I do not own BBC Sherlock.


.o0Sherlock0o.

A/N: 'Investigative Analyst Scarlett Holmes' is the sequel to this story. Please review if you'd like me to continue it. Thinking about cancelling the sequel because of so little reviews. Here is the first chapter, read and review!

Shoulder dangling limply at my side. Popped out of socket? Shift slightly. Groan in pain. Definitely.

"Quiet." Kier pants above me, his larger body pinning me to the wall. I scowl up at him. People consider him my friend, I consider him the annoying prat who follows be around. Occasionally he can be of help, when something heavy needs lifting.

"My arm." I complain against his chest. He glances down, peering around the wall before gripping my arm firmly in his large grasp. I bit at his shoulder as he jerks it back into socket. Muffled scream.

"You okay?" He gasped, worry reflecting in soft brown eyes. Nod, assure him. Boring.

"Are they still there?" I whisper. He nods, still protectively obscuring my body with his own. Boring, tedious. Thinks of me as his little friend who needs to be protected. Want to elbow him in the stomach, teach him a lesson.

"Let's go." I cough. Rib bruised? Need to learn to fight better, Kier is a much more avid fighter than I. Annoying.

"You're hurt, we're going home." He says sternly.

"I already have two fathers, I don't need a third." I comment briskly. He tenses, glances down at me. The height disadvantage makes him think I'm small, a child who needs to be protected.

"This is dangerous. I'm not letting you get hurt, again." He says, much to my frustration he is stronger than me by a wide margin. If he truly wants to drag me somewhere he is able, especially in my damaged state.

"I'm already injured. If that was your objective you've done a bang up job. Just leave, I'm fine on my own." Insult his ability to protect me. One of his touchy areas. Doesn't like it pointed out that he can't control me.

"I'm not leaving." He says. We've been 'friends' too long. He knows my manipulation tricks. He let's them slide off his shoulders. Too calm, too patient. Makes my blood boil.

"Lestrade will come if I need him." I comment, something snaps. He hates when I bring up Lestrade. Beneath his calm light brown eyes something is burning. I smirk.

"Let's go." He says, gripping my hands and dragging me to the office overlooking the Thames river. We leave the ally and enter the building. Kier's usual stoic face collapses with anxiety.

"Can we phone the police? This girls been mugged." Kier says frantically. The usual soothing tone of his deep voice vanishes for a prattling idiot. The woman at the front desk nods, worry. Doesn't even stop to think why two teenagers wouldn't have cell phones in this day and age.

"Hello, yes? My name is Don Finnegan. A girl's been mugged in the ally near the- Oh! Yes, we're inside the Letterman building along the Thames. Please hurry!" Kier rasped into the dial tone. He handed the phone back to the girl.

"I'm going to vomit." I sob pitifully.

"Take her to the bathroom!" The receptionist cries. Kier nods, leading me down the hall. His warm hand holds beneath my ribs, leading me until we vanish from her vision.

"Ten minutes before she gets suspicious." Kier says, straightening. I nod, glancing around.

"You're father is going to kill me." Kier mentions.

"Which one?" I ask, he sighs. Glancing up and down the halls I spot the room with the most likely vantage point.

"There." I say, running down the hall. Cursing at the locked door, I motion for Kier. He drops to one knee, pulling the lock pick from his pocket. The one I stole from my father. Never had the patience for lock picking, left it for Kier to manage. The door opens. I moan in delight, spreading my fingers. The image before me beautiful.

"Oh perfect!" I call, spinning around in glee. The room is a blood bath.

"Call Lestrade!" I laugh, dropping to inspect the marks. Papers strewn all over the room. Struggle. Glance rapidly around, my eyes straining for every detail.

"Get out!" I hiss when Kier's massive body takes up a part of the room, hiding it from my gaze. Rolling his eyes heaven ward he steps out, shutting the door behind me. Doesn't add up. Where's the body? No marks on the floor, couldn't have taken it out while it was still dripping. No time. Heating snaps on. Annoying. Where is it? Where could the body be stowed? Think, think. Where? Sniff.

"Oh ho ho." I chuckle.

