Hi.

Yet another project bouncing around my head, so I really need reviews to establish whether or not to continue it.

Disclaimer: I do not own any aspect of Sherlock, including characters, scenes and possible plot lines. I only own my imagination and the plot lines that have derived from it.

She was running. Running like she had never run before, and with the screaming of her muscles tormenting her with every step, probably never would again. Not that that really mattered though. As long as she was a really long way away from where she was meant to be, she wouldn't need to move beyond a casual jog ever again.

The teenager swerved around incoming traffic, delicately sidestepping past evening commuters as she weaved through the London streets. Obviously she could choose a simpler route, one that would involve her toes being trodden on less and fewer complaints being voiced, but that would defeat the object of her running. Also it would be considerably less fun.

Blinking back to the present as she heard a shout that had become all too recognisable, the girl looked around her before running almost directly at a bus shelter. Springing at the last minute, she clambered upwards before scrambling and crawling till she was sitting on the roof of the nearest building. Climbing had never been her thing, back where she could have talents and bad points without it becoming life threatening; but the scraped knee and bruised ribs were nothing compared to what she would receive if she backed out now.

Adrenalin coursed through her body as she tried to steady her breathing and the frantic beating of her heart. She watched almost calmly as the four suited officials tracking her ran past her perch on the top of the London building, before turning back; revolving on her ankles so that there was no chance of her balance being lost as she swivelled round to point in her new direction. In front of her, the skyline glistened in the evening sunset, showing clearly the edges of London's enthralling streets and suburban housing estates. The teen stared at the horizon, one hand over her eyes to shade them from the fierce sun as she gazed out beyond the forest of skyscrapers and to the distant glimmer of fields. A small spec blocked the view of freedom from her, and she sighed in frustration, before realising her error.

The helicopter whirred through the skyline, cutting off the teenager's contemplations as it powered through the skies, directly towards her. Onboard, the dashboard flashed with the location of its target. The 'target' started to back away, before remembering the ledge she had been previously standing on. With the agility of an athlete-which she most definitely was not- the girl spun around as she tipped backwards and clung to the edge, before clambering back onto the safety of the roof. From there she dropped low, hoping against hope that the helicopter wasn't equipped with infra-red. Of course it was, that was only wishful thinking. Cursing her own stupidity she remembered herself who her captor was, who she was dealing with. Remembering also made her thing just how annoying he and his creepy cohorts were. The teenager smiled.

She waited, still crouching, until he helicopter was in a ten metre radius, just close enough to look the pilot in the eye; and wink. From there, she straightened up , and ran. She sprinted between chimneys and raised skylights, all the while tracking the progress of the helicopter with one ear. As far as she was aware, it was struggling to manoeuvre round the obstacles that were proving no problem to a small enough body as herself. Which was a good thing because it also meant the tranquilizers couldn't aim.

The sound of footsteps interrupted her once again, and with a start she realised that she was being tracked from the ground. As she ran level with the three armed, government officials, the teenager analysed each one. There was Dopey, who may well be a good fighter but couldn't solve a puzzle if you paid him-which was a shame considering that they did; Grumpy who was missing a date and a pay rise; and Doc- the one who was holding the syringe.

The girl gained ground on them and then stopped at the nearest fire escape ladder. Looking down, she whistled loudly before stopping completely and hanging off the ladder casually, trying not to show them the shaking of her hands or her shortness of breath. All she had to do was split them up. It was simple. Childs play-which was good, considering she was one.

As she shimmied down the ladder with unexpected ease, she kicked over the nearest bin, separating the group in a spate of luck. She was left with Grumpy, who lasted approximately 18 seconds before finding himself sampling the textures of the rubbish bins in a force-induced stupor. The teen would have known the exact time, but he had broken her watch with the second punch. Shaking her hand out to stop the cramping as the bones clicked out of place, she vaulted over the bins and came face to face with Dopey. Time for the complicated stuff. She looked at him again, taking in the crumpled picture in his left pocket and the slight bulge in his wallet. He had kids-so it would be easier then she thought.

She let her defensive stance crumble at her feet, before holding her good hand up in surrender as she stifled a sob. Through the corner of one eye, she noticed the man's official posture falter, and be replaced with that of a father.

"What's your name sweetie?" he questioned, while reaching out to her with one arm. She looked up through tear-glazed pupils, and whimpered.

"Scarlett. It's Scarlett, Sir." She smiled slightly as he knelt down to her, before kicking him where no man should ever be kicked without reason. He doubled over, and then tasted concrete. His groans of agony were soon replaced by nothing as Scarlett knelt down besides him and touched the pressure point on the back of his neck to knock him unconscious.

Getting back to her feet, she froze as she remembered the unforgettable, and then was forced to the ground as strong hands pulled her hands behind her back and pushed her nose to the dirt of the alley. She struggled and flailed but failed to make contact, and a few more minutes of pressure made her give in. She stilled her movements, and curled in on herself ever so slightly, till her head was forced upwards to look into the eyes of her captor.

He strolled down amidst the dirt and the rubbish, swinging his umbrella under one arm, holding a briefcase firmly in the other; before coming to a stop before her. She could see his polished shoes right in front of her nose, but she could not raise the effort to spit. It was all over. Doc had her pinned with no way out, and the very man she had been running from her come to meet her, take her back, and probably punish her for her 'crimes'.

"Well, well, well Miss Scarlett," the government official started," You put up quite the fight this time. I'm almost impressed. But it's over now. You cannot run away from the government in the very heart of where they govern. That is absurd and below your intelligence. Do what you must Mr Saunders."

Doc, or Mr Saunders as he must be, reached down to Scarlett's arm, and found a vein. She offered no resistance, as she was still thinking about the words of the man she despised, but also had to entrust with her life. She waited for the prick of the needle, and winced as it pumped sleep around her body. She felt herself going numb, and her legs collapsing out underneath her crouched form. She whimpered-properly this time, letting a tiny amount of emotion through her shields- before there was silence, and the nothing.

A couple of metres away from his captive and his responsibility, Mycroft Holmes made a phone call. He twirled his umbrella and inspected the point as he waited for the line to pick up. As it did he placed the umbrella back at his feet and turned further away from the scene.

"Hello brother dear, I have a preposition for you."

So what did you think? Viable enough to continue? Please leave your thoughts and comments in a review or PM me.

Thank you.