Disclaimer: - I do not own Sherlock Holmes or any of the other characters belonging to Conan-Doyle. Anything else belongs to me.
Helpful Past
She ran through the dark streets desperately trying to escape her presser. Turning down a side street she came to a dead end bordered by a low metal rail on to the Thames. The man chasing her smiled broadly at his trapped victim.
"Come on just give me the bag." He said. She pushed herself up against the railing as he advanced.
"Never. I'd rather die." She yelled. At this his smile widened to show his yellowing teeth.
"Then so be it. I will get the bag from your cold, dead body." He answered. Realising that he ment what he said she cringed. Thoughts ran through her head. Knowing that her only salvation lay behind her she pushed her self against the rails, over balanced and fell into the river.
The shock of the cold water made her gasp and she inhaled the dirty river water. Letting the water carry her down river she concentrated on keeping herself afloat. Soon the river deposited her on its muddy sores and she relaxed. Her clothes were so wet that she had trouble pulling herself away from the bank. When she was far enough away she dropped to the floor exhausted and fell asleep.
She awoke to a swaying movement. Opening her eyes slightly she saw that she was sat opposite a man in a dark coat. Next to her she felt some warm presence. Felling that she was at least for the moment safe she let herself drift of to sleep again.
When she woke next she was still. She lay on a soft bed and was covered with a heavy blanket. Pushing it aside she noticed that she no longer wore her own clothes but a large night-shirt. Starting to panic she got up quickly making her head spin. Sitting still for a moment she heard shouts and the sound of horses hooves on stone from outside. Moving slowly over to the window she was shocked to people wearing Victorian style clothing and that there were horse drawn carriages moving up and down the street. Feeling as if she were going to faint she grabbed hold of the first object that came to hand. Realising to late that it was unstable it fell to the ground.
A few moments later she heard footsteps on stairs. Quickly she picked up the candlestick that was on the unit beside her and hid behind the door. Voices came from outside before the door opened slowly.
"Come out from behind the door, we mean you no ill-intent." A silky, calm voice said. Stepping out from behind the door she still held the candlestick defencively in her hand.
"Who are you and where am I?" She asked. The man moved into the room and then a shorter, stouter man followed him.
"I am Sherlock Holmes and this is my friend and colleague Dr Watson. You are currently in our rooms at Baker Street." Holmes answered.