A/N: WARNING - this story features quite a regular use of the 'f-word'

Inclined to Murder

Melissa Brook lounged on her sofa, a glass of water held in the hand hanging off the side, a pen held with the other in front of her. She was twisting the pen, focusing on it quite intently as she did so, as she swirled the water with the other hand. The only thing in the room was the sofa, sat in the center of the room, to allow her to face the window as she lay there.

The room seemed to be at peace, save the loud violin playing streaming from the flat above, though, at the moment, Melissa didn't seem overly bothered. She was far too focused on the task of twirling the pen with her perfectly manicured fingers.

Then, without a hint of any other outward change, she moved her hand and dropped the pen over the back of the sofa, redirecting her attention to the ceiling.

It appeared that she was not ignoring the violin playing as much as she'd been aiming to.

It took a few more seconds before she sat up, swinging her legs and taking a drink of the water.

God, if she was so inclined, she would kill that fucker.

Melissa Brook set the glass on the floor and stood, moving to slip into her heels.

She had business to do.

Grabbing her coat, she moved towards the door just as her phone buzzed with a new text, and she glanced at it, pulling it from her back pocket. It didn't matter that there was no record of the number; she knew exactly who was texting her.

You're late. -J

She sighed.

You're early. I'm never late.

And I'm never early.

You're always early, you just refuse to admit it.

Just hurry.

Impatient, are you?

Please.

Good boy.

She slipped the phone back into her pocket, readjusted the bracelet on her wrist, and left her basement flat. As there always was, a car was waiting on the street for her.

And now, standing at the upper window of the building she'd just left, was the man playing that infernal violin.

~M~

It was not until the next morning that Melissa Brook returned to the flat she owned; dressed in different clothes now, she was still as impeccably neat as ever. She'd just stepped into the building when the man from upstairs was coming down the stairs.

Melissa stopped, smiling at him. "I don't believe we've ever had the pleasure of meeting." She spoke with a specifically Dublin lilt.

"Don't bother." He took another step down. "I can assume your date went well."

She raised her perfectly manicured eyebrows; every bit of her was perfectly manicured, it was almost unbearable. "My date?"

"You left last night dressed differently than you've returned. And you have men's deodorant."

"Unless the laws are different here, I don't believe I would be able to go on a date and do as you're suggesting with my brother."

His eyes widened. "Brother?"

Melissa nodded. "A twin brother, actually."

"I would have said younger."

She raised her eyebrows. "He was actually born a few minutes after me."

"Thought so."

"You guessed."

"I never guess." He gestured loosely towards her bracelet. "Irish for brother. Suggests needy and protective, thus younger."

"And yet you seemed surprised when I stated that I had one."

"I wasn't surprised you had one, I was surprised you'd spent the night with him, but clearly did it regularly enough that you have clothes at his home."

"Oh, these?" Melissa straightened a wrinkle from her skirt. "He maintains them for when a woman stays the night. I had not been planning on spending so long with him but we got…distracted."

"Lie." She opened her mouth to speak, but he interrupted her. "You've always had bags under your eyes. Likely not from malnutrition, since you're clearly someone obsessed with appearances, so late nights. And since you have a twin you're close to, it's not a strange event for you to spend time together, and for you to stay up late together."

Melissa clearly looked surprised at his conclusion. "You are quite a surprising man."

"Surprising?"

"Yes, surprising." She moved towards her flat door. "Off to the morgue?" He looked shocked. "You have a certain glee about you and Mrs. Hudson mentioned you have a fascination with the morgue. I made an assumption." Melissa gave him a little wave. "Enjoy yourself." She turned and entered her room, though she paused the moment before the door closed, pulling out her phone.

Home safe? -S

I just left a car you were driving.

Aren't I allowed to worry about you?

J would claim you can't.

Fuck him.

That's incest.

Fuck you.

Yes, please.

Melissa looked up from her phone, looked over her shoulder, gave her neighbor, who was still looking at her, a wave before she closed the door.

She sighed when she saw the pen that she'd dropped the day before now sat on the back of the sofa.

"Really?"

A man stepped out of her kitchen, with a pleased smirk and a phone in hand. "You told me to fuck you. I have come to obey."

"Not now." She shrugged off her coat. "I just spent the whole night with my brother; I'm not in the mood."

He moved closer until he could wrap his arms around her. "Aw, please?"

She pushed him back. "No, Seb."

"Just a kiss?" He stepped forward again, forcing her back as he placed a hand on her door. "Come on, Melie, please."

"Sebastian," Melissa said, putting her hands against his chest. "No." She pushed him back again, but he just leaned closer. "Don't make me shoot you."

"Wouldn't that alert your neighbors?"

"If you try anything, I'd be happy for them to be alerted. You did break into my flat after all." She pushed again, but that time he did stumble backward, slipping his hands into his pockets. "My brother doesn't have some task for you to busy yourself with?"

"He wanted to ensure you got home safe. I'm supposed to watch you for an hour."

She raised an eyebrow. "And you decided that you should break into my flat?"

"Thought we could have some fun."

"You can get me a drink and then you can get out."

