AN: Ah, the downfall of life getting in the way of a story, it when the story gets written for you and published on national television :( However, this is my mind child, and I shall continue to develop it, integrating season 4 as I see fit. AU is a great thing :D

I'd like to thank all of those that have favourited, followed and continue to read this story (and the others). You are what keeps me motivated to explore this hobby, and I hope you continue to enjoy the product of my madness.

Yuul x

The heat was beginning to become unbearable. She could feel a thick layer of sweat accumulate on her skin. The weight of the arm that belonged to the body she was lead beside was weighing down on her chest so much she struggled to breathe. Olivia twisted herself underneath the heavy limb and slid out of the bed with a quiet thud on the cold slate laminated floor. On all fours now, she blindly searched for her clothes, still unable to pry her eyelids from their closed state. She moved, cat like around the room, quietly donning all her clothing, except her heels, and exited the room.

With the click of the hotel door, she finally opened her eyes and allowed herself to take in the cold air of the corridor, a welcome change from the stagnant air pocket from which she just came. With the cold air came the chills that occupied her entire body. She wasn't exactly dressed for the winter - but she didn't care too much right now. She was still legally drunk and feebly attempting to put her heels on as she stumbled ungraciously down the passageway towards the lift.

"Come on, come on" she impatiently pressed the button as fast as she could in her current state. After what seemed like an eternity, she staggered into the lift, grabbing the rail as soon as she could, finally catching a glimpse of her physical state as the door shut behind her.

She looked awful.

Take a drag queen, put them in a blender, let it ferment within muddy water and you'd get a basic idea of what Olivia Holmes looked like.

"Jesus" She whispered, raising one of her hands to her face, trying unsuccessfully to wipe the eye make-up from her cheek. She then attempted to calm the birds nest that was her hair but quickly abandoned the endeavour, residing herself to the fact that she still acted like a 17 year old and this was her punishment for doing so. At least her mother wasn't around to see her - she'd be more than disappointed.

Like always…

The small chime of the elevator making its stop on the ground floor was Olivia's cue to turn and walk the walk of shame through the foyer, trying her hardest to avoid eye contact of all those courteous members of staff that wished her a lovely day. She could hear the smiles in their voices, but she remained, head down and silent until she made the final steps out of the hotel she had no recollection of having entered the night before.

Just as she believed she was free to face the world full of strangers, she heard a familiar voice call her name. She was sure that she heard the doorman snicker as she sheepishly turned around to see the judgemental eyes of her eldest brother peaking over the morning's edition of The Times, sat legs crossed at a small table upon which a tray held his morning tea and, what she could only assume, was her own morning beverage, a cup of coffee, accompanied by an orange juice, a couple of tablets and a slice of toast.

"Well don't just stand there" His exasperated tone was justified. There were people, dressed from head to toe in their finest trying to use the entrance that she was blocking. Immediately, she scurried to the seat opposite Mycroft, who folded the paper and lead it on her lap, placing his hands atop the print 'matter-of-factly'.

"Eat, take, drink" He gestured towards the toast, tablets and juice with a simple nod of the head. She complied. She had no energy to argue and actually appreciated the gesture - even though she knew it was not meant to be accepted in such a positive manner. No. This was Mycroft's way of humiliating her.

She sat back in the seat and slowly ate the toast. It would have been much nicer with jam, she thought, chewing the slightly burn bread. It was slightly more effort than she was hoping to have to exert on such a trivial activity, but there was nothing she could do about it. She needed something in her stomach. Finally, she swallowed the final piece and picked up the tablets, raising her eyebrow to the man before her, who had yet to take his eyes off the woman.

"It's just Excedrin" he assured, answering her silent query. She shrugged and threw them to the back of her throat, grabbing the juice and taking a large gulp of the cold liquid. If he had wanted to poison her - he probably would have picked a less public setting to do so. Probably. She placed the glass back down onto the table and sank back into the chair, her eyes fixated onto a vacant point in space, about an inch above the table. Her only wish was for the floor to open up and swallow her whole.

"Well?" Mycroft enquired, lifting the newspaper and flapping it violently atop the table.

"Well what?" Olivia looked up, catching his eyes,

"Don't play coy" He scoffed, reaching for his tea.

"I don't consider my current state 'play' or 'coy'" She retorted, lifting both of her hands and rubbing her face.

"Is it done?" He now began to avoid her gaze, seemingly looking around. She could see his pupils dilate as he analysed every member of the public that came within 15 yards of the pair. His choice of meeting place couldn't have been more well suited. There were more than enough people to place her in the lobby of this hotel this morning. Had she simply left, she'd have been identified as a woman that looked quite shaken and left in a hurry. But thanks to Mycroft's swift interception, everyone will thus associate her with the tight lipped man who had seemingly already upset the help, as all members of the cafe attendance team avoided their table like the plague.

