Disclaimer: I don't own Alex Rider. I don't own Sherlock Holmes. I don't own John Watson. I don't own John Watson's blog. I also took an idea from Torchwood in "The Deerstalker", but it's hopefully different

File: John

Day One: Meeting Alex Baker

We'd just gotten back from the incident with the bomb in the empty carriage underneath Parliament when we met him. He was so insignificant at the time that both Sherlock and I didn't even give him a second glance. We didn't know how important he'd be.

He was a young man – a teenager, really. He had a handsome face, but one that you'd forget because he'd been so quiet in the shadows. He was tall, around six feet, with short, close-cropped hair. It made him look like a soldier, but he was far too innocent to have served. I looked at him for about a nanosecond, believing I'd never see him again.

Until he showed up in our flat.

Sherlock and I were back at 221 Baker Street, exhausted at the events with the bomb. We just wanted to go to sleep and maybe watch a bit of telly. Well, at least I wanted to. Sherlock probably wanted to microwave body parts or something stupid like that.

We went to sit on the sofa, but found it occupied by the same man we'd seen at the station. He introduced himself as Alex Baker, a friend of Mrs. Hudson who needed a place to live for two weeks.

The next bit was odd. Sherlock (you should know by now that he loves showing off) deduced him, like he would any normal person. And he got it wrong! He said that the boy had been some sort of gang member in the past. Now, Sherlock won't leave the boy alone.

Oh, they're at it again. I'd better stop Sherlock from throwing another eyeball. It's completely disgusting.

Day Two: The Soldier

I am completely and utterly exhausted. I wonder how Sherlock and Alex aren't. They're pacing around our hotel room, muttering absolute nonsense to themselves. I'm the only normal one around here!

I guess I should start at the beginning.

Precisely at five in the morning, when I was still sleeping, Mycroft decided to ring us, insisting that we take a case in Brecon Beacons. After a lot of verbal sparring, Sherlock announced that we were going to Wales.

When Alex found out about the case in Wales, he was insistent on coming. It was a bit suspicious to be honest, but Sherlock was glad to keep the boy around. He was still obsessed with finding out about Alex Baker. He kept springing surprise questions on Alex, hoping that the boy would say something he didn't mean to, but he was quite good at warding off the attacks.

It took us a few hours to get there, but once we did, we went straight to work. Scotland Yard was there too. Sherlock, being himself, just irritably shooed them away.

Sherlock used to test me by asking me what I could deduce. It was Alex's turn this time, seeing as it was his first case with us. I don't think Sherlock expected him to be so bloody intelligent. When he talked, it was like there was a second Sherlock.

I didn't think the world was ready for one Sherlock, much less two.

Day Three: Cub

The man was a soldier, much like me in my earlier days. Alex was right about that, even though the man wasn't wearing a uniform. This raises the question of how this boy had known the man was a soldier. Sherlock obviously jumped onto this fact rather triumphantly.

A high functioning sociopath versus a highly intelligent, prideful boy?

Needless to say, it didn't turn out well and we were thrown out of the morgue.

Who gets thrown out of a morgue?

Well, apparently we did.

Getting thrown out of the morgue and the hospital caused us to run into Sergeant Morrison, an old fellow that seemed to know Alex. Kept calling him "Cub". Another piece of an interesting puzzle.

Anyway, turns out one of the chefs did it. Another mystery solved.

Day Four: Mystery Revealed

I had become fast friends with the enigma himself – Alex Baker. Sherlock still was disgruntled by the fact that he hadn't properly deduced him and went out of his way to solve this unofficial case.

It was only a bit of luck that he managed to get a glimpse into Alex's personal life. We were out to pick up some fish and chips when it happened. Gunshots. Armed men.

Turns out Alex used to be a gang member. Well, sort of. He was an undercover cop. Exciting, innit?

Sherlock still isn't satisfied, but he's let it go for now. Later, the three of us, plus Mary, are going out for dinner. I hope it isn't too awkward.

Day Five: The Deerstalker

God, they're at it again. They're squabbling like long lost brothers, shooting clever words at each other like bullets. They haven't even stopped when Sherlock's clients came in.

One man caught Alex's attention, which in turn, caught Sherlock's attention. The client simply referred to his case as the "Deerstalker", an allusion to Sherlock's famous hat.

It was a simple enough. All over the countryside, the remains of twenty-seven deer had been found on the side of the road, stripped completely of the meat. That wasn't it though.

The killing of the deer had stopped two months previous. However, in the last week, three men, killed in the same way as the deer, showed up on the side of the road. To be honest, it scared the living daylights out of me, but Sherlock took the case.

Curiously enough, Alex decided to come with us again. He avoided our questions like a plague. Suspicious, anyone?

Day Six: The Deerstalker (Part Two)

We got a car as soon as we could, then booked a hotel room. The lady that works there seriously gives me the creeps. She's always waiting around the corner, like she's watching us.

No one else was booked in, so we had the pleasure of using the whole three story building to ourselves.

Sherlock locked himself in his room, muttering something about the meat. How it had all been perfectly stripped from both the deer and the humans.

I left him alone after he retreated into his mind palace. I chose to find Alex instead, but found he was sitting in the corner of his room, muttering quietly into his cellphone.

It's funny. My cellphone says there's no signal.

Day Seven: The Deerstalker (Part Three)

We went out again today to explore the woods a bit. Sherlock reckons that the killer lives out in the woods, hunting for unsuspecting victims.

We found another body – more of a skeleton really. Female, this time. Late forties. According to Sherlock, she was a reporter with lymphoma who loved swimming and was also lactose intolerant. I have no idea how that man comes up with all these things.

That aside, we stumbled upon an old police box. It was odd, but it was a cold case – no leads there. We moved on.

