A/N Sorry about that last chappie being so short, but it was my bedtime and Mum was a pain, so I had to hurry. I hope this chappie makes up for it. Also I'm not really used to writing fanfiction, so any helpful advice would be really appreciated. Thanks!

"I have a proposition to make." Sherlock stated.

Chelsea calmly looked up at him, eyes crinkled slightly.

"No shit, Sherlock." Was her answer, and Sherlock raised a brow at her reply, before plowing ahead regardless.

"It seems like there are several stages to this. Your admirer/stalker gives you every weekend, but you keep throwing them away. Six months on, you find a shrine dedicated to you. This keeps happening until finally on Valentine's Day next year, you finally meet your stalker. But until then I suggest you stay at Baker Street, and then we can discuss...

"Whoa, whoa whoa! Hold up there Spiderman! You think that this person is planning to do this for the rest of the year until next Valentine's Day! I'm supposed to put up with this until next Valentine's Day! And then there's the chance of possible kidnapping, or whatever! This person is a psycho! What the heck am I meant to do? I can't deal with all that trash clogging up my room!" She plopped down on the edge of Sherlock's chair, and sighed dejectedly.

"That's why I suggested you stay at Baker Street until then." Chelsea looked up at him quickly.

"Move out of my Uni dorm, and move in with you? Can I consider that?" Sherlock shrugged.

"Be my guest. It's your safety." Chelsea stood up.

"Thanks for the offer, but even though there is a potential psycho stalking me, I'm really not sure. I'll see you later." Sherlock nodded in acknowledgement, and Chelsea slipped down the stairs. She didn't look where she was going and collided with the elderly lady from earlier.

"Oh dear, Madam I am so sorry." She gripped the woman's shoulder to stop her from falling backwards. The woman steadied herself and chuckled.

"No harm done dearie, and who are you?" Chelsea grinned at the woman, instantly put at ease.

"I'm Chelsea Griffiths, how do you do?" She put out her hand which the elderly woman shook.

"Mrs Hudson, I'm Sherlock's landlady. I must say it's nice to meet such a polite person as you." Chelsea smiled at that.

"Well bad manners never got anyone anywhere. I hope I didn't hurt you or anything?"

"Oh no, bless you dear, I was just going up to see if Sherlock wanted some tea." Chelsea grinned even wider when she heard that.

"He'll probably need it. I just took him on a two mile run through London." Mrs Hudson's eyes widened.

"Well in that case!" Chelsea laughed at her expression, and continued on her path down stairs. "It was lovely to meet you Mrs Hudson. Have a nice day." She waved her hand to the friendly landlady, and recieved a beaming smile in return.

"It was a pleasure to meet you too dear. I hope you enjoy your day as well."

"I will!" And with that Chelsea sprang out the door onto the London streets, cheerily strolling down the sidewalk. Slinging her handbag over her shoulder she whistled a tune which earned her looks of both annoyance and approval from passersby. But this walk was different, it was like a battleground. Someone out there was potentially stalking her. Was it the young man gazing at the pastries in the window of a bakery with a cigarette in his mouth? Or was it the fat, bearded man who had grinned at her when she shouldered her way past him, the tune to "Bridge On The River Kwai" coming out of her mouth, loudly and enthusiastically? Her eyes darted around furtively, not betraying her cheery behaviour as she continued on her path. A telephone rang as she passed by the booth, and she looked at it before continueing on. The ringing stopped as soon as she passed it by. Turning back she came up to it, and as if on cue the phone rang. Her eyebrow rose, and she stepped away from it. It continued ringing for a heartbeat longer before it stopped. Stepping directly in front of it, she waited until it rang. Stepping into the booth, she picked up the phone and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Miss Griffiths." A cold voice answered, and Chelsea shrugged.

"I see what you did there. That was a little bit confusing. Anyways, are you my stalker, or just a random prank caller, cause whichever one you are, I am not interested."

"Neither, I am an interested party. Get in the car Miss Griffiths." A black car pulled up to the curb, and Chelsea raised an eyebrow.

