==Chapter One: A Force of Nature==

My darling one, you are young and lovely,
But inexperienced, and though you think
The world is at your feet,
It can rise up and tread on you.

— Ian McEwan, Atonement

All right, so. My name is Beth Lestrade, and I'm fifteen years old. I'm also doing my junior year in high school—that's where the trouble started. If you want to know how I met the Doctor, you have to know what happened before that.

I'm smart, and I'm stubborn. That's why I'll graduate a year ahead of everybody else my age, and that's one of the reasons why the other teens don't like me. Plus, I fight the bullies around here. That's how my story begins—first day of school, out on the grounds.

The crowd's chant was deafening as two of Milton High School's newest teachers shouldered their way through the crush of students. The taller of the pair, following close behind his more powerfully built colleague, was intrigued to note that the brunette coming to grips with the gang's ringleader was giving as good as she received.

Despite his indignation at her opponent's conduct, Holmes couldn't help feeling a faint twinge of disappointment when Watson reached the centre of the ring, just in time to catch the bully's wrist as the young man drew back to throw another punch. Now they'd never know if she would have won...

"Enough." Watson's hard, quiet voice clearly conveyed his own anger, held in check only for the time being.

"She jumped me!" Why the young man thought that was going to garner him any sympathy...

The girl's blue eyes blazed as she hissed, "You and your pals jumped him!" She jabbed a finger towards a battered younger boy at the edge of the crowd, who looked as if he was hoping the earth would swallow him up, poor lad. "He's an asthmatic – you could have put him in the hospital, you moron!"

Holmes silently willed Watson to take care, as the young man spat another profanity at the girl. As much as either of them might want to administer a sound thrashing to the bully, such punishments were no longer in practise here – it was vital that they maintain as low a profile as possible, although they hadn't exactly gotten off to a promising start. Thankfully, their... other colleague was nowhere in sight, most likely still looking for a space to park the hovercar.

His friend's eyes were also smouldering with anger, although he still kept his composure, tone even but severely stern. "Young man, you will accompany me to the principal's office immediately."

The bully lapsed into a dour silence, the unease in his expression growing as his temper cooled.

Watson then turned to the girl and the asthmatic boy she'd so valiantly defended, voice softening. "Come along, you two."

The boy flushed, still trembling slightly, while the young lady took a calming breath, nodding. "Yes, sir."

Holmes stepped into the circle himself as Watson began escorting the three in the direction of the school office, addressing the crowd: "The rest of you can disperse – you have classes to attend."

To the detective's great relief, the surrounding students began to break up and drift away, groaning and muttering. His normal casework rarely included crowd control, and these adolescents were a far different breed from any of the elder Irregulars. His lips twitched in wry amusement – for one brief moment, he'd actually found himself wishing for the commanding bellow of Inspector Lestrade...

The principal did not look happy at having to deal with a fight on the first day. Well, Beth wasn't happy to have to be in a fight on the first day, and she was definitely not happy that Mr. Simpson was glaring at her and Rob. It was not. Her. Fault.

"Do I even want to know what the fight was about this time?"

Rob was staring sullenly at the desk. Baby. "She jumped me," he said in an equally sullen tone.

Beth was at least making an effort to stay calm. "He and his friends were shoving around an asthmatic freshman, sir," she said tightly—"and then one of them hit him."

Mr. Simpson glanced at his display screen, then at the freshman in question. "Is that true, Kevin?"

Kevin shifted uncomfortably in his seat, poor kid. "Yes, sir," he said quietly, nervously.

"Liar," Rob muttered.

"Oh, shut up!" Beth snapped. Honestly!

The principal glared at them icily, and she couldn't help shrinking back in her seat. "That's enough, both of you! Mr. Vernet, please go with Kevin to Sickbay, tell Nurse Redfern what happened." He returned his attention to Kevin. "We'll talk again later, son."

"Yes, sir," Kevin repeated, his voice small.