Four more. That's how many other carcasses were found.

They were all unrelated. Three were men and one woman. Each had different personalities, different interests (though it still baffles me how Sherlock can deduce a pile of bones). Nothing connected them.

It looks like Sherlock's Christmas gift has come early. Another long day waits ahead. Night.

Day Eight: The Deerstalker (Part Four)

We visited the town. It was a very quiet town, but there were still a bunch of people wandering about. We questioned some of them, but they all said the same thing: the killings had started a year ago, but whoever was killing didn't come close to the town.

This time, it wasn't just Sherlock who was curious. Both Alex and I knew something fishy was going on.

We returned to the hotel, silent in thought. Sherlock said that he had two ideas. Only two. A good sign that we were nearing the end of the case. He promptly locked himself in his room.

Alex seemed to understand what those two ideas were. It took a bit of convincing to tell me what they were. The two ideas were horrible, and I wish that I'd never heard them. You think you can handle the truth, but once you hear it, you can't. So I won't say anything. I just hope that Alex is wrong…

Day Nine: The Deerstalker (Part Five)

Being woken up in the middle of the night isn't a pleasant experience. It's even more unpleasant when it's a terrified Alex Baker, saying that Sherlock had been taken by someone.

There was a car waiting outside. We could see the headlights through the window. In less than five seconds, I'd laced up my boots, and we were chasing after the car.

I had my spare gun out, ready to shoot the tires of the car, but Alex stopped me. He said that Sherlock needed to get captured in order to solve the mystery. I didn't really care what Sherlock wanted. I had to rescue him.

We lost the car in the matter of minutes, but we knew where it was headed. The town. I recalled Alex's theories and knew that one was right. The one that I had feared the most.

We got there fifteen minutes after the car arrived. Alex was the first to notice the blood drops on the gravel and the sign that someone had been dragged away. It led towards the town house, where I could hear laughter seeping out from within.

It was almost like Alex had done something of the sort before. He led me to a low window, murmuring instructions lowly under his breath. It reminded me of a time in Afghanistan. In the dark, young Alex looked like a commander, giving orders.

Either way, I listened to him. We broke through the windows, climbing in like spiders. The townsmen came at me with butcher knives, but I had my gun handy. They all reeled back with a bullet in their leg.

Alex hadn't had a gun with him, but he fought with amazing speed and grace, finishing off the men with butcher knives as fast as I could shoot.

Sherlock was thankfully mostly unhurt. Maybe a little bit bruised around the face, but relatively unhurt.

The town members were arrested for eight murders and cannibalism.

Another case solved.

Day Ten: The Bank

We got home the next day, still shaken up over the events in the countryside. Alex immediately passed out on the sofa, snoring away like a pig. He had tossed his phone onto the table, not bothering to tell Sherlock off about not touching it.

With Alex asleep, Sherlock got into his phone. I wanted to stay out of it, but curiosity pushed me to explore the boy's phone with Sherlock.

There was only one name in the contact list. RG Bank. The name sent ominous shivers down my back.

Sherlock called the contact, remaining silent when the other person picked up with a frantic, "Alex! What's wrong?"

Whoever that person was, she must have a strong connection with Alex.

Sherlock didn't bother replying. He hung up and we sat there, just staring at the phone. After that, we left the sleeping kid alone in the living room. We talked in hushed tones in the kitchen. I wanted to leave Alex and his personal life alone, but Sherlock was adamant to discover how and why he had deduced Alex incorrectly.

It looks like we're off to find this "RG Bank" tomorrow.

Day Eleven: The Bank (Part Two)

We spent a good part of the day trying to figure out what which bank the RG Bank was. There were tons of small banks with the initials "RG". The River-Green Bank for example. The Red-Gold Bank, the Royersford General Bank, the Royal and General Bank, the Rivet-Gordsbury Bank etc. There were forty-two banks in total within a thirty mile radius. We visited twenty of them today. Another long day ahead tomorrow.

Alex just disappeared today. I thought he would have wanted to tag along. It's funny out things work out. I hope we have the same luck tomorrow.

Day Twelve: The Bank (Part Three)

Our efforts were to no avail. We wasted two whole days chasing down something that wasn't ever truly there.

Sherlock keeps on muttering about one bank in particular – the Royal and General. Says it feels suspicious. Especially with the bloodied up sidewalk. I thought it might have just been an accident, but Sherlock reckons someone was sniped there.

Anyway, that was frustrating. I'm going to go out with Mary.

Day Thirteen: The Bank (Part Four)

I thought that Sherlock would have forgotten the bank by now, but it seems like he's still obsessed over this. He held Alex captive for the day, grilling him on what this bank was to him. I, of course, mostly stayed out of it. It was a bit hard, considering Sherlock was threatening to make Alex into one of his science experiments.

Alex's phone began ringing after Sherlock let him go. There was a brief fight for the phone, which Alex quickly won by shoving his cell out the window.

Lead. Gone.

Furious Sherlock. Someone help me.

Day Fourteen: The Enigma

Historically, the Enigma was used in the Twentieth Century used for enciphering and deciphering secret messages. It was invented at the end of World War One, then used in World War Two. It gave the Allies a huge amount of trouble until they broke the code.

Alex Baker is like the Enigma, just before the code was broken. He sits passively on the sofa as Sherlock paces in front of him, frustrated. It's the first time I've seen him like this.

Alex was simply an enigma – one that Sherlock couldn't solve.

A/N: I did take part of the plot of "the Deerstalker" from Torchwood. Forgive me...

It was hard writing this... This might be the last one for the AR/Sherlock crossovers. Unless I have more inspiration... AND I SHOULD BE WORKING ON MY STORIES. GAH.

-Alice x