Sebastian frowned. "What happened last night?"

"What do you mean?"

"Melissa."

Melissa sighed, moving past him towards the kitchen to get a glass of water for herself, snatching the pen as she passed the sofa. "He had a lot of questions about my neighbor."

Sebastian grabbed her free hand, turning her to face him again. "Melissa, what did he do?"

She frowned. "He's my brother, Seb, what the fuck do you think he did?" she yanked her hand from his hold. "Don't you dare presume that you're close to me just because we're fucking behind his back. So when I tell you to get out, you get out, no questions asked. Now, get the fuck out." She turned and stalked away, pen already twirling in her hand.

When she returned to the entrance room, Sebastian was nowhere to be found. Melissa sighed, took a drink, and fell back onto her sofa, taking the same pose she had before she'd left the day before.

She didn't always spend her days lying on her sofa, but after the night she'd just had with her brother…she needed to think.

And, thankfully, her neighbor had left, so there was no loud violin from the floor above.

~M~

At some point that night, at a time that would likely be considered the morning of the next day, Melissa Brook exited a privately owned restaurant. As she approached the car waiting out front, she knew the driver was not who she expected. But all she did was readjust her purse so that the small handgun inside was easily accessible.

She slid into the car and immediately relaxed.

Mycroft Holmes sat in the car and she greeted him with a smile. "And how, pray tell, can I help you?"

"Stay away from my brother."

She played offended. "Whatever do you believe I'm going to do to that dear brother of yours? Besides throttle him for playing that violin of his at all hours."

"Be serious."

She smirked. "I had no idea that operating my late mother's restaurant empire was so threatening to the British government." Melissa pulled a pen from somewhere inside her hair, twirling beside her.

"I don't know why you've decided to live in the basement flat at 221, but you will be watched."

"I didn't realize you were so protective of your baby brother, Mr. Holmes. One would almost say you were exhibiting emotion, though, of course, we both know that isn't true." She leaned back. "You know, I've always found it foolish that you do all your deals on your own. You can do so much more behind the scenes with a pretty face to seduce the target and lay the trap." She turned towards the door and opened it, stepping out before turning to look at Mycroft again. "Ask my baby brother."

And then she slammed the door on his face.

The moment she stepped back, her phone buzzed.

And who was that? -J

Ice Man.

What did he want with you?

Warned me to stay away from his brother.

And will you?

Will you?

His car is still there.

Melissa looked up and tapped on the window of the car still in front of her. It didn't roll down, but she knew he was still there. "Shall I call the police on the strange man sitting in a suspicious car outside of my restaurant at strange hours? You have no legal reason to be here, Mycroft Holmes, so fuck off."

She turned and walked back towards the building, calling someone as she walked. "I need a car, now. And don't you dare fuck with me right now, you idiot."

Mycroft's car drove off, but Melissa didn't turn back. She just began to twirl the pen again, pulling out the phone again to text.

In case you were curious, it did not go well.

What happened?

Didn't agree to the payment.

Waste of time.

I thought you would enjoy it. Our birthday is in a few months, but it's necessary to start planning now.

I guess you're going to have to find me a different present.

Have you picked out a present for me yet?

Of course ;)

Don't worry, I'll find one to suffice. I have more than enough time.

You'd better.

Says the man who gave me a dead cat one year.

You were interested in science!

And allergic to cats.

A technicality.

I was sent to the hospital.

An exciting birthday.

Melissa sighed, looking up from her phone at a sound in front of her. The restaurant should have closed the moment she'd left, with any employees she'd forced to remain until then leaving from the back. No one was meant to be there, not at that hour.

She flicked the pen around her fingers as she stepped forward, the other hand moving to call Sebastian again since he was already later than he should have been.

There was a gunshot and Melissa twisted, ducking as she did so.

The bullet nearly touched her arm, so close that she could feel the air current around it and smell the gunpowder.

She went to the ground, pulling out her handgun as she did so and pointing it in the direction of the gunshot.

It was from across the street and, given the trajectory, someone on street level.

There was a flash and she knew they were in the building.

Slowly, Melissa walked forwards, not caring about the road she was crossing, until she stood before the office building, peering through the dark windows. She'd dropped her phone when she'd ducked, but Sebastian would already be on his way.

There was another glint of movement and Melissa fired.

Someone groaned from the pain, but another sound from the other side of the building made her turn. As she did so, she felt someone press a gun against her head from behind, wrapping an arm around her neck as they did so.

"Drop the weapon," the person holding her said, their accent Russian. "Now."

Melissa twisted, aiming to throw them off balance, but the person moved with her, pushing her forward so that she had to brace herself to keep from smashing her face open. They didn't stop there; they quickly moved so that they were straddling her, one hand on the arm with the handgun and the other pressing the gun to her head again.

Simply from the force alone, she couldn't breathe.

They used the gun to press her face into the pavement. "Stay still, and you will not be harmed."

"Yeah," she mumbled against the gravel, trying to keep herself from moving her face too much, "don't fuck with me like that."