The tall, dark-haired teacher escorted him out, and Mr. Simpson turned to Rob. "Robert, you and your thugs have been warned before about using the other students as punching bags! I don't care if your father is on the Board of Directors—if this ever happens again, you will be expelled! You can wait in reception while I call your parents."

Rob muttered something that might have been "Yes, sir" and slunk out of the office.

Mr. Simpson waited until Rob left, then turned to Beth, expression grave as he sighed. "Elizabeth..."

No. Not that tone—she hated that disappointed tone. She couldn't handle that disappointment—especially when she wasn't actually doing anything wrong...

"Sir, they could have put Kevin in the hospital—they probably would have!"

"And you could just as easily have joined him!" Mr. Simpson said sternly. (No, she wouldn't've—Kevin had had no idea of how to defend himself, and she did. She'd been in school fights since the sixth grade. She knew.) "I've told you before: the last thing we need here is a vigilante who, like those bullies, thinks she can solve every problem with her fists! If you need to stop a fight, find a teacher!" (She'd gone that route before; it almost never worked.)

He sighed. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth... at the very least, I have to put you on probation, too. Anything else depends on just how much blood Director Greene comes howling after."

She bit back hot tears and just barely nodded. It wasn't fair. She didn't enjoy fighting—she had only been trying to protect a kid who might have been seriously injured by the time she could have gotten an adult.

Mr. Simpson's expression and voice softened a bit. "Believe me, I wish I could just let you walk out of here with a slap on the wrist! But rules are rules, and every student here knows that brawling on school grounds won't be tolerated." (Had there been a slight emphasis on the words "on school grounds"? She thought there might have been...) "Are we clear?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly, brow furrowing. "Yes, sir."

"How long will probation last?" said the teacher still standing behind her, the one who'd grabbed Rob. Her new English teacher, actually—Mr. Walker.

"Assuming there are no more incidents," said Mr. Simpson, a little wearily, "'til the end of the semester." He glanced at the clock and then at Beth. "And you'd better get to class—the bell's about to ring."

"Yes, sir," Beth murmured. She stood stiffly, turned, and walked out.

She did get it, which was why she hadn't bothered trying to justify her actions. But she also couldn't... she couldn't just let things go. She didn't have it in her. She was a detective's daughter. She was the descendant of a detective who had allowed an amateur colleague to walk all over him, more or less, to accomplish justice.

So she really hoped that Rob would give it up for the semester, because, otherwise, she honestly couldn't see a way in which this situation would end well.

Watson sighed as Elizabeth walked out of the room. "She's a good kid..." To put it mildly – the girl had comported herself with impressive dignity under greatly trying circumstances. "Which is more than I can say for Robert, director's son or not."

Mr. Simpson mirrored Watson's frown, massaging his forehead. "No arguments here..." The principal slumped back in his chair with a groan. "What I wouldn't give just to let them fight it out! That arrogant little tick's been begging to get his hide handed to him from Day One..." grinning wryly, "and you didn't hear that from me!"

Watson raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at his lips. "Didn't hear what, sir?" He glanced at his new digital watch – having a timepiece attached to his wrist still felt odd. "Well, I'd better get off to my classroom. I'll see you later, Mr. Simpson."

Simpson nodded at Watson, smiling. "Oh, and thanks for stepping in back there, James, you and Mr. Vernet. Settling in all right?"

Watson nodded, amused to note that, even with an assumed name, Holmes' demeanour still discouraged people from addressing him informally. "I think so, yes. Bit different here in the States, but that's what we were looking for."

"Glad to hear it." Simpson sighed, sitting forward again and reaching for the desk pad. "Time to stir the hornets' nest..."

"I wish you luck," Watson replied with feeling, and left.

Author's note from Sky: Oh gosh, I am so excited about this episode! I've been excited forever about this episode! So... what in the world is going on? Well, lots of stuff! (To our Sherlockian-savvy readers... yes, Beth is who you think she is.) Stay tuned!