CHAPTER ONE: A GIANT GUN FILLED WITH DRUGS
Alex stared at the DEA agent in front of her, holding the gun to her and Rhys. She wondered if she should act afraid, but she was too angry to. Who she was more angry at, she couldn't decide- Rhys, for being a drug-dealing scumbag, the DEA agent for being a traitorous scumbag, or Sherlock for being… well, Sherlock.
Honestly, he really did have a keen mind when it came to crime and investigating, but after all this time, he still hadn't picked up on her past. Which was how she'd prefer it. Which was why she was angry at him, because she knew he had the capabilities of finding out she was a lot more capable then he assumed when she beat the scumbag- the traitorous one- up.
Traitorous scumbag opened his mouth, probably to order her and Rhys around, tell them to tie themselves up, or some shit. The idiot thought he could one-up her. How very naïve of him.
There was no uncertainty, no indecision, to fighting. Not like the rest of her life. As she spun into action, Alex was pure adrenaline. She reveled in her calling, her true calling. Her body hot, blood coursing with victory, she threw the gun's magazine away, having easily disarmed the traitorous scumbag, and proceeded to clip him nearly on the side of his temple, a pressure point, and watched him fall to the ground.
No uncertainty.
She really wished the rest of her life was like that.
"You disarmed and neutralized a trained DEA officer."
"Yes, Sherlock, I'm fine, thanks for asking." She said, sarcastically. The chair down at the station was uncomfortable, the linoleum-like cover starting to tear, revealing the flattened stuffing inside.
"How?" Sherlock asked.
"You're the detective, you tell me." She countered.
"You do hear stories of mothers lifting cars of children and what not, the whole heat of the moment poppycock," Sherlock said, "but I don't believe that. Especially not here. You knew what to do. You knew how to handle the gun and you knew where to hit to knock him out."
"I could be good with guns," Alex pointed out, "you've never actually asked me. And I did go to medical school, I'm fully aware of where pressure points are located."
"But that's a lie," Sherlock countered, "You've had martial arts training."
"So?" She arched a brow.
"So, you never told me!" Sherlock said, and Alex bit back a smile, because he looked like he was about to start pouting.
"And you've told me everything about your life?" She asked.
"You're hiding something- about your past! And I'm going to find out!" Sherlock said, determinedly. Alex rolled her eyes and stood up.
"You do that, Sherlock." She said, "but do it later. We've got a kidnap victim to rescue."