A/N I do not own any of the characters associated with Sherlock Holmes they belong to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I also do not own the series Sherlock.

Prologue

Three years ago there was a man, a brilliant man who saw everything, some say that that was his curse, his downfall but now I know that it was his ability to care that ruined him. Three years ago I had just finished the second year of my mathematics degree at Cambridge, I was hoping for a future teaching in the subject at a university nearer my childhood home in Derbyshire. Unfortunately, even if I didn't know it back then, the fact that a genius detective had supposedly committed suicide at St. Bartholomew's Hospital would change my future dramatically and perhaps change it for the better.

Present Day…

I had been staring at the message on the whiteboard for an hour already and I was no further forward in decoding it. There was no doubt that this Moriarty had been a mathematical genius, for two weeks I had been trying to decode the strange message using every code imaginable. I had run it through countless programmes and even they seemed to shy away from the words, which sounded vicious even if they were encoded. I knew that this man was dead and so were most of his accomplices that were part of his web, there was however still one that had eluded practically every secret service agent in the world. Sebastian Moran was threatening to be even worse than his idol James Moriarty ever was, perhaps because he was driven by revenge whereas Moriarty was driven solely by boredom.

With my degree in mathematics I could have done anything, I could have taken a high profile job in a bank, I could have been a politician but instead I chose to accept the job proposal that was delivered by a man in his forties who carried an umbrella, not the best choice I had ever made. When Mycroft Holmes offered me a position on the cryptology team here in the British government I accepted immediately seduced by the thought of James Bone style escapades. I'll admit sitting in an office staring at words did not live up to those fantasies and neither did my home life. I shared a modest apartment in central London with my friend Mabel Lyon who also happened to work for Mycroft as a personal assistant even though she had a degree in art history from Cambridge. So to sum up my life at this precise point, well, I was bored, I was tired and I was pretty sure that my flat was shrinking. No seriously that thing is the opposite of the TARDIS; it is not bigger on the inside.

I went back to looking at the message again only to be brought out of my thoughts by someone clearing their throat behind me. I spun around on my chair to see Mabel standing with an impatient look on her face. "Mycroft would like to see you in his office, don't ask me what he wants I don't know. What I do know is that he's been sneaking cake again, I think he's a stress eater." She trailed off when she saw what I was working on.

"I've been working on it non-stop for months now, I just don't understand what they mean. Maybe it's some sort of code only known by Moran and his accomplice, who knows. Well better not keep Mycroft waiting any longer." I walked down the maze of corridors which lead from my office to Mycroft's; sometimes I was glad that I had an office far away from the main space. At least I was able to get some peace and quiet which unfortunately was not a luxury that Mabel possessed. She knocked on the large oak door that lead into Mycroft's office and then showed me in with a strange look on her face as if she knew that something was going to happen. I entered the dark room and stood awkwardly beside the desk that dominated the room. "Sit down Miss. Ryer." He pointed absentmindedly to the leather chair in front of the desk; I sunk down into the leather feeling slightly trapped and claustrophobic. "I understand that you have worked for me for a year now Miss. Ryer, is that correct?"

"Yes." I paled slightly at the tone of the conversation, it sounded awfully like a 'you're fired' conversation.

"I have a proposition for you, I know that you wish to complete a PhD in your chosen field of mathematics but you do not have the funds to complete it. As you know my brother has recently returned to his normal life after being in hiding for three years and I need someone to keep an eye on him. Therefore I would like you to attend to him and in return I shall allow you to complete you PhD after one year of service. Will you do this?" He looked up from the document he was reading and caught my eyes.

"Well, I suppose I have no other way of raising the funds myself." I stuttered through the sentence before I realised that I had just agreed to essentially babysit his brother in return for the chance to complete my education.

"Excellent meet me at the main entrance at precisely 2pm."

2.15pm at 221B Baker Street…

I found myself being lead up a staircase, with each step I took I regretted my decision even more. Mycroft swung open the door to the flat which apparently contained his brother; I nervously followed Mycroft into the room to see a grown man of around thirty years of age lying on a sofa with a silk dressing gown. "Sherlock I would like you to meet Helena Ryer she will be your new 'assistant' if you like." The man on the sofa sighed and rolled over so that he was facing the wall.

"I don't need an assistant brother dear; now leave me alone I have a very important case to attend to." The man's baritone voice seemed to echo around the small flat and I realised why this man had managed to acquire a very large female fan base over the years.

"You are not working a case, for if you were you wouldn't be lying around in your dressing gown. Miss. Ryer will be keeping an eye on you for the next year, I'm not taking any chances this time around I won't have another national disaster. Miss. Ryer I will leave you here with my brother to get acquainted." He turned to leave before I had a chance to take back my acceptance.

"You may as well just leave." He turned to face me and looked over me. I crossed my arms over my chest subconsciously.

"Does it bother you that I'm here?" Instead of answering me he chose to grunt and go back to facing the wall. "I'll just sit down over here then."

A/N I will try to make regular updates but I'm also working on another fanfiction at the moment called 'Heartlines'. Thanks.