"William Sherlock Scott Holmes! Why is there a teenage girl in your bed!" A shrill voice yells from the doorway, the girl in question having her head buried in his pillow facing away from the entrance to the room, she is immediately awoken by the loud interruption but, out of embarrassment and slight terror, remains completely still.

"Relax Mother." Sherlock mutters, sitting a few metres away at his desk studying. He flicks his eyes from his book towards his mum, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "I believe you will be relieved when I say it's not what you think."

"Oh really? Because it looks like my fifteen year old son has snuck a girl in behind my back!"

"Hmm. Ok it may be exactly what it looks like." Resigning himself to the fact he will not get a chance to finish his book on chemical reactions to human follicles. Placing the book on his desk delicately he stands, noticing his mother approaching his bed. A wild mess of curly orange hair moves quickly to pull the sheets up to cover her face. "Mother, relax, it's just Ana."

The sheets disappear, a pillow immediately being thrown in his direction. He moves slightly to avoid contact with the projectile, slightly amused with her reaction. "What Ana? Did you just plan on pretending you weren't there all day?"

"Maybe!" Ana exclaims.

"Anastasia! Darling, what on earth has happened to your beautiful blonde hair? No. More importantly why are you in my sons bed?" The girl sitting quietly pauses in her vicious glaring at Sherlock to let tears well up in her eyes.

"Perhaps we should change the subject Mot-"

"I was talking to Ana! Sherlock." Parents! He later told Ana that they were the bane of his existence. She knew this not to be true, otherwise he would not care for them with such urgency or defend them with such honor.

"Mrs H, my mum… she kicked me out for the night." Stated so plainly one would think this was a normal occurrence for the thirteen year old. Sherlock was almost impressed with the way she could turn on the water works.

"So... you dye your hair because..?"

"Um…" His eyes plead with her not to say it, the words forming in her head becoming as clear as day for someone as gifted as himself, or at least someone who has endured Ana for years. But she just can't help it, making Sherlock Holmes' life hell is Ana's favorite pastime. Everybody needs a hobby.

"Sherlock did it!"

"Don't worry, he's just focussing on the case." John whispers, causing her memory to crash down all around her. It was probably a good thing, dwelling in the past could only bring up old nightmares. Turning her attention to the now adult Sherlock, she realises he must be lost in his mind hovel, or whatever he used to call it. Ana could recall him briefly mentioning earlier how he had collected data from Mycroft about her recent activities so he must be trying to figure out why she was being stalked in the first place.

"I know, it's ok. He'll join civilisation again when he finds something." Smiling as a thank you, Ana finishes the last of her tea.

"God, right, of course." Shaking his head with the smallest of grins on his face he almost looks like he could kick himself. "I keep forgetting you've seen all this before, sorry, I've only known about your existence for about an hour."

Ana's face drops, realising her name must not have been mentioned for years until she rudely interrupted their lives. Realising his mistake John's eyes widen. "I mean, I'm sure he meant to mention you, the situation probably just never arose… where he could... Uh…"

Suddenly, Sherlock seems to awaken from the depths of his mind, completely unaware of the disaster he has stumbled into. A look of determination on his face tells Ana he was not as fruitful in his searchings as he wished to be.

"2003?" The uncertainty on her face must be what leads to him groaning in annoyance, "2003, let me refresh your memory. Eight years ago, you were almost twenty? Almost two years after you-"

"Yeah ok, I get it." Ana interrupts before he can spout her life story in front of John. She takes a ragged breath, preparing herself for what her next words would bring. "I'm sorry, I can't tell you."

Sherlock blinks, registering her words before nodding. "Seven years ago?"

"Still can't tell you.."

"What can you tell me from the last ten years?" Before Ana can speak he quickly continues. "Oh, my brother? He employed you for several years after you left your hometown leading to a barrage of confidential work that could risk your life. Undercover work? No that doesn't seem to fit your personality. Field work than. You hate the sight of guns and gunfire reduces you to tears, unless you got over your 'phobia' your work category must fall under another subject. Your phone!"

Sherlock stands excitedly like he's won an award, joy spreading upon his face as his mind completes the puzzle.

"H-Her phone?" John questions, unsure about his friend's sudden attitude change.

"A disposable phone judging by the branding, you can clearly see it's a recent purchase by the plastic protector still covering the screen. So, new phone, in a long line of disposable cell's. The wifi purposefully set to off so it can't connect to free wifi as you wander by. A common trick to avoid someone breaking into your cellphone or laptop, any hacker would know that, or-" His face beams with his knowledge, but Ana still dreams he would go without the flair and dramatics in her case. "Any Network Forensic investigator."

"A what?" John asks, he too, had had enough of the theatrics.

"It's quite simple John, a fancy title that technically means a hacking detective. The full name seems to have more of a kick to it. So, proceeding your departure from our friendship you took my brother up on his offer of a career. Working as a network investigator for the government. You chose a career over interaction with myself. Hmm, he did always seem to like you, god knows why anyone would. Sorry, but I don't work with government employees, except on murder cases."

Ana could have whipped a comeback, or mentioned his brothers insults to her earlier that day, you know, minus the 'feelings for Sherlock bit', but she doesn't. Her brain can't even accept that he now views her as some sort of woman only after the best offer. All she could feel in that moment was her losing his help.

"Do you remember the time your mum found me in your bedroom?" Ana said, fighting back embarrassing tears. "My mother kicked me out. Screaming that I could never be her daughter."

"I don't know what this has to do with-"

"I thought it was because I had blonde hair and not brown like theirs, so I forced you to dye my hair brown, so I would look like her and my sister but when we screwed it up..." A tear slips down her face without her knowledge, of course Sherlock notices though, how could he not? "I'm still that girl Sherlock. I'm still that dumb teenager that you helped dye her hair even though you knew that it wasn't my hair that was the problem. The one you let cry all over your pillow and left orange dye stains on all your favorite towels because you didn't have the heart to tell her that the woman she was crying over wasn't even her mother. I'm that girl, still making mistakes and begging you for just one more favor."