

"Shall we solve a case?" He asked us softly. He hushed us to keep us from cheering, nodding towards a darkened window, mouthing the words 'sleeping in'.

What time did this guy wake up?

We showed up at the scene shortly after the ungodly hour had finished, the hour was now 'who-the-crap-would-be-walking-around-at-this-hour', not to be mistaken for the next hour after this, which was the hour of 'why-am-i-awake'. I practically rolled out of the taxi, followed by Mr.Holmes who majestically stepped out with grace, his coat flapping behind him in the morning breeze. We stood at the edge of a dock, with water that lapped at the edge of it. I shuddered. I hated the ocean. Reaching it's gloomy green fingers upwards trying to snatch me away.

"Can't swim?" The tall man muttered down at me. It was phrased like a question but it seemed more like a statement. I shrugged as Sarah Lee giggled. I glowered at her and turned on my heels, looking up at Holmes and waiting for him to say what we doing. He crossed his arms and stood waiting. The sound of sirens whipped through the air and he grinned. The police car pulled beside us as a man with salt and pepper hair got out.

"Sherlock?" He said. First name I assume.

"Grant," he said back.

"It's Greg." The man said with a groan- it must be an often reminder. Holmes shrugged.

"I've heard it both ways." He said. 'Greg' stared at him for a few seconds.

"No you haven't." 'Greg' said. Holmes shrugged again.

"So, why are we here?" He asked him.

"Oh, don't play dumb," the police officer sighed. "I know you're here for the latest call, I'm not even going to ask how you already knew-"

"I did it." I quickly looked over at him, and I almost believed him. Greg looked like he might too.

"I'm kidding." Holmes said with a loud laugh.

"That's not funny," Greg hissed. They turned their attention on what looked like a watered down clown floating in the waters, it's orange hair waving around him in a pool of white makeup and red lips. Two of my fears in one. I'm talking about the clown, not it being a dead body, those actually made me less afraid than just the thought of clowns.

"Excuse me?" I whispered to the police officer as he stood making notes by his car as Holmes frolicked about with joy.

"Were you not surprised about Mr. Holmes killing someone?" It was a question that had grown in my mind. Greg snorted.

"More like absolutely terrified," he said, snapping shut the notebook. 'Lestrade' read on it in gold letters. Must be his last name.

We were spread out. It was now the 'why-am-I-awake' hour. Holmes sent me off with Sam to sneak about in the circus in the clown tent- wonderful- and the others were to wander about the dock or other tents that seemed less terrifying. Just my luck, right?

"I. Hate. Clowns." I said to myself. Sam heard me and squealed.

"Clowns are so cute!" She giggled. Dang child does not understand the horrors.

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