Sherlock Lester (for @hellointerwebz)

Dansel in Distress (that's punny)

"This seriously sucks." She walked back into the dimly lit room, clicking buttons on a small black box before stuffing it back into her pocket. 

"You poor thing." Dan's voice groaned sarcastically from the seat in the centre of the room, lit by a low-hanging light like a bad parody of a crime film set. The whole room was comically cliche - dotted with tables and old machines, damaged books and dripping pipes (Dan was pretty sure he even heard a rat at one point) - it was the perfect evil villain hideout. Frankly, Dan felt almost like every single detail, down to the location itself, had been picked to be as ridiculous and fantastical as possible.

"Complain all you want, he's already got two strikes." As she spoke, the girl paced into the light in front of Dan - she was tall, slender, with messy blonde hair that hung halfway down her back - she looked eighteen at best. She was wearing black jeans and an "I'm a Danosaur" top, with perfectly done make-up - a look that would've been quite attractive in almost any other circumstances. She carried on walking back and forth, moving things about, not even looking up at Dan - she had a distant look in her eyes, as though she was staring at the inside of her head where numbers and calculations were rushing by. 

"What are you going to do if he gets all three?" he shuffled in the seat, trying to subtly find weak spots on the handcuffs and tug them free - and failing miserably, both at being subtle and at breaking free. His hands were tightly held behind him, attached to the back of the chair, while even his feet were loosely secured in place. 

She froze, finally looking up at him, and shrugged. 

Dan waited for an answer that didn't come, watching her slowly return to her nervous pacing and sorting. After she'd rearranged a few more boxes, he spoke again, curiously and tentatively, "You can't go through with it, can you?"  

"Go through with what?" she snapped, still focussed on organizing the random junk that filled the room.

It was Dan's turn to shrug. "Whatever it is you plan to do to me ...to us."

She stopped pacing altogether, fiddling with a small paperweight that she'd picked up, before throwing it haphazardly to one side. This time, when she looked at him, her eyes stayed there. The firm look eventually collapsed into a fearful one.

Slowly, cautiously, she lowered herself into a cross-legged sitting position on the floor before him, looking at the dirty concrete just in front of his trainers. She began tracing patterns in the dust, flicking small stones under the chair, with a thoughtful and childish expression. Dan watched her, waiting for her to speak. As the seconds ticked by, it started to sink in that she was just a kid - just some teenage girl who was in way over her head, who'd gotten ideas from a book or a film and lost her path a little bit. 

"To be honest," she said after a few moments of silence, "I..." she seemed nervous, biting her lip lightly. "Well, I think..."

"You can just untie me." Dan interrupted, trying to sound as compassionate as possible, and not even having to fake it entirely. He didn't feel afraid of the little person sat before him any more, or the soft blonde hair that he really wanted to brush away from her pale face (possibly just so that he could get a good look at it for when he went to the police). "Just let me go now and nobody ever has to know."

She looked up at him, their eyes meeting for a split second. "R... Really?"

"Really." Dan smiled reassuringly.

She smiled back softly, glancing from Dan's smooth brown eyes to the chains holding his feet. Her hand moved weakly to the key that hung around her neck, twirling it gently between her fingertips. Then Dan saw the flicker in her eye, the twitch at the side of her lip, and she couldn't hold on to the act any more - the kind smile she wore dissolved into a fit of giggles. 

When she was done laughing, she leaned back, propping herself up with her arms behind her so that she could gaze at Dan with bright green eyes, her legs still crossed. She didn't seem particularly bothered by the cold floor, or the draft that raised goosebumps all over Dan's body. "I'm not that gullible, sweetie." she said softly, tilting her head to the side.

"Fuck you." he hissed, "Help! Somebody help me!"

As he screamed, Dan tugged angrily at the handcuffs, which clattered against the chair and left red marks on his wrists - the girl watched his struggle with an expression that bordered on amusement. After a few moments of wasted energy, fighting desperately to break free, Dan slumped breathlessly against the back of the chair.

After rolling her eyes, the girl slowly stood back up, batting the dust and dirt from her hands and clothes, and crossed the short distance to stand in front of him. She leaned over him, lightly taking his chin in her hand and maneuvering his face so that she could look once again at his perfect brown eyes, which were now filling with tears.

His voice had lost the fight that was in it moments ago, coming out weak and afraid, "Why are you doing this?" 

"I was bored." 

Her index finger found its way to his neck, trailing down it so that he jolted away (so forcefully that he would've pulled the chair over, had it not been screwed down). "Plus," she added quietly, leaning in further so that she was practically whispering in his ear, "It's fun to watch you squirm."

Quicker than Dan could register what she'd said, she stood up, turned on her heel, and walked out of his field of vision. From the sounds that followed, he gathered that she was moving things about elsewhere in the room.

She waited for Dan to compose himself a little, before adding a final threat, "In answer to your question - if Phil makes one more mistake, I'll chop something off and mail it to him." Metal clanged against metal as she slid something heavy across the floor. "Probably one of your feet, you won't be needing those."