I do not own BBC Sherlock


.o0Sherlock0o.

Sweat drips down my temple. Breath heavy. Narrow pale brown eyes staring at me. Licking his lips before smirking. Jab at his ribs, duck under his swiping arms. Locks arm around my waist, throws me to the ground with as little force needed. Wraps his arms around me, almost as if were embracing. Struggle violently.

"Forfeit." He says it without emotion. Something he's good at. Snarl against him. I can feel his breath in my ear.

"Fuck you." I snap. I don't usual resort to cursing. I don't like the way it sounds. I spasm violently against him. Can feel my face burning. I hate him. Hate how much stronger he is than me. How he is just permitted authority not from intellect but from his build. He doesn't have to work at it, it's handed to him.

"Relax." He says, his hold on me solid. Never taunting. Teasing sometimes, but never cruel. Kier is kind to me. Thinks I'm broken.

"Let go." I say, frustrated. I'm calmer now, less hostile. He doesn't want to let me go. I can tell when his arms tighten a bit at my words.

"I'm scared to. You might never come back." He says it so softly I think I might be mistaken. Sometimes words like these slip from his mouth. I remember one time we where sitting on the ledge of the bridge, looking down at the river below. He looked at me. I think at the time he'd been sixteen and I only fourteen.

"I'm terrified of you." He had said. I hadn't understood and laughed at him. I remember crying that night when I was alone.

"What are you talking about?" I swallow thickly. I don't understand. I hate not comprehending. Wince as his knuckles brush my hip. Don't like being touched. Usually I don't mind Keir touching me, but right now it feels strange. Stomach's tingling.

"One day you might run off and forget all about me." He says this into my neck. We are on the gym mat, in the empty gymnasium at school. Kicking boxing is something we both have an interest in. Kier likes sports. I'm drenched in sweat, and so it he. I feel his muscles on my back. Strong and slick.

"Don't be ridiculous." Kier's my Watson. Not in the romantic sense of course. But he is my right hand man. Without him I wouldn't be able to complete half the cases I do. Whether it be intimidation, strength, or height I need him. He's my other half. Doesn't he know that even a day being separated from him brings about anxiety?

"I-" He doesn't finish the sentence. Just lifts me off the floor. We stand, my back still pressed to his chest. His arms encircling me. I feel small. Smaller than normal. Annoying. But true. Our height difference is substantial. Petite to his massive. Weak to his strong.

"I'm taking a shower." I say, pulling his arms away from my waist and going to the locker room.


St. Bart's lab. The equipment is superior to the one in our high school chemistry lab. I make sure not to coincide with my fathers schedule. We don't play well when he have to share a work space. I'm sitting at a microscope, examining an insects leg.

"Hey." A boy says. Causing me to jump. Didn't realize he'd come in. He's spoken to me before. Glance him up and down. Handsome. Thinks himself to be more than he is. Used to getting his way. College student. Pre-med judging by the scrubs. Carrying two coffees. I check my cell phone.

"I'm using the lab." I say, not looking up from my phone. Text message from Kier. Hate texting. Would much rather call and get it over swiftly than having to take too much of my time typing it out. Like ripping off a band aid. Kier is on his way, in the building. Good. He can get rid of the nuisance.

"Your name is Scarlett, right? I've heard about you." He mentions. Flip open cell phone, glance at time. Only one minute. Feels like he's been in here for half an hour. So dull.

"I'm working." I say. He laughs, nudging me. I shrink back. Hate being touched. Kier can, or my parents. Jenny is very touchy. Don't mind them, but this man. Feel my fists clench.

"You're in high school, right? You should be having fun." He informs. I look up. Having fun? I suppose some would think working boring. I find it much more enjoyable than what other teens choose to do with their spare time.

"I don't like partying." I say. He's about to ask me. His eyes widen.

"How did you know?" He asks, impressed. Feel a slight spark of gratitude.

"I saw you asking your friend for money to buy alcohol." I mutter. Glance at phone. Kier's long strides should have carried him three minutes ago. What's taking so long. Boy takes a sip of his coffee, realizing he has failed to yet offer me the other.

"I bought you coffee." He says. I purse my lips, opening my mouth to speak.

"She doesn't drink coffee." Kier says. I relax instantly. Stick out my hand and the hot chocolate it placed there firmly.

