Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. Sad, predictable, but true - nothing's mine except the plot. (If any.)

I also do not own Revolution - which, I presume, belongs to it's creators (be damned if I can remember their names) - though I look forward to seeing it back on the air.

Basically what I mean here is that I do not intend to commit copyright infringement at all. So if I do, I'm sorry.


Mycroft Holmes knew what was coming. Though he was powerless to stop it. Not even the most powerful man in Britain - in all the Commonwealth, really - could prevent this inevitability.

He sighed in resigned acceptance. There was no changing the past. What was done, was done. He could only look to the future.

He gazed out his window as carlights twinkled and the flocks of sheep-like citizens made their way to their houses.

A change was coming. An unknown path. Dark times lay ahead. 'A revolution.' Mycroft thought bitterly, considering his glass of fine scotch.

Mycroft prayed that Sherlock would be alright - truthfully he had little doubts of his brother's survival, with the good doctor at his side.

Then again, for a man of logic, Mycroft prayed alot that day.

He stood at his window on the top floor of the Houses of Parliment. He observed the lights of the city - it's life force, his home.

Car lights raced back and forth like ants in a colony, blazing like fire. As if London were burning. His gilded hall in all it's glory.

Then it happened. The Black Out. In rapid succession the lights of the country died. The sudden darkness was akin to the horrific, smouldering, ashy aftermath of a bush fire.

Silence fell on the city of London.

Mycroft finished his scotch, hawk-like eyes on his fallen kingdom.

Then the screaming began.


A/N: Thanks to The Death Frisbee, jack63kids and thedragonaunt for their advice on tumblers, alcohol differences and drabbles. Also thanks to all the ladies in Mrs Hudson's Kitchen for helping me and keeping me entertained through my dry spell.

This came to me in the middle of the night after a legendary spout of writer's block, that shall forever go down in my history as The Great Word Block of 0'13.

I probably won't be all that reliable with updates, but next up: Jim Moriarty! (If I haven't updated in two weeks feel free to send me a PM with a cyber kick up the backside!)

Thank you for reading, enjoy your day!

Any and all reviews and PM's are welcome, whether you liked it or not. Constructive criticism is very useful to me. I will endevour to respond to all of them.