There was the sound of the person beginning to speak again, but they were very obviously shut up by a gunshot to the head. In the few moments before the body fell, Melissa turned to redirect the fall to the side so that she wasn't crushed. The person ended up face first on the pavement and she stood, not even blinking before firing five bullets into their back.

"Overkill much?" Sebastian said, striding forward with his own gun hanging loosely by his side, finger casually on the trigger. "He was shot in the head."

Melissa fired another shot, and Sebastian touched her arm. She jerked him away, pointing the gun at him too. "You are not allowed to touch me."

He raised his hands, knowing he couldn't dare to point a weapon at her. "Melissa…"

She sighed, letting her hand fall. "Fuck you." Melissa walked back across the street towards the car that had arrived, ignoring the fact there was a bullet hole through one of the windows. Sebastian followed her without a word, sliding into the driver's seat as she lounged in the back.

"You were late."

"I thought you would take longer."

"Or you were fucking someone."

"I can assure you that that is not the case."

Melissa leaned forward, pressing her hands against her face. "I need a pen." Sebastian handed one to her and she fell backward, beginning to twist it. "Ensure my brother knows what happened. I want those responsible punished."

"Does that include me?"

She looked through her hands to the mirror, meeting Sebastian's eyes through it. "You were late." His hands tensed on the steering wheel. "I was just nearly shot in the head, Moran," his knuckles whitened, "I'm not going to be very lenient. Ensure that my brother knows what happened."

Sebastian tossed a phone back to her. "Tell him yourself."

She put up a 'v' sign and leaned back.

One of your clients pressed a gun to my head. -M

Who?

I didn't see their face. But they were Russian.

Yes, I only have one Russian client.

Don't mock me. I was almost shot.

Your reflexes are slowing.

And your favorite sniper was late.

Really?

Are you accusing me of lying?

Testy tonight, aren't you?

Fuck you.

I'll deal with Sebastian, don't worry.

Good.

Melissa didn't look up before she spoke to Sebastian again. "Did you contact one of my brother's men to collect the body?"

"Of course."

And I will find who dared to attack you.

Thank you, brother dearest.

Only for you, my sweet sister.

Melissa looked up from the phone, dropped it to her lap, and closed her eyes, resting a hand on her brow as she took a breath and began to twirl the pen.

She wanted to shoot something.

~M~

Melissa Brook was just leaving her flat, eyes on her phone, when she nearly collided with a new man looking around the hall. She didn't drop her phone, her grip tightening, and looked up at the new arrival.

And it shocked her that she recognized him.

For a few moments, she lost control of her reactions and her mouth opened, eyes wide. The man looked as though he was worried he'd terribly frightened her, and her neighbor, pausing on the stairs, seemed equally confused.

"Hey," the new arrival said, and Melissa collected herself again, taking a step back from him. "I didn't see you…"

"No, it's my fault." She waved the phone. "Too lost in my texts, stopped paying attention."

He shrugged. "Happens to the best of us."

Melissa smiled, but even this man could tell it was slightly strained. "How long have you been back from Afghanistan?"

The man's eyes widened, and he groaned. "Another one?"

She frowned. "What?"

"He did that to me earlier!" the man gestured up at Sherlock. "Am I just a walking ad for recently returned soldier?"

Melissa raised her eyebrows. "You fought with my brother."

The man's eyes widened, as did Sherlock's. "Who was your brother?"

"Colonel Seamus Brook." She looked up at Sherlock. "Not my twin, by the way, Seamus is younger."

"Seamus?" the man asked. "Irish accent? Bit short?" She nodded. "He was a good lad. How is he?"

"Coping. Therapist, you know, helping him adjust." She laughed. "He'll love to know that I saw you. Are you planning on living with Sherlock?"

"I've just come to look at the flat. Do you live here?"

She pointed behind her, back towards her flat. "221C. What a coincidence. But I don't want to keep you any longer; hopefully, you find the flat to your liking." Melissa moved to walk past him, John Watson stepping out of her way. "A warning; he plays the violin at all hours. Be prepared." With a final smile, she left, though she did pause on the doorstep to send a few texts, as she tended to.

I saw John Watson.

The doctor Seamus mentioned? - J

Yes.

How…interesting.

Shall I tell Seamus?

I'll leave you to decide that. You were always closest to him.

Compared to you, a stranger was close with him.

You're very welcome for the advice, sweet sister.

Melissa looked up just as a man stepped out of police car sitting in front of the building, lights flashing. She raised her eyebrows. "Anything the matter, officer?"

He looked shocked to see her. "No, nothing serious. Just here to see your…neighbor?"

She chuckled. "I live in the basement flat. Just arrived a few days ago." She hurried down the stairs. "I hope everything goes well, officer." The cab she ordered pulled up. "Terrible things, those suicides, isn't it?" She grinned and, making a call, slid into the cab.

A/N: Hello and welcome to Dead Can Dance, my new story in the Sherlock universe. My goal will be to upload this story on a weekly basis, as I have it almost completely written out. I hope you enjoy Melissa; she's been quite a joy to inhabit.

I have a polyvore already done for her, the link to which can be found on my portfolio. Her face-claim is Eva Green.