Three Years Ago

Mycroft Holmes looked at the young woman sitting across from him, glancing her over briefly yet thoroughly enough to notice her faded jeans and plain sweater, her pulled back hair, the dusting of freckles over her nose, her clean face made to look plain and normal; this was a woman who knew how to go unnoticed. And that made her ideal for what he needed. "I assume you read the file," he stated, clasping his hands together as he watched her closely.

Her dark eyes stared back at him blankly, her face void of any feeling. "Sherlock Holmes," she said, her voice light and sweet, "I'm guessing you don't want me to kill him?"

He nearly smirked at the oddity of hearing murder pass so casually from such a pretty girl. She truly was lovely, with her unreadable dark eyes, her even darker hair, her young face that could disarm even the hardest of men with a quirk of her pouty lips; she was the perfect weapon. "Quite the opposite actually," he informed her with a quick smile. "My brother has decided to use his mind to solve crimes, and that has put him in many," he paused thinking of an adequate word, "situations," he said, the proof of his irritations in his sigh. "I would like you to make sure none of them go awry."

He watched as she thought, taking several seconds before her dark eyes returned to his. "You want me to follow him, keep him safe," she said though it was more a question, his only answer was a cocked brow. "And if he isn't?"

"Ensure that he is," he told her, seeing in her eyes she understood the implication and was ready to agree. "You have a limit," he warned. "Two kills a year, there must be a direct tie to Sherlock and they must be of natural causes. Should you exceed it," he said watching her spine straighten as she tensed – the first movement beside her eyes that he noticed, in fact she had previously been entirely still – "well," he said with a smile, "I do not need to tell you the consequence." He was right, there was no need, the proof was in her erect back and clenched hands that she knew very well what would fall on her; she feared it.

He stood and opened the door for her, watching the stiff way in which she got to her feet. "Do not underestimate him, he hardly misses anything," Mycroft said before she left. "And Alice," he said waiting until her eyes were on his once more, "he mustn't know you are watching him."

...

"Alice," Mycroft greeted when she walked into his dining room, taking the seat beside him as she did every Monday evening. "You look lovely, as usual," he told her as he unfolded his napkin and draped it over his lap. He noticed that even though she wore a dress, a rather nice black dress that heels would have suited, she always wore flats; she was prepared to run, no matter the day or time, she was constantly ready.

She immediately reached for the glass of wine one of his servants poured her. "Thank you," she said as uninterested as he had been when he'd complimented her.

They ate quietly for several long moments, hearing nothing more than sound of their forks and knives on plates before Mycroft spoke. "How is he?" he asked, his eyes on his plate as he cut his steak.

She looked away from him dully, neither sentiment nor feelings were welcomed words in the Holmes vocabulary. "He is looking for a flatmate though he continues to frighten away everyone interested," she answered, drinking more of her wine than eating.

"At least eat your vegetables."

Her eyes were surprised when she turned to him though he wasn't paying her any mind. With a heavy sigh she set down her glass and complied.

He dabbed the napkin around his mouth, setting it on the table when he was finished and letting the maid take their dishes and refill her wine before he set a file in front of her.

She glanced through it taking note of the name, occupation, current residence as well as family history. "Yes, John Watson had a meeting with Sherlock, he's viewing the flat tomorrow." She closed the file and looked at Mycroft. "Is he a threat?"

Mycroft smiled though he sighed. "No, not at the moment. If all goes well tomorrow perhaps you will also be watching him." He stared at her now irritated eyes, knowing she found his brother annoying and difficult – and depending on the day quite stupid, for all his intelligence. "You will be getting a raise of course," he assured her though he knew unlike many others it would not appease her.

Nor was he wrong, she downed her fourth glass of wine in a single gulp before turning unhappy brown eyes on him. "What is it you're wanting me to do?" she asked knowing there was always something.

He sat back, grinning slightly, before folding his hands over his middle. "I want to know more about John Watson," he answered.

Alice looked down at Dr. Watson's closed file briefly. "How would you like me to get his files from his therapist."

Mycroft smiled, always pleased she could think for herself; as Sherlock would say, it was dull having to explain everything. But there were some things Alice needed to be told, this was one of them. "After you leave here you will break into her office, unnoticeably," he added to ensure she would take the utmost care, "and take her notes on him." He watched her face nearly seeing the disappointment in her that there would be no contact, no threatening with violence or death; she still had so very much to learn.

He stood as she did. "Always a pleasure, Alice," he said kissing her cheek lightly before watching her as she left. Mycroft woke the next morning to see the journal Emma Thompson kept on John Watson sitting on his nightstand, and he smiled momentarily as he reached for it.

So I have had a lot of ideas for Sherlock stories that I never actually tried writing and this is my first one, so please go easy on me. There's a lot unknown about Alice and it will remain that way, with little hints about who she is, until the boys figure it out. And that will also be when I say where I got the idea for the story because it's kind of a give away. Next chapter will be more her POV through A Study in Pink, and you will see that she is rather intelligent herself. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter even though there's still so much left unsaid, and I hope you will continue reading; and reviews are always helpful in finding inspiration to continue as well as to know what I need to work on. Thank you.