She crouched looking down disgustedly at the rectangle at her feet. He gestured for her to go in first, keeping an eye out for any pursuers that could have come up to the rooftop.
"Do we have to go down this way?" she whined looking at him as he put down the black bag he was carried, eyes fixed on a point a roof or two away.
"Yes," he whispered not looking away from the point and drawing out pieces of a gun and started assembling them with the practiced ease of an assassin. "We can't kill everyone in there you know, some of them are still so young and naïve. And then there are those who can think, and he said that one death should be enough to stop their operation."
"I know that, but the vents, really?"
"Yes," he slithered to the wall and set the rifle down, breathe in, breathe out, zip. A figure fell on a neighboring balcony the static of a walkie-talkie reached their ears as he finished disassembling the gun.
"Move it," he said darkly, "or he'll have us skinned. He doesn't like unnecessary killing."
"Nor do I," she whispered under her breath as she sank into the metal tube.
They crawled as silently as their equipment would allow through the miles of ventilation using ropes and spider like strength scuttling down the mesh works and around the building eventually reaching the room they'd been assigned to.
They jumped down into their room looping the cameras to repeat the footage they had recorded the day before. But she hadn't been there, she'd been behind her computers and communication units giving orders and hacking into all of the information and secrets that they had. Turns out there weren't that many secrets. At least to them, the public would be shocked to know what they considered basic knowledge. Then again working for most of the British government did things like that to you.
"I need the screwdriver," she said her open palm facing the general direction of him, her body absolutely still and eyes trained on the painting in the corner of the room. A yellow trail of paint covered his eyes, blinding him and obscuring the face beneath. She pointed the oddly shaped screwdriver at the wall, pressed a button and it glowed a sickly green as it buzzed and spluttered.
"You really need to return that," he said looking a little scared by the way she whipped around and glared at him.
"No," she said stubbornly, "not until he comes and picks it up himself." She turned the other way and flipped the glowing bit up, exposing countless wires and electrical panels.
"They're here," she said lowly, turning around quickly, her eyes snapping open as a statue of an angel appeared in behind him, a voice rang out across the room, echoing from the depths of the earth.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" a man with pure black eyes appeared next to the man who had spoken. His gold irises flickering in the poor electrical lighting.
"Oh just the basics," a voice called from behind the painting. It swung on hinges and a man with an oddly colored bowtie stepped out snatching the screwdriver from her hand. "That's mine," he said annoyed at the state of his sonic. "I'm the Doctor, in case any of you angels would like to run now."
"Well, we'll just be leaving now," the assassin said inching to the door. The 'Doctor' closed it with a flick of the sonic which had returned to its vibrant green glow.
"Merlin's beard Doctor! You had one job. And now were going to have to fight," she said pulling an oddly shaped stick out of her sleeve. The boy with her also pulled one out. Flourishing it he almost caught his robe on fire.
"Seamus," the girl sighed, "How many times have I told you? Dramatics is for big killings, not small stuff like this."
"Well Luna, I'd say about three times."
"What about Budapest?"
"You and I remember Budapest very differently. But then at least ten or twenty."
"What happened in Budapest?" a figure asked, appearing from the shadows. His curly black hair and sharp features gave him away. Sherlock bloody Holmes had found them. What was happening to their lives? Other than the fact that they would be turned into shoes after this.
"Luna, we'd better do what we need to and get out," Seamus said looking at the figures in the room who glared at one another from some previous row they'd had when last meeting.
"Fine," Luna said as she dug a golden timeturner out of her robes and looped it around both of them.
"Let your power shine, make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine, heal what has been hurt, change the fate's design, make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine," she chanted under her breath disappearing from the room.
"Thirty minutes," she called to Seamus as he deposited the pills in their appropriate cases and glasses.
"Now we just have to get out of here," Luna said relieved as the pills dissolved and left the water as crystal clear as tap water could get in London at this time.
"Who are you?" a man in shiny silver mail with a dark haired, large eared boy trailing behind him. "What has my kingdom turned to? Merlin, go and fetch me a glass of water." The boy left to the room they had just exited and the two timetravelers shared a glance, Merlin returned with a strange glowing in his irises as he handed the cup to the man in the armor. Merlin glared at the two standing opposite of them to find Seamus spinning in a circle and disapperating with a 'pop'. The girl who was with him was nowhere to be seen.
"Strange company you keep in the 26th century Merlin. What's that police box doing here?"