Things were getting a bit out of sorts lately, she thought as she took a deep breath; slipping her whole body through the doors of the Queen Elizabeth II Conference Center. She didn't like when things got strange, reminded her too much of the past. It reminded her too much of St. Paul/Minneapolis. Opening her deep blue eyes in the dark, she felt a slight sting but after the moment passed she was comfortable again. She stared at the large room, looking ahead she spotted the stairs leading out from the front. It was then a vomit inducing nervousness was creeping up her throat. She had been doing this for years and had never felt like this. Her attitude about this sort of thing had always reined confident; she was the best of the best in her field…maybe that's why he picked her. Again…
But then again, he was rather peculiar himself. She had to tell herself he wasn't looking to destroy her just to accept his proposition. That, and the money was just too much to resist. Alexandria Scott Yates is her name, and thieving, assassination, and hacking was her trade. She pushed her thick black frames onto her nose as she approached the head offices unbeknownst to anyone looking at her fake glasses, she had the map of the place and possible exists showing to her eyes.
The petite redhead was rather unnoticeable in the sea of London Citizens. Small, although a bit curvy with a hint strong muscle, she pretended to be shy and reserved. She never spoken, never flirted (although there were a nice few men she'd like to get to know, in more ways than one), and always worked hard and never made any waves. Her blue eyes and round cheeks made her appear innocent. In her late 20's her wardrobe consisted of normal business attire and she always wore her hair back in a bun, she was always under the radar. She was an intelligent woman although reserved who just moved to London. No friends, no family, hell, even her English accent seemed to have everyone fooled.
Alexandria took a deep breath as she swung open the door to the room in which the display of computers and files had shown. To which her earpiece had started to voice into her ear.
"Did you get in all right?" A male sang into her ear making Alexandria roll her eyes before she pressed her hand to her ear.
"Yes, yes- my god you're worse than Em when it comes to worrying." She chimed quietly as she came to the stop in front of the desk, carefully started to boot up the computer and lock picking the drawers of the file cabinets, even more so to not setting off any alarms.
"I am not! Also for the record I am not wearing the hat."
Alexandria only felt herself mentally sigh, of course he would be like that. Yet, a smile spread on her lips as she chimed back.
"Oh come now, I think it would look cute on you. And Em worked so hard to the point of exhaustion for it to look perfectly pink and flowery. How can you say no to an adorable bundle of Joy? She's only seven." She stated; slowly keeping her hand steady as she pulled the drawer open. The files that she was ordered by Jim; were quite bright compared to the dull light on the desk.
"I'm not wearing it. I'm a hitman, hitmen aren't cute. Jesus one pat on the head and suddenly you're an Uncle." The male barked back making Alexandria suppressing back a good chuckle or two before she injected.
"Admit it you love her, you are wrapped around that little girl's finger and I betcha you are indeed wearing that hat."
"Please. Teasing Sherlock, making the man squirm, now that's something I can't get enough of. Emily, is a little pink obsessed Gremlin. Don't feed that brat after midnight will you." He again growled as Alexandria then laughed loudly, for a moment or two before she whispered.
"Awww how did you know she loved the movie Gremlins?"
"Oh for fuck's sake! Just get the bloody damn files and get back here Red Vixen!"
"Stop calling me that. God, it's bad enough the Media has to make me some sex symbol but coming from you is just even creepier." Alexandria barked as she quickly grabbed the files and hacked into the system, getting all the data that she could. Her small back pack felt like she was carrying a ton as she looked around her trying to remain unnoticed and not appear nervous.
By the time she made it to the door she needed that would lead her to a different exit of the building, her heart was full of anxiety. Using a skeleton card key, she quickly swiped the card and slipped into storage area. On the other side of storage was an emergency exit. She began to sprint towards the door, nervously fiddling with her key to her bike.
'I WON'T go to jail. I WON'T go to jail. I'm the best I'm the best~'
She kept repeating her favorite mantra over and over again to herself as she quickly took off her fake specs and started to fiddle with the wires to deactivate the alarm. After a few unsuccessful attempts, adding up to at least minute or two minutes longer than her record time, she was able to disarm the door's alarm.
"Jesus, Christ of all Saints!" she cried to herself, feeling relieved. By this time she had completely dropped her accent, ready to hop on her bike and drive anywhere to get away from this and go soak in a bath as a treat to herself. Just as she was going to push the door open, she felt someone grab her wrist. Her heart jumping into her throat, she spun around to see the man in the wool overcoat looming over her.
She felt like she was drowning in her own lungs, for only a moment before slipping back into her accent, "Can I help you with anything Hound?" she inquired innocently, making her hand into a fist. "Did the Queen tell you to fetch?"
