Dear reader, this is just a little thing I have had on my mind for a while and I can already say that it will not be a long story, just a few chapters.

Please review I would greatly appreciate all kinds of feedback that can help me improve my writing.

I do not own Sherlock.

Chapter One

An unexpected turn up

It is awfully quiet at 221B Bakerstreet. John is sitting in the armchair reading the mornings newspaper. Since the case with the hound at Baskerville nothing new had

emerged. Sherlock is bored. His frustration is once again taken out on the wall. But because of an agreement with John it is knives instead off bullets this time.

Apparently normal people found it disturbing with gunshots at two in the morning. The silence is broken by the sound of the doorbell. Sherlock ignores it, he knows

John are going to open if he waits just a moment longer. As the bell rings a second time Sherlock can in the corner of his eyes see how John gets out of the chair. A

little smile plays over his lips, it works every time. Sherlock hear how John opens the door as he aim another knife at the smile's eye.

"You have been SHOOT!" He hears John exclaim from the hallway, surprised by the shout he misses his target with an inch.

"Nice to see you too" A female voice with a tone of discomfort and pain in it replied.

"Sherlock clean off the sofa table!" John shouted as Sherlock could hear him run up the stairs. At the same time as Sherlock swept down some old magazines on the

floor a young woman entered the room. Her hair was dark brown clipped short, reaching just below her ear. She wore dark tight jeans, a black shirt and a light jeans

jacket. Her left arm was pressed against her right shoulder which was soaked in blood. She had deep brown eyes that currently were filled with pain. She lifted her

right hand in greeting when she saw Sherlock.

"Mia" She said before sitting down at the table.

"Sherlock" He had a surprisingly hard time deducing her. She was normal, far too normal. But she was clearly from a military background. John came down carrying a

bag that Sherlock had never seen before.

"Tell me what happened Mia"

"She got mugged, obviously." Sherlock stated in a plain voice. Mia turned her head towards him with astonishment in her face.

"Yes, how did …"

"Oh, he always does that. Now lay down on the table." John commanded.

"Good old John, always making friends with the freaks." She said as she laid down. Sherlock shoot a glance at John who just shook his head in a don't ask way. For

once Sherlock was the one watching in silent amazement as John worked quickly and methodically stitching the open wound back together. As Sherlock observed he

realised that John worked with this wound with a confident shining through his eyes that Sherlock usually had when he knew he had solved a case. This confident can

only come from experience and a lot off it, Sherlock thought. After knowing John for little more than a year he realised that he didn't know much of what had happen

to him during his time in the army. But watching his friend now made him curious.

"Done." Sherlock woke from his line of thought as John wiped off his hands on a towel. Mia slowly sat up on the table, the wound perfectly stitched. She took on a

clean shirt John had got for her, a couple of sizes to big.

"If we are to believe the old Arab we meet in Afghanistan this is hopefully the last time you have to sew me together."

"I surely hope so." John let out a little laugh and Sherlock got a strange feeling inside, he didn't like to feel left out, not understanding fully what was supposed to be

funny. Another thought hit him and he turned to John hoping for a really good explanation.

"Why didn't you just take her to the hospital?" At once the room got awfully quiet and John and Mia looked at each other as if trying to decide what to tell him.

Sherlock was sure that whatever he was told now it would not be the truth.

"Let just say that it is complicated and top secret classified."

"What can be so complicated that it prevents you from going to the emergency?" Sherlock felt more and more left out and even more so he started to wonder if he

really knew who John was. Don't be stupid of course you know who John is, what he has done in the past doesn't change who he is now.

"The fact is that I actually can't tell you." Sherlock could feel how pitiful he looked at the moment. It wasn't that he didn't understand that there were things in Johns

past that he was not allowed to talk about, it was just this feeling that he wasn't trusted enough.

"I understand John it's just that I don't know anything about your time in the army and I started to wonder why we have never talked about it." Sherlock could see

that John actually got surprised.

"The reason we have never talked about it is because you have never asked before." For a moment Sherlock felt sheepish because it was after all true, he had never

asked John about it previously so it wasn't strange that John would assume that he didn't want to know.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. If you actually want to know I can tell you a few stories…"

"You have to tell him about the freaks, they are the most interesting once."

"I think we should start with your story Mia so that we take thing in some sort of order."

"Well I am one of the freaks aren't I?" She said in a teasing voice.

"You certainly are. But first I think we should order some food because I'm starving, will it be fine with chines?" We no one made any objections John went to order

the food and Sherlock brought the plates to the kitchen table. Not even he wanted to eat in the living room until the sofa table had got a good cleaning. When the

food had arrived and they had all taken their place at the table Sherlock had to admit that he looked forward to hear the stories almost like a child longed for the

bedtime story, not that he would ever admit that. And then John started.

I hope you all have enjoyed the first chapter. The next chapters will be written from John's point of view. Once again, please review.