"Neat car. Are you kidnapping me? Or interrogating me?" A chuckle was heard on the other end and Chelsea suppressed a smile. At least the person had a sense of humour.

"More of an interrogation I suppose, but it would probably look more like a kidnapping." Chelsea grinned.

"Ooh, plot twist. Cool. Catch you later." Hanging up the phone, she stepped out onto the curb, and the driver opened the door for her. She nodded to him, a pleasant smile on her face, and stepped into the car. A dark-haired woman with a phone in her hand looked up and nodded. Chelsea nodded, and leaned back comfortably in her seat, gazing out the window as the drive went on and on, passing through London. She sighed in boredom, and spoke simply for the sake of saying it.

"It would have been much faster to have given me the location. I would have made it in half the time." Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the woman look up. Turning around she faced her. "I'm guessing you already know my name, so what's your's if you don't mind me asking?" A look of surprise momentarily crossed the woman's features.

"Anthea." She replied, before returning to her Blackberry. Chelsea nodded.

"Nice name, but I'm guessing that's a cover name." Anthea nodded at that, and Chelsea smiled to herself.

"I'm guessing that since this isn't a kidnapping, I'm going to meet someone important. Any clues I can take?" Her tone was teasing, and Anthea looked up, a smile playing over her face.

"No clues allowed, sorry." Chelsea grinned right back.

"Sorry, already guessed some. I couldn't help but notice." Anthea chuckled at Chelsea, and they shared a conspiratal giggle, before the car stopped, and Chelsea looked at the window. "Abandoned warehouse. Nice place. Little bit intimidating though. Catch you later." She called as she got out and looked around. A man in a suit was leaning on an umbrella several meters away, and Chelsea strode confidently towards him, a small smile playing on her features. It was all designed to intimidate her, but she was most definitely not intimidated. "Hello." She called to the suited man, and he guestured to a chair nearby.

"Do take a seat." He told her, his voice polite, and very British. Chelsea instantly recognised him to be phone man.

"No, thank you, I feel like standing, and I already had a nice rest." A small smile which looked more like a smirk crossed his face.

"Ah yes. Chelsea Griffiths, parkour and freerunning expertise. You must be used to standing up then." Chelsea nodded.

"Well you know my name, I don't suppose it would be allright if I learnt your's it's only fair." The man hesitated.

"I am... an interested party." This time it was Chelsea's face that bore the smirk.

"Oh come now, do play fair! You basically just kidnapped me right out of the streets, I'm in a situation in which I have no choice, and you won't even give me a name. Tsk, tsk, that's not playing fair. Come on now." A helpless look crossed the man's face, and he looked down, before meeting Chelsea's eyes.

"Holmes. Mycroft Holmes." Chelsea smiled.

"Right, and, do tell me. Does a flair for dramatics run in the family?" A smile crossed Mycroft's face at that.

"It's worse in Sherlock." He protested slightly, but Chelsea would have none of that.

"Oh no it isn't, you just choose a more subtle way of showcasing." The smile disappeared, and then reappeared before he met her eyes again. Chelsea grinned widely at him. "Now, I am sure you didn't just call me here for pep talk, so I'll let you speak, because I'm sure that you must have something of greater importance." She waved her hand airily, and Mycroft shifted uncomfortably, retaking control of the situation.

"You are acquainted with my brother, and he offered you a place to stay while he dealt with your stalker." Chelsea nodded. "I am willing to offer a substantial amount of money if you agree to... well let's say... keep an eye on my brother." Chelsea looked at him.

"Brotherly love?" Mycroft looked down.

"I am concerned for him." He stated, and Chelsea smiled.

"I know. I have a younger brother, I was always concerned for his safety. Sherlock must give you a good deal of concern, then?" Mycroft nodded.

"His field of work is more dangerous than you think. He has been shot more than once, poisoned, and threatened with death more times than you can count." Chelsea's eyes widened.

"That's a heck of a lot. I can do up to my twenty-five times tables off by heart!" Mycroft smirked at that.