Alexandria looked up into his eyes as she saw a slight smirk appear on his lips, his reply was of course smugly in a harsh voice, which seemed to tease her. Once again she was within his grasp and she always hated it when he had her like this. His voice rang in her ears and she could feel her blood curdle at that moment.
Curdle or simmer? She couldn't tell…
In that moment, she felt anger surge throughout her body. The damn detective was not going to be the one to take her down today. Or any other day since they had started this Fox and Hound game. She sighed, "See, this is quite annoying wouldn't you agree? How about just letting me go and we both can pretend this didn't happen." She reasoned as the grip on her wrist only tightened making her hiss before she shrugged.
"Well, I tried to be reasonable." With that, she swung her fist up as high as it would go, ultimately connecting with the detective's nose.
She giggled a little, slightly amused but then she noticed him fall to the floor on his knees and she felt sick to her stomach once again. This wasn't supposed to happen but damn if she didn't have a great right hook. She looked to see him writhing in pain before her, blood leaking down his hands.
"I'm sorry…That must have hurt your pretty face." She said quietly, slight shame sneaking its way throughout her body. Although, he was a looming tree man detective, his face was quite perfect and delicate. Like a painting she had stabbed a knife into, ripping its way down a canvas, and completely destroying its beauty and wonder.
"I wasn't really planning to do that but he made me. Don't hate me for it. Tell you what, next time you nearly catch me I'll give you a freebie swing. Until then- tata."
And with that, she slipped out the door and began running as quickly as she could down the street, hoping to disappear into the darkness as she made her way further downtown.
+_____________________________________________________+
"Sherlock?" John called peeling the sweat soaked jumper from his body. The streets of London were deserted of people at the late hour and it seemed summer heat even then was dreadful but John didn't want the sun and had left the clinic early after hours of zero patients. John's eyes found Sherlock's usual black trench and blue scarf hanging by the door an indication he should be home.
"Sherlock?" the doctor called again almost hearing crickets as a response.
He isn't home! That rarely happens!
John thought excitedly looking around the flat in a new light. It was like a theme park! All the things he could do and without hearing the loud complaints of his flat mate. John laughed out loud. Striping off his shoes and socks the ex-soldier strolled through the rooms marveling at the differences he noted.
No strange smells, no complaining, no pouting, no violin music (though he didn't mind that much even at 4 in the morning), no consulting detective's childish demands! John felt like a kid in a candy store! What should he do first? Walk around in his boxers? Cook something? LISTEN TO LOUD MUSIC?!
LOUD MUSIC!
John hurried back into the living room over to the dusty, neglected stereo system. Plugging in his phone John spun the volume dial up radiating Metallica through the speakers. Laughing John spun around playing an air guitar. He could hear nothing but the music in his ears! After several minutes of dancing around the room John jumped on some of the furniture doing fake stage dives for a pretend audience.
If Sherlock were here…
John stopped that thought from forming. No, right now it was his time Sherlock got every other minute of the day! John told himself going back to his head banging feeling bubbling excitement.
And the the bubble turned to worry, it was so early in the morning after all. As much as he was happy Sherlock wasn't around he couldn't have Mrs. Hudson suddenly waking up to loud music that could wake the dead; with careful thought he quickly turned the volume down several notches. There. Loud enough for him and slightly not normal, yet quiet enough for Mrs. Hudson to not die of a heart attack.
An hour later John was sprawled over Sherlock's chair Fleetwood Mac now emulating through the flat with his eyes closed he listened to the music. Out of the corner of his eye John caught sight of a dark figure sitting on the couch. Startled John stumbled barely keeping himself from falling. Sherlock was back and sitting comfortably on the couch his piercing eyes watching John.
The doctor's face burning several shades of red as he scrambled over the coffee table to the stereo ending the noise. A thick silence fell over the room Sherlock continued to stare at him his face completely blank not realizing just how battered his friend's face looked. Slowly easing his way closer to the couch John didn't look at his flat mate mortified what the man has witnessed of his Flatmate's taste in music.
"Sher…lock…I …I…can…explain?" he stammered though he had nothing, couldn't think of a single logical thing that would make the situation any better.
John stood there awkwardly eyes on the floor feeling like a scolded child though no one had spoken. That was until he did a double take, the face indeed looked battered making John quickly went to his friend, his doctor instincts kicking in as he asked in a rushed tone.
"Sherlock? My god what happened to you!?" But before John could do much else Mrs. Hudson was at the door, along with a rather tall lanky man who leaned on his umbrella.
"I'm sorry boys he just... Walked right in." Ms. Hudson apologized before retreating back into her own flat.
And there stood Mycroft.
Snobbish, as he always was, "I don't think you've gotten any better at talking to women, Sherlock." John only glared as he took his seat back down next to Sherlock while Mycroft decided to allow himself in.
