Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.

Rated T because of Hydranthea's potty mouth. And general potty mouths.

Note: So, there might be some confusion on... just stuff in general. I'll try to explain some of it at the end.

"Help. I'm surrounded by morons," I drone at the bullies, not bothering to look at them, instead focusing on the turtle shaped cloud. So much for getting away peacefully from idiots that harass me in Boston.

"You slut," he spits out. I snort. I'm insocial you see, "I'm gonna show ya not to mess around with us. That's our bench you're wiping your arse on, so you better get on with it and get off." dumb face number one says. His two cronies laugh and punch each other in the arm like the idiots they are.

"Yeah, tell 'er Casey," dumb face number two said.

I roll my eyes. A universal sign meaning, you just said something so incredibly stupid that I feel the need to check my brain to see if it registered correctly.

"Like any of you could even form coherent sentences to tell each other how to beat kindergarteners up," I retort.

Seems like that was the wrong thing to say. Well shit. I really didn't want to get into a fight. John would have my ass if I came in with a black eye and the news of dropping out of school. I just wanted to watch the clouds for crying out loud.

Dumb face number three hauls me up by the shirt collar, effectively slumping me off the bench where I was lying down on and lifting me off my feet. I'm rather on the skinny side after all. And a bit short. I look at where my feet are dangling from the asphalt. Lazily, I bring my eyes up to meet his steadily. This one looked like a newbie. His eyes looked a bit wary of what he was doing.

This was a bully initiation. I sigh. Poor chap.

"Piss off guys, I'm just back from uni and it's my time to laze around doing whatever the hell I want. I don't want to be bothered by people with the IQ of a protist."

Well damn. I don't know what I was thinking when I said that. Mycroft always said that my sharp tongue would get me into trouble. Funny after he said that, I showed up at home with a black eye.

I feel someone ruffly grab the back of my collar and hold me up.

"Come on, Jack, 'ave at 'er. She just lied to us, hear that? She said she a uni student. Pffft. Like this little midget is out of primary school." his cronies laughed. I love how Casey didn't mention to this "Jack" that I just said they all have an IQ of a protist.

But saying that I'm not in uni. Saying that I'm lying. That is a bitch move. I'm just short. With a flat chest. Shut up. I'm sixteen years old and I drink with an faked ID every weekend. Just kidding. Maybe.

I see Jack's fist come up into a stance. My throat felt a bit strained. This is escalating too fast. Even Mycroft wouldn't get here fast enough. Undoubtedly his CCTV cameras are trained on me, and he was already notified that I was in the country. Little stalker. Stalking his little bastard sister who isn't doing anything. But in all seriousness. I am about to get into serious shit.

"Would you really punch a helpless girl?" I ask as a last ditch attempt, batting my lashes innocently at him, my pride taking a chip.

Jack's stance wavers. I feel a sliver of hope.

"Nah, Jack, don't listen to 'er. We gotta let 'er know 'er place as one of 'dem women."

Jack's fist raised again. There the hope went plummeting to it's death. Okay. This is uncool. This mysoginistic little bully is getting on my nerves. I should really ask Sherlock for lessons on self-defence so I can kick him in the family jewels.

But until then, that is my last card played. Waterworks aren't my thing really.

I close my eyes and brace myself for the worst to come.

It never comes. Only the pressure around my neck loosening suddenly. I am dropped lightly onto my feet.

I hear a grunt of pain that isn't mine, and a stunned silence. So it was only natural that I cracked open an eye to see what the hell was going on.

Casey is lying on the ground, sporting a quickly blooming bruise over his eye, and Jack seemed to be holding his knuckles gingerly.

"Wat," as my American friends over the ocean would put it.

Well that's a first.

I don't get to cherish my luck however when I hear a chorus of, "Get him!"

Jack looks back at me with panicked eyes. Gee. Well he knows how to get out of a situation. I grab his elbow, minding the possible fractured wrists, and take off with him in tow, back down the bustling street of London. I can hear angry commuters cursing at the big guys barrelling at us, full-on bull mode.

I hail a cab at the intersection, and haul Jack in after me before it had even come to a full stop.

"Baker Street" I bark breathlessly, sprawled across the backseat, "and step on it for an extra."

Safely seated in a cab, heading for the apartment my brother and I live in together with John, I right myself, then slouch into my seat and close my eyes, reflecting on what I just did, the adrenaline still pumping through my veins.

To my left, I hear Jack shift awkwardly.

"Er." he starts timidly.

I groan out loud.

"Please, I really can't deal with you right now, I have much bigger problems."

Like how escape John's wrath.

A/N: So this is gonna continue on for how many chapters I dunno. I'll try to keep updating pretty frequently. But anyway, some clarification I think you'll need:

Hydranthea is sixteen. She does go to college. She is pretty genius like the rest of the Holmes brothers. Tell me if that's too unrealistic.

She's lived with Sherlock since forever, and recently with John when they adopted him as a flatmate. She recently went to America to attend uni for reasons that you'll find out in the next chapter probably (:P).

I think that's it so far. Lot's of questions will probably be answered in the next chapter, like her actual relationship with Mycroft and Sherlock and a possibly a backstory soon. But, leave any questions you want answered in the comments and I'll try my best to answer them.

Constructive criticism, as always, is welcome.

~lirgnayc