DISCLAIMER: Own nothing but Emily.
"Preposterous." The man's body language as well as his words gave off strong signals of disbelief; he shook his head, as if to brush the idea off, and sat back down in the leather armchair he'd just vacated to emphasise his point. "It will never work, Holmes."
"Why ever not? It's the perfect plan." Mycroft Holmes raised one eyebrow at the man opposite him.
"Sending an inexperienced child to do the work of a trained adult? The very notion is ridiculous," the other man rolled his eyes. "Anyhow, it's entirely illegal."
Mycroft sat back and placed his hands together in a steeple position. "Listen," he continued, "Yes, it's risky but it's all we can do at this point. And I can pull strings with the higher powers as to the legality of the situation. We can but try, Smith."
The man named Smith stood up. "Well, if you think I'm going to support you on this, you're wrong. But-"
"But," Mycroft cut in, "I am your boss and you will do as I say."
Smith sighed and walked towards the door. Before he left, he called over his shoulder – "You're going to fail, Mycroft. You're going to fail."
Once alone, Mycroft put his face in his hands and sighed.
It was in the very same office two days later that the teenager stood. Her hair was long and blonde; her clothes cheap and ill-fitting, and her eyes wary.
Mycroft Holmes looked at a sheet on his desk. He sighed, deeply, then stood up and addressed the girl.
"Emily."
She looked up at him, and tried to hide the fear in her voice as she asked – "Why am I here?"
Ignoring the question Mycroft said, "I understand you are an orphan; is this correct?"
Emily nodded.
"No parents? Family of which to speak?"
Emily shook her head.
"That's good. Because parents would rather disrupt the…the little job I have for you. You see," Mycroft tried to speak in a more friendly way upon seeing a terrified face staring up at him, "We have a, um, task that needs doing. Not – not a bad task," he hastened to add upon seeing the face go pale white, "To be frank, we need a spy to, ah, observe my, erm, brother. And a child would work well."
He paused; Emily looked a little less scared and said, "Wh-what's in it for me?"
Mycroft laughed. "How does…ten thousand pounds sound to you?"
Emily had been an orphan for as long as she could remember, and the only money she got was the meagre amount the children's home gave out on Christmas. You could almost see the dollar signs in her eyes as she nodded dumbly.
"Good," Mycroft smiled, happy his plan had worked so well. "Just for a few weeks, of course. You'll have to be trained…"
But Emily had zoned out,dreaming of all she could buy with ten thousand pounds. Little did she know she'd get a lot more than she bargained for when she arrived at 221b, Baker Street.