"Only drinks hot chocolate." He smirks, ruffling my hair. Glare at him, sip the warm drink. Hate coffee. Too bitter. Much prefer sweets. The young man is not nearly as smiley now. He is sticking out his chest.

"You her boyfriend?" He asks. Atrocious annunciation.

"No." We answer at the same time. Me firmly, Kier blurting. Slide my gaze to him, he's scowling. Rare for people to mistake us as a couple. Caught him by shock. Didn't think he would react so severely. Ignore them both.

"So you're single?" The boy's voice takes on a strange tone. Ignore him. Kier can handle it.

"No." Kier practically spits. Violent reaction. Kier is protective. Annoyingly so. As long as he gets the boy away from me he could say I'm a purple elephant with wings and a tiara.

"I'm married to my work." I say when it becomes awkwardly silent behind me. The boy slides beside my microscope. Slimy grin in place.

"Playing hard to get, that's hot." Anger instantly. Tilt my head, and inhale sharply. Try to reign in temper. Kier's smirking, sitting down with his legs propped up on the lab table now. It's has becoming my problem.

"You think my blatant disregard for you is an attempt to further your pursuits of me romantically." I say, turning to him completely. He leans back, smiling.

"I don't mind chasing you a bit." He announces. I pluck off the top of my drink.

"Is that right? Then let me make it perfectly clear how much I long for your attentions." I purr, using my most falsely seductive voice. I suppose it's not made apparent I'm being sarcastic because the boy is grinning widely. I dump the coffee over his head.

"I loathe coffee." I grunt. Tossing the cup at his spluttering face. It drips down to stain his scrubs and his hair flattens on his drenched face.

"You bitch!" He snaps. Kier hauls him off when he makes a lunge for me.


I run up the stairs, out of breath from excitement. I'm drumming with pleasure. I nearly skip on my way to Kier's apartment. Pulling out my key I yank it open. His pants are half way pulled up, his frowns at me.

"You should knock." He says, his face without emotion. My bright smile falters.

"Why are you dressing up? We have a case." I say, he scoffs.

"I have a date, I'm not going." He says. I drop onto his couch, kicking my feet on his coffee table. Small apartment, only a couch, TV, and cot. Kitchen has a tiny stove and mini fridge. Kier looks nice in the suits. Fits his long limbs nicely. How'd he afford that?

"You're coming." I say, reaching forward and plucking a piece of fruit from the bowel on the table. I nibble on the apple.

"I'm busy tonight. Find someone else to be your ladder." Bitter. Angry. Why? Never minded being my ladder before. Something happened. Have to fix it.

"You're not just my ladder," I stand. I help him fix his tie. He looks down at me, his hands stilling, hovering over mine.

"You lift big boxes too." I smile. He laughs and shakes his head. I like his laugh. It's deep and soft, not loud an obnoxious like some people. He never laughs unless he finds something truly amusing.

"You're a handful." He says, touching my hair. Like John he seems mesmerized by it. His calloused fingers stroke through the long wavy strands. Feels strangely nice. Interesting.

"Don't go." I murmur. I don't want him to go. Hate his stupid, tedious dates. Silly girls who gush over him, giggling. We have much more fun arguing and wrestling. He leans forward and I lean up, our foreheads rest against each other. An act we've done since children. A bond. My Kier.

"Okay." He whispers.


"Dear God, you are an idiot!" I seethe. Broken forearm.

"Sorry." He grunts in pain. Cradling the wounded appendage to his broad chest. Moron! Fool! I want to hurl insults at him. If he'd let me take the blow to the chest I might have a bruised rib, maybe a crack. But no. He had to go all 'hero' and block it with his forearm. It shattered. I could see the bones jutting out beneath his skin. We sat crouched behind gravestone.

"Stay here, I'll chase them down." I call, pulling out the phone. Lestrade. Even I can't bring down four men. Underestimated the severity of this case. Thought it was only one genius man. Dull. Turned out to be a group of mildly intelligent men. Makes the whole case much less intriguing. Kieran got hurt for nothing.

"The hell you are." He snaps. Voice colder than the chilly air. He grips my arm. First instinct to resist. Don't want to hurt him more. Knowing him, he'd hold on. I lean back against the stone, lifting my head to the sky. I pull out my phone.

