HELLA ♚ BBC SHERLOCK

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER NINE | SHERLOCK'S GIRLFRIEND

Months... it had been months since the taxi driver case, yes, Sherlock and her had been resolving other cases but they weren't as exciting as that one. But as the time passed, Hella would still believe it was all part of her mind and nothing was exactly real which made her a little careless in some aspects... like believing she could win in a hand to hand combat with an expert of martial arts when she was mostly only trained in self-defense... still, she would outsmart the opponent by predicting their moves.

It was Sherlock who she fought the most, both would always know the weak spots of the other when it was a fight until they both concluded that the only way to win was to not have a strategy, as absurd as it sounded, Hella and Sherlock wouldn't choose their attacks and it was all dirty moves that made them actually win the fights... of course, in the end, they would always verbally fight about who was better even when they were practically the same.

"Some go to Heaven, some go to Hellllll-o"

Hella answered her phone with a wide smile on her face. She was lying on her bed playing with a dagger that she may or may not have stolen from the evidence room while Lestrade was away.

"You do realize that your endeavors of being comical are imbecilic, right?" Mycroft replied sighing.

Hella chuckled "You do realize that the more you tell me you detest this, I'll strive more in the future, right?"

"Miss Winchester, would you do me the great accolade of getting my little brother out of trouble? From what I can visually perceive in the cameras he is being manhandled by another man" the older Holmes told her.

The brown haired girl got up from her bed and started to walk towards the door still playing with the dagger in her hand; she sighed "I don't know, Mycroft. I think it's best if I don't interrupt Sherlock when he is conclusively having someone to pop his cherry."

"Miss Winchester" Mycroft snapped.

Hella groaned "Fine. I'll save his ass... again."

***

In the living room of the flat, Sherlock Holmes was under attack from a heavily robed figure whose face was almost completely shrouded in a variety of scarves. As the attacker slashed at him with a curved sword, Sherlock backed up carefully and ducked his way to avoid the blows.

The man backed Sherlock up as far as the sofa and took another swing at him. Ducking under the sword, Sherlock dropped onto the sofa in a sitting position. The attacker lifted his sword above his head with both hands and Sherlock raised a leg, kicking hard at the man's chest and shoving him backwards.

As the man stumbled back across the room, Sherlock got to his feet and took an all-important moment to straighten his jacket before charging across the room towards the man.