"I don't look for trouble
But trouble looks for me
And it's been waiting around corners
since I was seventeen
they say here
comes a hurricane
trouble is her middle name
But I don't look for trouble
Yeah trouble looks for me.

Hey, hey!"

The music played through the speakers of her skull candy earphones, her phone tucked carefully into the belt of her knee length dress as she continued to survey the bar and its occupants. She detested them, their carefree smiles as she routed out her designated targets.

Eyes landing on a man as he stood beside the bar, attempting to flirt with the pretty young waitress, failing miserably as she forced a smile and made her excuses to leave his company. No surprise really, with a glance it was obvious that she had a lot more going for her than the drunk could fathom. Moderate intelligence if the set of her eyes was anything to go by, the presentation of her uniform showing that she held herself with a moderate degree of high regard and the ink smudges upon her wrist showing that she was clearly acclimatised to long hours of written work. A student then, possibly of an academic nature rather than a vocational, the knot of her tie bringing Nova to the conclusion that the subject was likely politics. Such a pity, Nova held no regard for politicians.

The man, on the other hand, was clearly dishevelled, his speech slurred and barely distinct as he continued to speak with thin air, not quiet registering that his intended score had abandoned him in favour of keeping up her high standards. Nova smirked, not the brightest flame in the fire then, the callouses and burns upon his dominant hand proving that he was no stranger to the art of weaponry, but his bearings were not of a soldier, so a sloppy hitman perhaps judging by the lack of care to his appearance. The threadbare appearance of his jacket seemed evident that he had not had much work in the past few months. The gleam of his unfocused eyes evidence to say that it was a botched job that had led to his current misfortune.

"A poor choice of target if he wishes to regain his reputation"

The man was aiming for a high profile target in the morning, going rogue from his normal employer to reinstate himself in the business, his drinking now a sign of his nerves. It would be likely that he'd fail in his assassination, but Nova could not allow any attempt to be made, no matter how unlikely it's success proved to be. She may not have liked politicians but, as Mycroft had so adamantly expressed, that didn't mean anyone should be allowed to make an attempt on the prime ministers life.

"I just wanna live a quiet life
I make an excellent wife
Man, I swear I really try
But some boys they just can't eat it whole
Trouble is my name you know!
Trouble is my name you know!

I don't look for trouble
But trouble looks for me
And it's been waiting around corners
since I was seventeen
they say here
comes a hurricane
trouble is her middle name
But I don't look for trouble
Yeah trouble looks for me.

Hey, hey hey "

Standing from her seat, she began to saunter towards him, hips swaying seductively as she reached him and merely ran a lone finger along the length of his thigh before walking past him and beckoning for him to follow her into the back alleyway, a tempting smile upon her red painted lips as she watched him fumble to her feet. Such an easy manipulation, clearly the brains were more in the trousers by this point.

As he raced to follow her outside, nearly tripping on his own feet, and closed the back door behind him, he found himself slammed into the wall, petite hand pressed firmly to his mouth, silencing any call for help he way have wanted to make. The nuzzle of the gun placed harshly against the left temple of his skull as Nova's honey words filtered through the cold night air.

"Mr Holmes sends his regards"

The silencer on the gun lessened the sound of impact, her hand muffling the dying cry of the man as he dropped to the floor in a growing pool of his own blood. Nova barely regarded him as she holstered the weapon back into her thigh garter and turned her back from the scene, vanishing into the night like the spectre she knew herself to be, the eerie sound of her humming the British anthem to herself the only memory of her presence that night.

"I don't look for trouble
But trouble looks for me
And it's been waiting around corners
since I was seventeen
they say that girl
got so many signs
Fuck it, I'm a Gemini
But I don't look for trouble
Yeah, trouble looks for me.

Lights up let's have a toke
Pour my whiskey in my coke
Never been one of the herd
Flipping everyone the bird.
People say that I am heartless
I just learnt to use my heart less
I go hard 'cause I'm hardest
And we ain't even started yet!

Hey, Hey Hey!

Trouble

I don't look for trouble
But trouble looks for me
And it's been waiting around corners
since I was seventeen
they say here
comes a hurricane
trouble is her middle name
But I don't look for trouble
Yeah trouble looks for me.

Hey, Hey Hey!

Trouble"

*Mycroft's manor*

The constant tapping of his laptop keyboard was the only noise to be heard through the manor as he refused to lift his eyes from the screen before him, sensing the presence that loomed within the door as he continued with his work, speaking with a bored drawl.

"I trust you were successful Miss Rose"

She was silent for a moment, knowing that eventually he would look towards her, his own masked eyes finally meeting her dead ones, neither capable of showing the slightest weakness or emotion. Her smile was cold, nothing true as she stepped into the room, placing the gun upon the table.

"Risk assessment, threat analysis and damage control are all taken care of. The corpse is likely being dealt with as we speak, I have altered the records of the man, giving the appearance of extensive drug dealings and criminal records. Scotland yard will see him as nothing more than another gangland killing"

His own returning smile was calculating, taking a moment to process the woman before him. She truly did seem to be the perfect associate for one such as he.

"Such a ruthless nature you have my dear, one would think were incapable of love or compassion within that heart of yours"

Her back straightened and for a moment, he thought he witnessed a flash of sorrow within those otherwise empty orbs before vanishing as if it had never existed, her words shocking even him slightly.

"I am the spawn of a loveless mother who later took the role of my chief tormentor, the product of indoctrination and mental conditioning by a government who cared little for my fate. How would I convey love and compassion when it was never shown to me? Good night Mr Holmes, if you require me further, you shall find me in my quarters"

She was gone before he could question further, his fingers linking together beneath his chin as he thought on her words. Never shown love or compassion? Why, even he had basic knowledge of the emotions from his childhood and, whether he liked to admit it or not, was capable of showing it in the rarest of moments. But not she. After a week of having the lethal creature within his residence, she had still not shown any signs of the truth of her creation. She was forever a blank canvas, not even the personality she portrayed could truly be called her own.

"What did Baskerville do to you, my charming Miss Nova?"

His words were scattered to the silence of his home once more as, against his better judgement, he began to feel something very foreign to his heart. Pity for another.