"Lestrade. Yes, the cemetery on the outskirts of London. Group of men responsible for all the bodies floating down the river. They where able to sneak into cemetery by working the night shift as grave diggers. Smuggled them out in gardening vans. Kier is hurt. Bring an ambulance. Hurry." I say quickly. Not even in the mood for Lestrade. Annoyed beyond belief that Kier is hurt.

"I should have left you there, withering on the ground until they sent you floating down the river too." I spat. So angry. Kier is always a good punching bag. He doesn't mind.

"Yeah, well you didn't." He's in pain. I shift against his good side. Offering him my warmth. I curl against him, using my body to shield him from the wind. He relaxes instantly. Like he's freezing and I'm the blanket.

"Don't fall asleep." He might have a minor concussion. Got knocked in the head by a stray shovel handle when we where making our getaway.

"I won't." His voice weary. He's staring at me, I can see from my peripheral vision. Ignore it. Need to think. Wrap and arm around Kier's muscled arm. Think.

"It wasn't random." I say aloud. Always helps to bounce ideas off of a wall. In my case the wall happens to be a young man, just as thick though. Numbers. Glance at a grave in front of us. I'm thinking of numbers. Why? Was I thinking out loud. Don't bother asking. Tedious.

"Hmm." Kier's not paying attention. Nuzzling into the top of my heart. Keep track of his heartbeat subconsciously to make sure he doesn't doze off. His pulse is strangely quick, must be in more pain than I thought.

"I need to get a look in that grave. They left it barely covered, still looking for us. Took too long to start digging. They're doing something down there. I need to see what." I say, settling on my knees. Kier comes out of his daze to look at me. Long legs sprawled before us.

"What?" He asks. I jump back, away from his long arms.

"Stay here, stay quiet. I'll be right back." I slip behind the gravestones. Finally able to appreciate my small stature, easier to hide. Flashlights swing beneath my sneaker and I jump back, ducking behind stone.

"Did you hear something?" A man's deep voice asks. Not sharp, and clear like Kier's. Sounds dull, stupid, unintelligent.

"Nope." Another answers. Dart passed them when a gust of wind picks up, rattling branches and twigs. Jog down the small hill to the grave site, abandoned and only half full. Jump into it. Pick up shovel and rapidly off clear the dirt. Curse as I miss the ledge and sent a wave of it over me, clumping in my hair and dark clothes. Lovely. Use the edge of the shovel when I come to the edge of the capsule. Pry it open. Blink.

"Oh, beautiful." I breathe, dropping to my knees. Underground trade. Lestrade had just been complaining how criminals where somehow able to transfer files, money, and jewels where no one could see them. It had been nagging me. Here it was. They used the empty coffins to store the treasure. Not having anywhere to put the body they tossed it in the river. So bloody obvious. Numbers. Numbers! I saw numbers in Lestrade's office. Peer up at headstone. Rather than accidentally stumbling upon a grave with the same name they used dates and initials. Codes! When they received payment they gave the buyer the code for the tomb. Brilliant!

"Hey!" A shout above me. I try scrambling out of the coffin. A man shoves me back in, aiming a gun at me. I tremble. My mind it working on three separate strategies. I can duck down into the grave, hide in the coffin. I'm small enough to curl one spot. Most likely he will shoot the center first then go to the edges. Or I could use the shovel to slam against his feet. Also can throw dirt in his face. Act. Act! Do something!

Boom! The man tumbles into the grave beside me. Most likely dead. Angry blue eyes. Father.

"Figured it out before me. I'm impressed." He says it in a way that sounds very unimpressed. I'm grinning from ear to ear as he helps me out.

"The numbers-"

"The numbers where the dates inscribed on the headstone. Yes, I've observed." Sherlock's furious. This was a huge case. I'd solved it before my Dad. Me! I feel giddy. Wringing my hands together. Preparing to brag. A gunshot. My eyes widen. My heart picking up before my mind can catch up. Kieran. I run, ignoring my fathers screams. I race over the graves. The moonlight creates a dim path.

Kieran! The man is standing over him, gun in hand. Blood. Can't see him, gravestone blocking my view. Only his shoulder. Oh God. Oh God. I'm screaming. Realize I took my fathers gun, hadn't noticed. Shoot the man, kill him. Lays dead. Him and Kierans blood mixing. Shake as I come around the stone to see the damage.