"Kier!" I call, he opens the door. Finishes a few words, snaps his phone shut. Motion for him. He opens the vent that's out of my reach. Hold my arms out like a child, he lifts me. A dead man's broken body is shoved into the vent. A rumpled suit covered in blood. Press my knees on Kier's shoulders, inspect body.

"Multiple stab wounds."

"Your crotch is in my face." He grunts. Ignore him. Slit across neck? Why, the stabbing would be enough. Oh! I see.

"An argument, someone who hated this man. Premeditated." Tug at his pockets. Wallet not there. Curse.

"Stop fondling me." I mutter.

"I'm not!" Kier snaps. Smirk. Cell phone buzzes, ignore it.

"We're going to get caught." Kier says. Ignore him. I'm missing something. Noise. Ignore. Why would he leave the body hidden but not clean up his office. Didn't have enough time. Was interrupted? By who? Eyes widen.

"Kier!" I scream. Kier's fast, natural quick reflexes. Swoops me down and drops me into a princess hold. Runs from the room.

"Let go! We have to capture the murder!" I curse, slapping at his chest. Kier glares behind us, racing down the halls with the bumbling murderer who had been hidden in his bathroom.

"Are you kidding me? He has a knife." Kier mutters. Yelp as Kier barrels down the stairs. Humiliating.

"I can run!" I hiss, clawing at his shoulders. He winces but doesn't release me. Rounds a corner. Sirens. Flush a bit. Lestrade. Elbow Kier, nearly drops me. Enough. I jump from his hold, slamming him to the wall. Grunts.

"He's coming." Kier pants. I tug at his pants, glance up. His cheeks are red. Unbuckle belt. Kier's narrow hips, his jeans slide low on them. Belt gets caught in jeans. Pull.

"Scarlett!" Kier gasps. Shove him back against the wall when he tries to sit up.

"Distract him!" I snap. Kier jumps out from behind the corner. The bloody business man trembles, Kier is intimidating in his size. A large, fit young man with a strong build. Murder realizes he has a knife, swipes at him. Kier breathes heavily, lifting his fist in boxer style. Ducks another swing. Curses as it catches his stomach, rips open his shirt. Blood.

"Hey!" I scream. Hatred. I don't like when Kier is hurt . Man whips around, looking at me. Swipes. Not as fast as Kier. Kier slams him to the ground. I snap his wrist back. Not necessary, but I still break it. Payment for Kier's injury. Bloody knife falls with a dull thump on the carpet. Push Kier out of the way. Secure murderer with Kier's belt.

"Scarlett!" Lestrade shouts, running up the stairs. Heart flutters. I grin, sitting on top of my prize.

"The body is in the vent of his office. The victim took his promotion, better salesman. Jealousy. Murderer lured him into the office, locked the door murdered him only an hour ago. Multiple stab wounds to the torso, slit neck." I recited. Where those enough words to get my point across. It was hard for me to follow a normal persons thought pattern. Lestrade motioned for his officer to retrain the man squirming beneath me. I allow Lestrade to carefully lift me off the man. Why so careful? Oh. I was stabbed too. Wince. Dad and John are going to hear about this.

"What am I going to do with you? I can barely handle your father." He groans, his large tan hands holding my shoulders. I realize I'm blushing. Annoying.

"If you didn't give my dad all the good cases I wouldn't have to go behind your back." I say, frown when his hands leave me. Sniff. Scowl. Smells like Mycroft. Fat lard.

"You're only sixteen-"

"Nearly seventeen." I add.

"I can't let a teenager in on cases. I already get hell for allowing your father to be a consulting detective-"

"Investigative Analyst. Put Kier on then, I'll assist him. Legally he is an adult." I correct him with my title. Much more accurate than my fathers. He rolls his eyes. Kier's before me, his fingers running over my stomach.

"You're hurt, were are the medics!" He shouts. Shock, Kier rarely raises his voice. Our wounds are identical.

"You're hurt too." I point out, he blocks my vision with his ridiculously large body. Glare at him when Lestrade leaves because of his fretting.

"I jostled you when we where running. Are you okay?" He says. Always worrying about me. Slap his hands away. Go to Lestrade. Handsome tan flesh. Bright white teeth. Gray messy hair. Resist swooning.