"Of course it's done" She yawned. "Why do you think I look like I do?" She asked, forcefully pushing her fingers through her hair in an attempt to straighten it a little "On second thought, don't answer that" she added quickly, shaking her head, an action she instantly regretted as the world began to spin around her. She probably could have done without all the extra bottles of wine her alibi had offered her - but once she started…

You see, this had not been Olivia's first rodeo. Feigning the suicide of her victims had become something akin to a party trick. And if the death of the man that was soon to be discovered in Room 36B were considered a murder, it would lead the homicide investigators around the bend on a wild goose chase that with lead them to nothing. She had been careful not to leave any incriminating evidence to suggest she'd was anywhere near the man. She'd also chosen the perfect alibi. The director of the hotel. The penthouse suite. A wild night. A lot of wine.

"Indeed. Well. Good." He began to look uncomfortable, looked away from the woman. She was sure that he was trying to block out the images that were popping into his mind about how the smart dressed woman he had spoken to yesterday had turned into the drunken mess before him. He was oh too familiar with her ways of 'dealing' with the men on her hit list. She had earned the name of succubus for a reason. Although he was far from proud of this, she was the only one who could get things done.

"Is that it?" Her voice was full of surprise, her hands falling limp on the arms of the chair.

"Is what it?" Mycroft swallowed hard, avoiding his sisters gaze.

"Now who's playing coy?" Olivia narrowed her eyes at him

"What did you expect? A pat on the back, a medal, a standing ovation?" He looked at her now, his features emotionless.

"Forget I said anything" she dismissed, pushing herself up from the chair. She really didn't need to spend more time than necessary with Mycroft and she wanted to be out of the hotel before the director awoke or the body of the man in 36B was discovered. She also really wanted to take a shower.

"You owe this country, Olivia, and you are at her disposition" He informed her, matter-of-factly.

"Owe this country?" She spoke in disbelief "This country sold me out!" She hissed

"This is neither the time nor place…"

"It never is with you." She spat. Olivia Holmes did not back down as her brother and she locked eye contact. They really had never seen eye-to-eye. Mycroft Holmes was a pompous, work-a-holic with no emotion other than a certain distaste for those he deemed beneath him. She had no desire to be tied down to any employment and loved people - sometimes a little too much. She often wondered whether she had been adopted into this crazy family, but that fact was Mycroft and Olivia were more alike than she liked to admit.

"Who was he anyway?" She finally spoke, finding the silence deafening.

"A very, very bad man" He grabbed his umbrella, folded the newspaper and set it underneath his armpit and grabbed the hat that she had not noticed, propped upon the back of the chair and stood tall over the young woman. "Thank-you" He spoke curtly, referring to the successful completion of the job he had given her just 24 hour before. "I mean it" and without another word, he exited the hotel, leaving Olivia sat, dumbfounded at the last comment he had made.

In all her years, she had never heard Mycroft thank her for anything, let alone anything work related; but she could read between the lines. When he had said 'it could only be her' - both knew it to be true. No other agent had the skills she did to do what she just did.

"Seduce and silence" She whispered to herself, returning to her seat. She grabbed the coffee that was still settled on it's saucer, no longer caring about her physical aspect. She smiled as she grabbed a sugar cube, dropped it lightly into the caffeinated beverage, and stirred. "Job done" She smiled into her cup, taking the very much needed caffeine into her system with delight, catching the eye of the man with who she had spent the night with as he walked behind the reception counter. He winked at her, a knowing smile creeping upon his face. "Oh yes" She whispered to herself, smiling back at the man" A Job well done"

It would be hours later that the body of the man would be found. The ME would put it down to a heart attack. No evidence of her being there would have been found, even if an investigation had been opened. She was too good for that. By the time she watched the news, she had made it back to her actual hotel, had taken a very much needed shower and was currently sat on the sofa, in a dressing gown reaching over to her phone that had just beeped. She had to raise an eyebrow at the message she received, a small smile dancing on her lips.

"You're getting sloppy- SH" The message read.

"I have no idea what you mean - OH" she replied

"You do. I know you do. - SH"

"I know you know I know you know. - OH"

He didn't reply - at least not through text message. Seconds later, there was a quiet knock at the door. It took a couple of seconds to register what was going on, but she jumped up and went over the door, opening it to reveal a sheepishly looking Sherlock Holmes.

"Can I come in?" He asked, his body jerking as if he was going to enter the room.

"That depends" She leant both arms upon each side of the doorway, essentially blocking the entrance with her slim frame.

"Well - on what?" He looked nervously around, already tired of the game she was about to make him play.

"On what you want" her words were direct. She still hadn't forgotten their last encounter. It still hurt to know that despite having defended Olivia throughout their lives, he was still so similar to their brother Mycroft - emotionless and inadvertently callous. Sure, she knew he never meant anything by it, but the fact that he had practically erased her from his thoughts over the past few years hurt, and he had to understand that.

