The Pilfered Vixen

Why Always the Cab Drivers?

Here's something I learned rather quickly in London, cabs don't like to stop. So when I ran outside, I half expected to be waiting forever but before I could even wave it down, one of them screeched right onto the curb in front of me.

"Oh wow, yeah great."

As I slid into the seat and shut the door, I spied a few drops of rain hit he window.

"Baker street please."

"A good thing too, miss," The cabbie said, "looks like its just starting to drizzle."

"Oh…yes." I stared at the back of his seat. He sounded Irish; I've always loved Irish people. Their voices are so soft. A light chuckle sounded in front and my face grew pink.

"Sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Not to worry dear, between you and me I think it's cute." he chuckled.

We drove for a while longer in a silence I was desperately trying to keep. Every now and then, the cabbie would look back at me in his mirror and just smile. I would smile back, rather awkwardly before turning my head.

"Ah here we are."

We drove towards a large building that was definitely not 221B and I looked at the cabbie, confused.

"Uh, this isn't-"

"SEB!" the cabbie had opened his window and was now shouting to a man standing on the curb. He looked at the cab and grinned, rushing towards it. He flung the door open and slid in next to me.

"Um, excuse me but what's going on?"

"Any problems Jim?"

"None at all, actually. The little one's been fairly quiet."

"Alright, if you'll excuse me."

As I reached for the door handle, I felt a hand snake around my waist and pull me back roughly. I cried out and the cab sped off down the street. The man from the curb kept me locked in the grip of a right gorilla.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"DAMN IT!"

"Yeesh," muttered the driver. "Got a set of lungs on her, this one."

"Needle, Jim?"

"Right, of course, silly me." Jim reached over to the seat next to him and grabbed a small black case which he handed to Seb.

"Wait, needle?"

"Shhh, darling, it'll only take a second." Jim purred.

"No! What needle!? What the hell is going on?" I struggled in Seb's grip, stomping on his foot and clawing at his chest. But he stayed firm and somehow managed to get the needle out of the case, all the while holding onto me.

He brought my head back so that my neck was exposed and I stared with wide eyes at the size of the needle he brought out.

"Jesus."

"Now, don't move. I'm not really a professional at this."

There was a sharp sting for about two seconds before everything was thrown into darkness.

Narrators POV

"-that's why the swan attacked you, Sherlock."

"I still don't see what the shirt had to do with it."

Sherlock and John had just returned to 221B after a day of catching criminals and tending swans. John went to unlock the door but found it was already open.