"How did you know the murder would take place?" Lestrade asked on my approach, his gaze fixed on the scribbling he's doing in his notepad. His eyes flashing to Kier who is probably glaring behind me.

"We saw the goons down at a pier on the Thames. We happened to be passing by when they spoke of a body they where going to have to dispose of. No details, but they gestured to this building. We got caught listening, roughed up a bit. I calculated the general vicinity of where they where, and where the murderer would be able to give them a clear signal. Found the office and the body. Murderer came up from behind us." I detailed. Enough words? Lestrade seemed to get the gist of it and nodded.

"You're a brilliant girl, Scarlett." He sighed. I felt myself flush at his compliment.

"J-Jenny-" Scowl at the stutter. Ridiculous teenage hormones.

"She's still upset with you." Lestrade smiles at me. I swoon.

"I already apologized, what more does she want?" I blurt. Lestrade snorts.

"You'll have to talk to her about it." He says. Jenny, sweet, lovely Jenny. Looks like her father. Probably why I keep a 'friendship' with her. Lying to myself. I like her, enjoy her company. She thinks I'm weird, like her father. Laughs at me, but with endearment. Calls me brilliant when other people say I'm a freak.

"I didn't mean to miss it." I say. Her eighteenth birthday party. Kier went. Said it was fun. Last thing I want to do is get rubbed on my a lusty teenager. Should have went for her. Meant to. Got distracted by the mold growing in the sink. When I told her that she yelled at me. Maybe if I showed her the studies and reports I write on it she would forgive me?

"Can I go home with you?" I ask. A few officers turn, looking at us. Blink up at them. Lestrade blushes.

"Uh, sure. By why don't we get you fixed up first, let your parents know where you are." He says, nodding to my keeper. Kier's angry. He leads me to the ambulance. We side side by side as we get patched up. Kier needs stitches, mines minor. Won't even scar.

"You're mad at me." I say once the medic goes to ask for more sterile bandages from another ambulance. Kier's glaring straight ahead. Won't look at me. He's pissed.

"I'm not." He says, fumbles with the bandage. Hesitate. Lean over and nudge his shoulder with my cheek, rest it there. He stiffens before relaxing. He loves to be touched. Strange, I hate it. It calms him, makes him forgive me when I touch him.

"Don't think I'm forgiving you, cause' I'm not." He mutters. It's a lie though. Kier can't stay angry at me. Not sure why. I can not speak to him for weeks on end, but he can barely be angry at me unless I purposely get myself injured. Then he is livid.

"I apologize." I say. My right hand man. Some might say 'best friend'. I like his scent. Masculine. Something I've grown up with. Inhale. Soothing.

"We're going to Jenny's. I need to apologize to her, as well." I sigh, resting my head on his shoulder. Too much apologizing for my taste. The only two people other than my parents I will apologize too. Rarely Jenny, but always Kier.

"I can't. I've got a date." He says, his eyes flickering from mine for a moment. I sit up, scowling.

"You're lying. Why?" I ask. Dates aren't unusual for him. Tedious. I remember the tantrum I threw when he went on his first date when he was fifteen and I only twelve. None could get close to him. Said he was too closed off, too cold. Too unfeeling, distant. Yeah right, Kier was a pain in the ass with all his emotions.

"I'm not." He lied again. Brain works rapidly. Kier never lies to me. Why wouldn't he go with me to Jenny's? In pain? No, I'm hurt. Usually he'd come spend the night at the flat on 221B from even a scratch. Then why? Past references. Doesn't mind going to Jenny's. Only occasionally refuses. Connecting factor? Lestrade.

"You don't want to go because Lestrade will be there." I state. Should have realized it before. Berate myself for not paying attention. Kier scoffs, looks away from me.

"Once again Scarlett, you've got it all figured out." Angry again. Sigh. Annoying. Slide my hand into his. Shocked before relaxing. Loves the contact, practically melts from it. Still working out why he adores it so. His hand is much larger than mine, the texture rougher.

"Come with me." I say, my voice soft with playacting. He rolls his eyes, hearing it. Hard to trick Kier, knows me too well.

"Alright." He gives in.