"It is a lot. You can see my problem." Chelsea looked at the floor, and then back up.

"Are you appealing to my sense of understanding into sibling relationships?" Mycroft looked down, and Chelsea smiled. "Because it's working, and yeah, I'm willing." Mycroft looked up, and smiled at her too. They shared a grin, and then Chelsea turned and looked at the car behind her. "I'm guessing our conversation is over now?" Mycroft nodded, and walked away, twirling his umbrella.

"See you soon, Miss Griffiths." Chelsea smirked, and started walking back to the car.

"The same to you, Mr Holmes. Give my love to the Queen!" Mycroft turned around and watched her as she strode confidently over to the car, and got in. Shaking his head he continued to his car, but one thought that crossed his mind was that he had severly miscalculated Chelsea Griffiths. Severly. And if anyone ever crossed her in the wrong way, he had no doubt they would be dealt with in the same confident manner she had displayed in walking up to him and chatting. It would never be wise to get on her bad side, and he shuddered to think what might happen.

Chelsea climbed into the car, and smiled at Anthea who smiled back, and then settled back to enjoy the ride. They reached the inner depths of the city, and then all of a sudden, Chelsea held up a hand.

"Can we stop here? I'll go the rest of the way on foot." The driver and Anthea looked at her in surprise. Chelsea grinned, and Anthea looked at the driver, and nodded. The car pulled over, and Chelsea stepped out of the car, and looked at Anthea. "See you later, Anthea." She said, and promptly dodged a car that nearly ran her over. Both people watched as she neatly dodged the traffic to get to the pavement where she took off in a sprint, leaping up in a spectacular way to grab hold of a lamppost, and swing up in the air, coming back down to repeat the motion with another lamppost. Anthea held up her phone, and snapped picture of her, and sent it to Mycroft, before driving off, shaking her head in wonder at the brunette freerunner.

Chelsea shot throught the London streets enjoying the burning sensation in her biceps and triceps, as she flung herself from lamppost to signpost and again, until she reached Baker Street. Grinning she noticed Sherlock in the upper window watching for her, and she smirked as she noticed the expression of astonishment on his face. Dropping the three meters to the pavement she crouched in a spring and flipped onto the doorstep, before politely knocking. She waited until the door opened, and Mrs Hudson looked at her.

"Oh hello, dear. Are you renting John's old room?" Chelsea smiled and winked at her.

"Yes, just don't tell Sherlock, I want to tell him myself." Mrs Hudson nodded, and returned the wink. Taking a deep breath Chelsea ran up the stairs, taking them four at a time, and then knocking at the door. Sherlock's baritone floated through the door.

"Yes." Pushing it open, she schooled her features into blank, and bored.

"Hello Sherlock. About flatting with you? I need to know what you're like before I agree to anything." He looked at her, and then sighed, standing up.

"I play violin music at all hours of the night, keep body parts in the fridge, do experiments all the time, go out on cases at all hours, shoot guns at the wall, and I have been told I am an arsehole all the time." He watched her intently to see her reaction, but she merely raised an eyebrow and stepped forward.

"I play my assortment of classical, pop, rock, and techno music whenever I feel the need to, I practice my parkour and freerunning, as well as martial arts and self-defence whenever I can, I sing loudly and unrepentantly, I play the piano, guitar, and I'm learning violin, beware I will burst out into random singing and I have absolutely no idea when. I love being annoying so beware that too, I am a bit of a hygiene freak, but I will ask before I move any experiments, I love telly, and I met your brother today." Sherlock had been nodding looking around, bored already, but he turned back when she mentioned Mycroft.

"Did he ask you to spy on me?" Chelsea smirked.

"Yes. He appealed to my sensibilities as an elder sibling. I accepted of course. I hope you don't mind, but I thought I could use the money." Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"He didn't intimidate you." Chelsea sighed.

"I don't think he could." Sherlock turned fully to her, and his incredulous expression was well worth it, but all he muttered was "That's a first."