It was 3am when the intruder alarm went off, Lucy hadn't been more than dosing fully clothed, lying on the palatial bed, but the sound jerked her to full wakefulness. She could hear the wind and rain battering the window of her room, and groaned.

She sat up carefully, and ensured her browning was armed before walking out of the bedroom and into the darkened hallway. The sound of the intruder alarm was duller here, and the only sign of the weather was the whistling of drafts through the halls corridors.

Andrew's door was closed, so she crept along the corridor and knocked.

"Andy? You okay?" she called softly

"Mmm yeah, is he here?" came the voice from the other side of the door

"Think so, stay there, lock the door, stick to the plan, see you in a bit."

The Bluebeard Husband would be looking for revenge, it would come down on the head of his adversary stepson. They knew he'd returned to the UK, they knew he was out for revenge, and it was deemed politic to remove him in a single well justified hit, as he attempted to carry out that revenge.

Lucy had been told to expect the attack, and now it was underway it seemed laughable to her. All the men and power Mycroft had at his command, he'd arranged a 30 year old Mum of two to stand between a healthy young fit Lawyer and his embittered step-father. Still her 10 years of Holme's insanity had left her an excellent agent, unemotional, talented and resourceful.

She checked her gun again, and sent a quick text, to Mycroft after a moments hesitation she forwarded it to John as well.

He's here, alarm has been triggered, following plan. LSH

Creeping down the stairs, she heard the alarm click off. It shouldn't have done that, while the security lights were on, the alarm should keep trilling. She clicked the lights and swore, Bluebeard had cut the power.

Lucy had excellent nightvision, she was after all an accomplished catburglar, but it did add an edge to tonight's game. She still had the upper hand, a calm trained well armed defender who knew her terrain against a desperate, angry man out for final revenge. Still it did mean...he had very little to lose.

The window above the Victorian kitchen sink shattered, and she walked towards the noise, gently a single clean shot, would mean home to Baker Street, and a return to her normal life. Her breathing and heart rate was steady, but a slight burning sensation behind her eyes told her adrenaline was starting to flow.

The tricky part came when she reached the kitchen door, she pushed it open carefully trying to stop herself being silhouetted to her prey. She swore again as a shot rang out, a 9mm bullet split the door 12inches above were her hand. She counted to 5 and then stepped into the doorway, her eye caught movement and she fired realizing to late she'd fired at an apron flapping in the breeze. Equally giving Bluebeard an advantage, he'd no doubt seen her.

She fell back to cover resting her hair, against the solid wll, going over the kitchen in her mind, where was he?

Wall, window, countertop, table, chair, broken window, sink, lardar cupboard, wine rack, wall.

No, but she missed something.

Wall, Aga, Apron, Countertop, Chair, Shelving, Fridge, Wall

No, hang on, chair? Suddenly she knew where he was. she stepped back into the kitchen, turned sharp right and fired at the man standing on the countertop. She missed the kill shot, but hit his left arm, before she could fire again, he toppled forward on top of her, yelping in pain.

For a second her mind went blank, the mans heavy bulk crushing her, still yelping but now reaching down towards her. Both had dropped their guns, and she knew if she couldn't get passed her flashbacks she was likely to die. Now her adrenaline kicked in, and she pulled her knees up hard, catching his groin and sending him sprawling backwards. She picked up the gun again but before she could fire, another shot rang out, surprised she fell to the floor and her prey took her confusion and leapt out of the broken window.

She sat on the floor, looking for a wound, assessing for damage or shock, she could find nothing. Swearing liberally she pursued him out of the smashed window, vaguely aware that there were now 2 gunman out in the dark. She crouched under the window and sent another text.

At least 2 of them, shot 1 of them, followed out into the garden, might now need help. LSH

She crouched into the bushes searching for movement once again, there were some dark patch's in the grass, that could be blood but she couldn't be sure. Then a figure ran across her eyeline 200 yrds in front, and she gave chase. The rain and wind was howling, and within seconds she was soaked to the skin. Her hair was plastered to her face, her clothes soaked to her skin, and her soft shoes squelched as she ran. The figure in front of her turned and she fired, seeing him go down, when a cold hand grabbed her left arm and pulled her roughly into the shrubbery.

She pressed her gun to her assailants forehead, and recieved a sardonic smile in reply.

"Sherlock?" she gasped "What are you doing?"

He put his finger to his lips, and pulled her behind him deeper into the hedge. She held her breath as another figure, passed in front of them. As he passed, Sherlock stepped out of the hedge and whistled.

The man turned and raised his gun, as a shot ran out, taking the man in the forehead. Lucy turned to see John stepping out into her eyeline from the other side of the lawn.