Back in the Game

She stood in front of the mahogany desk and yelled at the British government.

"You want me to do what?! In place of who?! Who did what, and is doing what?!" The twenty year old woman was infuriated, her short, wavy brown hair flung everywhere.

"Someone has to do it and you're the only one I could think that was skilled enough to accomplish this task." The man behind the desk was trying to stay calm as the woman in front of him was freaking out.

"But Mycroft, why?" She plopped in the black leather chair behind her and rubbed her face in her hands. She mentally rejoiced for forgetting to put makeup on that morning, otherwise it would be all over her face at the moment.

"Because they need to know that there is someone out there to help." He paused,"and the stacks at the Scotland Yard are awfully tall." He shrugged and looked out his window. "We, no, I need you to do this. He will be back soon and then you can tell him." The woman looked up at, who was considered the British Government. Her eyes filled with tears ready to fall out. Mycroft went around, knelt down in front of her and gave her a comforting hug. "Rebecca listen," he lifted her chin with his index finger and looked into he pale green eyes,"you can do this."

"When will he be back?" She asked and sniffed.

"One year from now, if nothing goes wrong." He pulled back as the doors to the hall opened and one of his men came in.

"Ms. Hailey?" He asked hands behind his back.

"Yes?" She quickly dried her tears and looked at the young man.

"Phone miss." He stood against the door as the two said goodbye. Rebecca followed the man out and to the nearest phone. She picked it up as he left.

"Hello?..Did he now?..Understood...I'll be there soon." She hung up and set out, for the rest of the day, she was to be around several idiots.

-(&)-

A black cab pulled up to a small shop. Next to this shop was a black door with the address 221 in gold plated numbers. Rebecca Hailey stepped out of this exact cab and walked up to the black door after paying the cabbie. The silver plated knocker was used by a dainty yet calloused hand with smallish fingers. The knock was firm yet gentle and soft, the hand raised after a while to knock again right before the door opened to an older woman with a dish rag slung over her shoulder.

"Oh hello, Rebecca was it? Right up the stairs." She moved aside and Rebecca stepped in.

"Mrs. Hudson, are any of Mr. Holmes belongings still in the flat?" She took a side glance at the the landlady.

"Yes, if you want I ca-," She stopped when Rebecca raised her hand to stop the flustered woman.

"It's fine, just wanted to know." The brunette continued up the stairs to the tidy yet, dusty flat labeled 221B.

-(&)-

"Many cases have been solved by Ms. Hailey, some are calling her the female Sherlock Holmes." The reporter on the tellie said as pictures were being taken of the clearly annoyed detective. Dr. John Hamish Watson was sitting on a chair in his living room and flung his newspaper down on the coffee table. He rubbed his face in his hands and sunk into his chair.

"It's hard enough forgetting about him without someone showing up out of the blue and replacing him." He mumbled into his palms. He looked back at the screen and saw a man that was taking pics of the young detective with his phone. He didn't think anything of it until he walked by one of these gatherings a few days later and saw the same guy asking the reporters questions and the next gathering a few days latter the same guy was holding a foot out as this Ms. Hailey walked by and was tripped.

He'd had enough of the lonely life now.
Time for some more adventure.

-(&)-

John followed this man after the next gathering and ended up at 221 Baker st. after loosing the bloke. He knew this was where Ms. Hailey was staying, but also memories lingered just on the steps. Memories that hurt and tore him up inside. He pushed up enough courage and strength to march up those stairs and use the knocker. He need only stand there for a few moments before it flung open revealing Mrs. Hudson. It would be an understatement to say she was excited. She gave him one of the biggest hugs.

"It's good to see you to." He let her pull away and give him a good look over. "I'm here to see Ms. Hailey." He pulled out his serious face. She nodded and pointed up the stairs. He nodded has thanks and walked up and knocked the door. It swung open and he saw a female, just about as tall as himself, with brown hair.

"Rebecca Hailey?" He said raising an eyebrow.

"Yes?" She looked him up and down, she saw his fading laugh lines and his new worry lines.

"May I come in?" He asked tentatively. Knowing he wouldn't talk until he was safe in the flat she let him in.

"Iraq or Afghanistan?" She asked closing the door behind him.

"Afghanistan," he answered swiftly as he looked over him old home. She nodded and he turned a 180 and held out his hand. " Watson," he stated," John Watson." She shook his hand and offered him a seat. He sat down in his old chair and sank into it but sat up soon after.

"Why are you here again John?" She knew exactly who he was of course and obviously didn't think that a formal line was necessary.

"Well I'm not here to help myself. I'm here to help you." She raised her an eyebrow. All of a sudden the glass broke as a bullet came flying in.

It's target?

Rebecca Hailey.