I felt stupid. No. I felt really fucking stupid.

Three minutes into my tale, Holmes held his hand up and walked out, leaving me to sit there for awhile. I tried
many things to wake myself up from the dream, but nothing worked. Holmes came back in with Watson, and they both pulled up a chair, watching me intently as I told them how I got here and what the man, Moriarty no doubt, wanted. Of course, what should have taken 15 minutes, took an hour, seeing as every other word they made a face and I had to explain what the phrase or word meant in a certain context. So, now I sat on the couch, them staring at me. Watson, trying to be a gentleman but I could feel his disbelief and unsureness. Holmes, well, he stared intensely, but it bothered me. Not the staring, which burned my skin, but something I couldn't place before. As I looked over from Watson to Holmes, my brows came together as he raised one of his.

"I believe the lady has something to say." I opened my mouth to retort, but the look on his face told me it wouldn't be of any use. I sighed and slumped back, running a hand through my blond bangs.

"I... Can feel peoples emotions." They continued to stare and I sighed, glaring at them.

I felt stupid. Really fucking stupid.

"I don't quite believe you. In fact, there is no logical way for you to do such a feat." I rolled my eyes and stared at
Watson, letting myself open up.

"You're in love, but unsure if you can keep up with the life style." Holmes head shot back some as he looked over at Watson. Being open now, I became engrossed with his own feelings. "You've lost hope in some aspects, but you keep strong to keep Holmes out of the loop." Watson tried not to glare, but Holmes smiled, then looked at me, watching me intently. "As of now, your face is calm but inside your raging. You refuse to be a scuff, and not say anything about me digging into your emotions. It erks you to a point that someone can dissect you, even more so then Holmes does." I sat back, closing my eyes tightly, swallowing as I tried to close off my empathy. "I-I'm sorry. I... Tend to get carried away whenever I open up." I exhaled and opened my eyes to see them both staring intently at me.

"Intriguing. Was she right ol' boy?" Holmes said, looking at Watson, who simply stared at me.

"Quite." I cleared my throat, making them look at me.

"So, what are we going to do about my perdicameant?" Watson looked at Holmes as he looked up.

"Well, nothing much to do. I suppose we await until Moriarty makes his next move. Until then, I believe you are
stuck here." he proclaimed, whilst I groaned, hitting the back of my head against the wall. "I was afraid you would say that." I muttered.

*Sherlock's POV*

After some discussion, Watson left and I was left with the odd women. She fell asleep on the couch, and I was
smoking my pipe, trying to figure her out. Not only was she from the future, but she could feel other peoples'
emotions? There was no logic on the matter, but she proved it. The future part, I could almost believe, it would
make sense of her very odd clothing choices and work patterns. It left me to ponder how foul and corrupted the 21st century must be, and I more then itched to find more out. Being that she had awakened, I profiled her even more. Her brows would pinch together when she tried to think of something. Her leg would bob up and down when she was nervous. She seemed to look around mid-sentence, meaning she was easily distracted, yet was so keen on everything around her. She was an intriguing specimen, and as the days rolled on, I still could not find out everything that I wanted. She would just lay down as I would read the paper, and I ask a question about the future. It was a dull process, yet she seemed content. As the fourth day came by, I decided to pick at her, instead of the up coming times.

"Do you have a family?" She froze, making me lean forward in my chair.

"No." Her jaw clencthed, anger. Began to bite at the flesh around her nails, nervous. Eyes darting away from me, contemplating breathed out. Sad. She then looked at me, and I didn't dare move, for I could tell a tale was about to be spun.
"My mother and father died when I was three." She stood and walked past me to the window, looking out at the bleak of London winter. "They were murdered." She barley looked over her shoulder at me, as I was now turned in my chair to watch her. "Well, the police say it was a car accident, but I don't agree." I smiled some, feeling content at the fact the guards haven't changed over the years. "I was left to my grandmother, who tried to teach me to be a 'proper' lady. Bullshit that is. Ran away at 15 and lived on my own since then." She laughed a bit, a bitter one at that. "When you can tell when someone hates you, when they want to use you, or when they are just plain not worth your time..." She looked over, smirking. "You tend to live a sheltered life." A glint in her eyes told me she was trying to convey a point. A point I understood.

"Indeed." I said, turning back from my seat, not liking having her inside my head. Then I remembered a query I
wanted to ask. "Can you by chance feel my emotions?" I quipped, turning around once more to see she was looking down. "No." She said through clencthed jaws."And why's that?" I picked more at her, hiding the emense joy I felt."I don't know." She sent a glare my way and I smiled. "It... Upsets me to a degree I can't even begin to tell you." She walked over to her bag and pulled out a black jacket, putting it on over that ridicules sleeves shirt she always wears. "To not know what someone feels, their intentions..." She walked to the door and opened it, looking down. "It's almost maddening." As she was about to step out, I stopped her.

"Where are you going?"

"To wander. I can't stay cooped up in this place anymore." With that, she left, leaving me to raise an eyebrow at the information she gave me. Intriguing indeed. Not five minutes later Watson walked in, and I felt I was in need of air as well.

"Holmes! Where is she?" I shrugged, looking through some of the notes people have written me. "What do you mean? You lost her?"

