Okay, so I've been wanting to do a Broken Sword fic in ages. Until now! I was replaying The Smoking Mirror and done the first half of Ketch's landing. I couldn't get the image of George stuffing a theodolite down his freckin' shorts!

Thus, this was born.

I do not own: Broken Sword 1, Sherlock Holmes vs Jack the ripper or anything that belongs to someone else.

I do own: Alexandra Stokes, Alessa Scott and Watson the cat


George Stobbart watch Bronson stalk angrily up the steps towards him. So far his plan had worked perfectly. Now all George needed was for Bronson to play his part. George moved quickly away from the edge of the cliff and turned to face Bronson. "What the hell is going on here?" Bronson demanded.

"Hi Bronson! Nice to see you too." George chuckled. Bronson's glare increased ten fold.

"You again. Have you been screwing around with my theodolite target? Where is it? I had to climb out of the window to put that one on. Damnit! I'm going to have to go through all that again!"

George shook his head. "Not this time. The house is locked up and the sisters aren't here." Okay so maybe it was a obvious to see that the sister's weren't there. George watched Bronson turn several shades of red.

"Hell's teeth! I'll have to put the spare target on the other flagpole! A whole morning's work wasted! I'm going to fix all this and then I'm going to fix you, y'hear?"

George shrugged. "Yeah? Fine, I'll be waiting."

True to form, Bronson climbed up the propped up ladder and climbed onto the second flagpole. While Bronson was busy getting his balance, George quickly pulled the ladder down. As he placed it on the floor, Bronson slipped. Something small and shiny fell from his pocket. Bronson held onto the flagpole as tightly as he could. "Whatcha doing Bronson? Just hanging around?" George joked.

"I'm going to kill you for this Stobbart! Get me down from here!"

"What? So you can kill me? Gee Bronson, you talked me out of it."

As Bronson struggled to get a grip on the flagpole, George was drawn to the shiny object on the floor. Picking it up, he realised it was the spare target. It was going to be handy...somehow. George quickly turned and headed down the steps. The first port of call was Bronson's plans. Whatever he was planning, George knew he needed to show the sisters just what Bronson intended to do with the house. He scanned the plans before shoving them in the pocket of his shorts. Next was the theodolite.

George grabbed hold of it, folded it up before shoving it down his shorts. After quickly adjusting himself, George hurried back up to the house.

Alessa Scott stared at the laptop screen over her friend's shoulder. It wasn't the game that had managed to make her eyebrow rise. Hell, Alessa was a sucker for point-and-click games. If a game made you think, she was all for it. But she couldn't be sure if she actually saw what she saw.

"Did I just see..."
"Did he just..."
"Oh yeah."

Alessa straightened up. "Well that is just illogical either way you look at it." she mumbled. Her friend, Alexandra Stokes, spun round on her own chair to face Alessa.
"Since when were you a trekkie?" she giggled. Aless frowned behind her green framed glasses.
"A tre-" Alessa sighed loudly. "Holmes say the same word too you know." she muttered. Alexandra smiled and nodded her head.
"Yeah I know! Always a Sherlockian first and foremost." The pair were silent as they watched the exchange on the screen.

"So what are you playing anyway?" Alessa asked breaking the silence.
"Broken Sword 2: The Smoking Mirror." Alexandra saved her progress. "George has the power over Hammer Space. Ya learn to just go with it after a while."
Alessa blinked. "Hammer Space?"
"Yeah, you know! Cartoon characters pull things like mallets and stuff out of thin air. Also called magic satchel but since George doesn't own a satchel or bag, we'll go with hammer-space." Alessa held up her hand. Alexandra stared at her friend.

"Are you telling me that this guy-"
"George Stobbart."
Alexandra huffed a little. "George Stobbart. With two T's and two B's."
Alessa muttered under her breath. "Whatever! Are you telling me that George Stobbart has hammer space in his shorts?" Alexandra stared at Alessa before a sly grin appeared on her face. "Don't!" Alessa warned.

"Since you put the question like that; it does sound kinda weird." Alexandra started to giggle as Alessa cursed and sat down. "Say, does Holmes do that same thing that game of yours?"
Alessa opened her book as her pet cat Watson settled down on her lap. "Yes but he has a bag."
"So he's got the power of magic satchel?" Alexandra asked.
"Well how else would he be able to construct a make-shift ladder in the confinds of his bag?" Alessa shot back. Alexandra nodded her head and turned back to her game.

"While George was basking in the sun drenched Caribbean. I went to London. It was a long shot, but I thought I'd start my search for the Jaguar stone at the British Museum..."