Anatomically Correct Heart

Meeting Sherlock

Four words changed the world.

Four tiny, little words,

Spoken by the biggest man:

Did You Miss Me?

~

She doesn't scream.

She doesn't protest.

She doesn't question.

She gets up slowly and goes with the two men in the suits. Her dark brown hair swishes and sways as she's pulled into a black car, whisked away into the busy streets of London. She picks at her dark grey greatcoat and blood red scarf. The whirling buildings pass by in blurry images as they drive through the heart of London. She checks her phone for any messages, although she knew no one would text her.

Turns out she was wrong.

10 text messages from: Mycroft H.

3 calls from: Mycroft H.

"No," she whispers, before she's taken inside the tall, white building. Inside the room are chairs full of older men. There is no talk- only silence. The two men lead her into an old looking room with wallpaper that is nearly ancient. An old wooden desk sits before two ghastly but oddly comfortable chairs.

"I think you know why I summoned you here."

The girl shakes her head, looking away from the voice. She looks back up and sees the aging Holmes' boy staring at her with dark green eyes. His auburn hair is nearly balding, but there is still enough to see. He has pasty, white skin. He wears an uncomfortable looking suit. But of course, everything else in the room makes the girl uncomfortable.

"Eleanor," he whispers, "I need you're help."

"I hate you," she barely manages to whispers at him. "I hate him."

"You hated your brother even more," Mycroft whispered.

She shakes her head. "I don't want to do this."

"He's back, you-"

"I saw it, Mycroft," she snaps, "and I don't want to do it. I can't stand him."

"I understand, but we need you," he says. He pleads to her with his eyes. "He's a criminal of mass importance. He needs to be stopped."

"Why now?" She asks. "Why today?"

"Because England needs you," Mycroft says. "Its time for the world to be rid of him."

She suddenly gets up and turns towards the door. "Text me the details."

"Thank you, Eleanor."

She stops at the door and grips the doorknob. She looks at back at the very familiar face. "Just remember: I'm not going to find my brother any faster than your brother is."

Mycroft smiles. "But you two working with each other will be double as fast."

~

The girl flies out of the black cab and hands the cabbie the fare while pulling her greatcoat closer to her face. She adjusts her satchel on her shoulder and looks up a the building before her.

221B Baker Street.

She sighs and walks up to the jet black door with a gold handle. The numbers are old, she observes, as the gold paint chips away and flutters into the wind. She knocks on the door and waits a few seconds before knocking again.

"We're not buying whatever you're selling," A raspy but smooth voice says while opening the door. The man at the door has messy dark brown curls. His eyes look at the girl with sea green that have a spark of interest. He's at least 6'8", maybe taller. 6 inches taller than the mysterious girl. He is very lanky, yet very muscular (both in good ways). He wears a light grey tee shirt and a darker grey- with faded grey lines- pajama pants with a teal, silky bathrobe. His feet are bare, and he looks annoyed.