Marriage of Wits - Sherlock Holmes

She was both Petals and Thorns

"Why are you here?" Sherlock grumbles as he walks down the bustling streets of London with his little sister in tow. Mornings in London were always the busiest. Each road and alley full of people trying to get to work or salesmen trying to sell products. The air smelt like baked goods and smoke. The only thing that at peace was the clear blue sky above.
Enola happily munched on a muffin she had pestered Sherlock into buying for her, her wild hair in knots as she practically bounced around. "I just happened to see you and thought you looked very sad and lonely,"
"I'm not sad and neither am I lonely," Sherlock protests. He makes a sharp turn down a small alleyway in hopes of getting to his intended destination faster.
"Mycroft thinks you are," Enola has to half jog to keep up with her big brother's pace.
"Since when do you listen to him?" Throwing back Enola a glance he continues to walk towards a large, abandoned building in the distance.
"Since never but I happen to agree with him for once," The two emerge from the alley to the large rustic building in front. Its walls looked to be slightly eroded, its previous white colour now a murkier brown. Weeds had begun to grow on the sides, its front gate neglected and opened. Enola glanced at the sign at the front. "17 Sherrylane Avenue? Sherlock, what are we doing here?"
"I am here investigating a lead on a case. You should be on your way back home. Go pester your boyfriend instead," Sherlock pulls open the front gate and then tries to open the door. It shakes slightly but doesn't budge. When it seemed futile, he decided to just break the door handle.
"Is this the Moriarty case," Sherlock doesn't even need to respond to answer. The slight furrow of her brother's eyebrow is answer enough. "Let me help,"
Sherlock cursed the fact that his sister was too quick witted for her own good. He knew it was fruitless to convince her to leave so with a heavy sigh, he nodded. "Stay close,"
The two Holmes's enter the rustic building. Inside the whole place was falling apart. There was rubble on the floor, any of the furniture left was covered in cobwebs and Enola could have sworn she saw a rat scurry across the floor in her peripherals. "What was this place?" Enola swiping her fingers against a dusty banister.
"Used to be an old building used by the government. I think there is something here that Moriarty wants me to find. She's playing games," Sherlock responds. His eyes catch on a fireplace, and he walks up to it inspecting it. Something about it seemed odd.
"This is just an office building. Looks like it was abandoned around two decades ago judging by the decay," Enola says looking at the cracks on the wall and the slight rust of the metal. Sherlock can't help but feel a small swell of pride.
"Correct although..." Sherlocks fingers glaze around the fireplace until he feels a slight ridge. Applying pressure, he watches as the fireplace swings open to reveal a hidden staircase. "Scratches on the floor," He explains upon seeing Enola's surprised face. With a pout Enola pushes past him and climbs down the staircase.
When they both descend, they arrive at a large room. The room seems to hold a bunch of individual offices, the tables in them long cleared out. Without anything there it seems quite bland. The only things left are a few stray paintings, outlets for equipment, and the odd empty weapons casket. "I don't think many government offices are supposed to have hidden rooms like this."
"Maybe it's not a government building," Enola suggests.
"Or?" Sherlock waits for a moment to let Enola come to his own conclusion.
"It's secret intelligence?" Enola says with wide eyes. Sherlock nods walking around the room and Enola practically gleams with excitement as she explores.
Sherlocks eyes then catch on a painting. It looks quite old, seeming to be a depiction of a renaissance battle. He carefully takes it off revealing a file cabinet behind it. When he tries to open it, he finds that its already unlocked. Inside its empty but also Sherlock can tell from the dust marks that it held some sort of a file until recently. That and the lack of dust on the frame compared to the rest of the room alarms Sherlock. Its then that he finally catches on to the fact that they are not alone in the room. "Enola stay close. I think someone else is here."
Carefully pacing around the room, he catches a glimpse of a hooded figure sneak back upstairs. In flash he's running after them. "Sherlock," Enola shouts following pursuit. Sherlock continues his chase. The figure he's chasing however is nimble. They seem to know the building well, taking turns left and right to try and lose Sherlock. At one point they arrive at an open window. They climb through it and jump down onto the streets bellow. Sherlock has to take a detour, not being able to fit through the small windowsill. It allows Enola to catch up on him.
"You go one way and I'll go the other. We can corner..." Sherlock pauses for a moment to catch his breath.
Enola cuts him off. "Got it," She says before taking off. Sherlock runs back to the entrance. In the distance he can see the suspect. Sherlock may not be as fast as them but he's smart. As he chases them, he is able to catch them cornered in the street. This allows him to get a better look at the induvial. They are in a navy coat, a black mask covering half their face and hood shielding the rest. The only thing he can see are their eyes, piercing brown eyes that Sherlock swears he finds familiar. In their hands is a file.
"I think I'll be taking that," When Sherlock steps forward a kick is thrown to his chest. Catching their foot, Sherlock throws his own counter move which fails to meet its target. He hates to admit it, but his opponent was far more skilled than he was. Any move he threw out was effortlessly blocked or redirected. It doesn't take long for them to gain the upper hand. Sherlocks eyes glance at the knife strapped to their waist. If whoever this was wanted to kill him, they might of already. His opponent instead decides to sweep Sherlock off his feet and knock him to the ground. Slightly winded, Sherlock tries to sit back up. By the time he does he catches a glimpse of a blue figure scaling the side of a wall before disappearing onto the roof. Behind him he can head Enola's hurried footsteps.
Panting heavily, she grabs Sherlocks elbow and tries to pull him up. "Whoever that man was certainly kicked your arse,"
"No. I let them go," Sherlock grumbles. If Enola didn't know him any better, she would of thought he seemed embarrassed but no he was anything but that. He almost sounded amazed. "And he's not a man. He's a woman,"
"Even better." Enola smiles.
Sherlock elects to ignore her and begins to walk away. "Im going back to baker street,"
"I think she definitely got the better of you." Enola says catching up to him.
"Did not,"
"Did too,"