"I did not lose her, being as I never wanted her. She simply left ol'boy." Watson glared at me and I stared at a note for awhile.

"Find her."

"Right." I muttered standing and grabbing a jacket, walking past him but stopping. I grabbed his boxing ticket,
making him roll his head, and I left with a smile, wanting to get the tension out of my body. Once at the
underground boxing match, I walked over to Siel, who smiled a toothless grin at me as I stripped and grabbed a bottle of wine. "Any new takers boyo?" I asked with an Irish accent.

"Yes sir! Indeed sir! Tonight as you well know is Wednesday, so that means whoever fights winner." I nodded,
closing my eyes as I drank the entire bottle. "I wouldn't mess with this new kid there Smith! He is about to start his sixth match!" I raised an eyebrow as I grabbed a whiskey bottle and just took a sip, handing him the ticket Watson had.

"Set me up for round seven boyo. I dunce want ta be outranked. ya know?" Siel bowed, nodding.

"Of course sir! . As always ." As he went to leave, I grabbed his shoulder.

"What's the guys name, eh?"

"That there he said his name was Lucas Luck! Sounds American to me." I nodded and let him go, pushing past
everyone as I got to the wall, looking at two men about to fight. One was large, very, very built and a good 6"8'. He was punching the air, getting reading to beat the ever living snot out of the small person on the other side. This man wore a bowler hat, long brown coat with trousers that where patched. He was leaning against the wooden barrier, staring down the beast of a man, taking hits off of some rum every now and then. With a last yell for bets, the small man stood, swaying some as he took of his jacket, showing a bagging white shirt, suspenders hanging on a limp on his small shoulders.

"How 'bout this." A drunk voice said, raising a hand some. "You get my hat off my head, and you win ta' match and ta' prize of... He stopped some, blinking a lot as he thought. "I don't know. How ever many pounds I have won by now." The large man laughed.

"You got yourself a deal!" A bell rang and the large man came after the one I presumed was Luck. I kept all of his moves in mine, watching as me merely dodged, punching at the sides, and kicking at the back. After a few
movements the large man grabbed a hole od the hat and I could almost feel a fire coming from Luck's eyes. With quick movements, he grabbed the mans hand, popping his wrist out of place. As the large man stumbled back, Luck punched hard at the kidney,then at his ribs, then kicked him in the dolor plex, and the match was done. I smiled as they dragged the large man away and saw Luck go back to where he was before, grabbing his bottle from a man and taking large gulps. I hopped over the barrier and walked opposite of Luck, watching intently as he froze,
bottle in mid-air.

"Up fer another laddie?" I hollered over the chaos, watching as the bottle went back down. I walked over and leaned against the wood next to him, crossing my arms. "Or, shall I say, women?" With a grin I looked over
leisurely as Luck looked down, then scowled, looking up at me with black eyes.

"How'd you know Holmes?" She growled, and I shrugged."You body frame is the same no matter how loose your clothes are. The tone of voice and confidence. Plus, there
is blond hair showing on your forehead, as I see the back of your head has black hair." She sighed and took a rather large gulp of rum, making me raise an eyebrow.

"Alright Holmes. Let's see how good you are." She looked me up and down, and I couldn't help the ego boost I felt as she had to try to look away from my torso.

*Normal POV*

"S'not fair..." I grumbled as I stumbled along side Holmes, drunk as a boat.

"You had a good run, but your moves are very crude. Easy to catch." I giggled some, blinking as I leaned against a pole.

"Not that you nutter." He stopped and looked at me, only wearing a jacket so I could still see his formed body. Funny. Watson never said anything about a good look man with a good looking body in the books. "How women can't do anything. I can't believe I have to dress up just to fight!" I laughed a bit, wobbling my head. "And kick their asses of course." He sighed some.

"Yes. Ignorance is that of this world. Come now, we must be on our way." I looked at him as everything was spinning.

"O-on it." I muttered, moving off the pole, but almost feel face first to the ground. Holmes caught me, being as I almost fell onto his as well.

"You are one odd women." He muttered and set me up straight.

"Only because you don't understand me. If you understood where I come from, you wouldn't think as much." I went to take a step but stopped, seeing he held his arm out to me, annoyed almost. I smiled some, saying sorry as I wrapped my arms around his.I used his strength to keep myself up, being I was plaaaaaaaaastered. I must say, if anything, that the 19th century as some goooooood we reached the apartment, he helped me up, and I found a nice spot on the floor, taking the hat and shirt off, showing my tank top. I pulled my hair out of the bun and fell back onto the floor, knocking the breath out of me. I laid on a tiger rug, staring at the ceiling with lids half closed.

"How did you learn how to fight?" Holmes asked, making me turned my head over ot look at him.

"When you live on your own, you learn fast that people like taking advantage of you. Besides, I don't like the whole 'damsel in distress' thing. to cliche and not my style." I looked back to the ceiling, smiling. Besides, I have anger I need to let out. What other way to do it then beating the shit out of someone bigger then you? I began to close my eyes, feeling tired after the exercise and rum running through my system. As sleep over took me, I missed the comment Holmes said.

"Indeed..."