"To talk" He buried his hands in his pockets and stood up straight, towering over the woman.

"Then talk" She leant against the door frame, pocking her hands much like him, psyching him out much like she knew he was doing.

Sherlock Holmes was a mercurial being, not unlike herself. He had a very hard time registering or dealing with emotions, his own or others. This was something that Olivia knew very well, and for that reason she was going to use it to her advantage. She noticed that his eyes began to dart from side to side, trying to work out which buttons he should press to exert his will, but she was one step ahead. She remained completely stoic, choosing to bury her emotions for the time being. Watching him squirm was great fun.

"Inside" He finally said, actually pointing into the room.

"Why?" She shrugged, remaining deadpan

"Oh just let me in" He rolled his eyes

"Why?"

"Olivia!" He was getting frustrated, and she had to fight not to smile

"Why?" He looked her over and huffed, turning on his heel with the aim to leave "Oh you are such a baby - come in" She shouted down the hallway, leaving the door open. She returned to her previous position on the sofa, muting the TV.

"Nice… room" She heard him say with a certain amount of forced sincerity. He had always been a terrible liar. He closed the door behind him but did not venture further into the room. Olivia shifted on the sofa to look at him.

"It's the best I could afford on the no money I have" She admitted, shrugging, pushing the cushion that had lodged itself under neither her onto the floor. There. Much more comfortable.

"I have a room -"

"I know - you've already said." She interrupted with a touch of annoyance. There were quite a few traits that all the Holmes siblings shared, and one of them was being so terribly stubborn. Despite suffering the unfavourable same personify trait. "Well?" She asked, impatient, eager to start the conversation. The quicker it started, the quicker it would end and she could continue to wallow in self-pity alone. Her head was still being attacked by the jackhammer that was her hangover.

"Who was he?" He jumped straight to it. She raised an eyebrow wondering how he'd known. The were no tell-tale signs that it was anything other than a suicide, but then again, Sherlock Holmes wasn't some dumb London cop or medical examiner.

"I don't know. I didn't ask" She shrugged, turning back to the muted TV. "Anything else?" Her tone indicating that she did not really want to have this conversation with him.

"Did you…"

"Sleep with him?" She finished his sentence. She heard his footsteps as he walked around the sofa, taking a seat next to her. She glanced at him out of her peripheral vision, noting he was extremely tense, his gaze fixated on the TV, awaiting her answer. "Yes" She finally admitted, shifting in her seat to pull her feet up upon the sofa. There was a couple of minutes silence, where she could see he was processing the information. Part of her wished he'd just get up and go. She really did not want to have this conversation with him.

"Did you have to?" He asked, and she sighed. He wasn't going to let it go.

"No - and why is it any of your concern anyway?" She asked rhetorically. "You've known all along this is the way it works"

"There must be other ways" He was looking at her now, but she remained still, her eyes clasped tightly to the moving pictures on the television.

"Probably - but i work well in a realm i know, and men…" She coughed lightly, trying to remove the frog that was clasping at her airways "Men i know well"

Olivia could feel Sherlocks eyes continue to analyse her and she did not want to know what was going through her head. The fact that she had had to admit to both brothers that she had partaken in sexual relations the night before was awkward enough, let alone knowing that both of them had images of her undertaking such acts running through their heads. It was the downfall of their intelligence - they could see anything and everything if they only thought about it.

"Well, just be careful, the police force is much more efficient these days" He finally spoke, looking back towards the TV.

"Only because they have you"

"Well, yes, but…"

"Look Sherlock" She interrupted "I can't believe that Mycroft is going to welcome me back into the agency with open arms. I'm sure it was just a one off" Sherlock visibly relaxed. Both knew the outcome of her last stint in the agency. She'd been exiled for crimes against the country that they all knew she hadn't committed. A scape-goat that Mycroft used to ensure his promotion, a position that he was still comfortably in thanks to her sacrifice. "And besides" SHe continued, needing to change the subject. "i have other things that i am more worried about." She did not see Sherlocks cocked eyebrow, but his silence was enough to know that he demanded an answer. And she gave him exactly what he wanted in the form of a name.

"Moriarty" She spoke, and his visible relaxed state returned to one that was more tense.

"What about him?"

"If Mycroft didn't know that I was coming - my return was orchestrated by Moriarty" She admitted, revealing the train of thought she'd been working on before Sherlock had arrived "And he knows everything, Sherlock" She turned to look at her brother, whose eyes mirrored hers. If anyone ever found out what they'd done… "We have to stop him, Sherlock"

"We will. I promise" Sherlocks hand met hers on the sofa. She could only muster a small smile as she thought about how true that statement was. They would stop him, and anyone else that got in the way. She wasn't sure how yet, but one way or another, Moriarty had to be stopped, even if it meant she killed him.