"Kieran." I breathe, dropping to his side with a whimper. Shot on the chest. Ironic, it's nearly exactly where John was shot. Bastard had been aiming at his heart, just a millimeter above the pumping organ. His breath is ragged. Stick my finger into the wound, he cries out. Can feel his heart flutter against my fingers.

"My hero." He grins, teeth bloody. Internal bleeding. Sirens. Ambulance. Feel my shoulders slump. Relief.

"To the rescue." I say, brushing his damp hair from his forehead. His labored breathing is increasing. Grits his teeth, but I can feel his heart beneath my fingers. It's fading, but still there.

"Kieran." I call his name and it stutters awake. Pumping strongly. I hold him, my free hand stroking the nape of his neck.

"You're gonna be okay." I declare. He nods, resting his forehead against mine.


The bullet grazed his heart. Barely. It would heal. Didn't even need surgery. Just had to stitch up the ugly wound that healed like a spiders web over his heart. Mine. I touched it. I felt his life beneath my finger tips. He belonged to me. I rested my cheek against his strong thigh. He was sleeping. The drugs they'd given him had knocked out his massive form. He lay still on the hospital bed. So still.

"Boring." I declared. He shifted in his sleep. Nuzzle his thigh. I'd been crying on the way to the hospital. Not nearly as humiliated as I should have been. Angry sobs had wracked my body as they took him to the ER to get him stable. He'd called my name. Over and over.

'Scarlett. Scarlett. Scarlett.' Just like the color dripping from his tan chest. I wake up realizing someone has their knuckles brushing my forehead. Look up, Kier is smiling lazily at me.

"We solved a case that took down the biggest crime ring in London." I informed. He smiled at me endearingly.

"S'that right?" His words slurred a bit. His eyes don't look as keen as usual. The medicine has put him in a stupor.

"Yes." I reply, his fingers touch my neck. Usually I'd get a sour look, but I allow him the touch. I'd been scared. I want to assure myself he is okay. I climb on the bed beside him, easily slotting myself against his side. The cast on his arm is uncomfortable on my back. I've already filled it with scribbles. Mostly insults at Kieran for going and getting himself shot.

"You love me." His voice his too loose. He usually keeps a tight reign on his feelings, his words. Feel like I'm not supposed to hear him talk. Taking advantage of him. Still curious though.

"I suppose so." I answer. I didn't believe in 'love' in the romantic sense. Humans just weren't meant to be life partners. Didn't make sense, went against the laws of human procreation. But I did know I loved my father. I loved John, and Jenny, and of course I loved Kier. So yes, in a family sense I suppose I did.

"Say it." Kier's pouting. Looks strange on such an adult chiseled face. Remotely realize he's not wearing his usual baseball cap. Plain blue and white, nothing special. Gave it to him when we where kids. Wears the damn thing whenever we are outside of school. Must have lost it in the grave. Need to have Lestrade retrieve it.

"I love you." I say. His lips are suddenly burning against mine. I freeze. Not the first time Kier's kissed me. Only boy to ever do so. Kissed me when we were kids twice. I was only in fourth grade the first time. He'd said it was because I was crying. Second time I was twelve. It had been a peck, just a press of lips but I'd been angry. I'd hit him, told him to never do it again. He promised not to. Liar.

"Mphf!" I gasp against his lips. His cast is working as a bar against my lower back, pulling me to his chest crushingly. Squirm, paw at his side. Don't want to tug at the stitches. Frantic kissing. Lips wet and hot on my own. Feels strange in my stomach. Can't breath. Feel black spots littering my vision when he pulls away. I inhale a great breath of air.

"You basta-" He slides his hand over the back of my head, forcing another kiss. This one is softer, more careful. Lips a caress over my bruised ones. Knot fingers in his hair, trying to pull him back. He refuses, his tongue sliding over mine. I cry out, falling off the bed I pull away so hard. My entire body is tingling. He's looking dazedly at the ceiling.

"Wow." He hums in bliss. His eyes flicker close and within a few seconds he snoring. I fumble my hands to my mouth, still burning from his searing kisses. Glaring at the floor I drop with a huff back into my seat, thinking of the last few moments on repeat. I'll kill him when he wakes up.