A/N – this is my first Sherlock piece. Sorry if it's a bit dodgy, I did spend a lot of time on it, so I hope it isn't.

Warnings – rated T for swearing and violence, also written by someone who doesn't live in London, or anywhere near there, read at your own risk

Dedication – this story is dedicated to the wonderful Strazza, for giving me this plot, betaing and just being amazing, thanks.

A Game Of Chess.

A multi-chapter by we are the hurricane

"It's not chance Mr Holmes, its chess. It's a game of Chess, with one move. And one survivor. And this, this, is the move."

A pile of papers stacked up high on the desk Summer sat at. She rubbed her head and ignored the screaming behind her. She sighed and started writing again, constantly checking the computer where she had stored her notes. She used her white-out over and over, as she kept making mistakes. She then lost it. "Amanda!" she squealed, looking towards the door. "Just shut up!" A flurry of swear words and obscenities fled into the room and Summer sighed once more. She got back to her criminology studies.

She was currently studying social structure theories. She sighed, as she worked through the theories, skipping the parts in her notes where it told her about the people who established the theories and when they were established. Highlighting the notes she didn't need on her file in Open Office, she then deleted it and then started writing her essay with the notes she actually needed. There, she thought, that's better. She always knew the sixth and final semester of her degree would be hard, but, she knew that if she wanted her dream career, then this was the way to do it.

"Summer!" says a voice behind her and Summer turns her swivel chair to face one of her flatmates, Andy. "Let's go to the fruit shop."

"I'm. Studying," Summer growls, and turns back to face her work. She ignores the groan Andy gives and she breathes heavily, her shoulders going up and down.

"But Harry won't go as he's watching Ben 10 happily, and Amanda is being..." Andy trails off, and then starts laughing softly. "Please come. I really need your help." Summer sighs, shuts her computer and looks to Andy.

"Sure, I'll come. Just let me get dressed. I can't go out like this," Summer points towards her clothing. She's wearing a grey jacket and tracksuit pants with slippers, and her hair all over the place so it looks like she's got David Tennant hair. She cracks a smile. "Give me ten."

"Ten minutes," Andy says, rolling his eyes. "Then we're leaving." He smiles and closes Summer's bedroom door, giving her privacy. Summer walks over to her built-in wardrobe, and gets a white t-shirt with a grey guitar on it out, and picks up some jeans and her worn out leather jacket. She tries on the trio and feels happy. Smiling at herself in her flimsy mirror, she puts on her leather, high-top Converse shoes, and walks to the bathroom to quickly put something in her hair to make it look a little more humane. She walked out of the bathroom to find a stopwatch thrust into her face. "Seven minutes and forty-three seconds. Your new record," says Andy, scratching his head and smiling. "Shall we?" Summer takes his arm.

"Yes, we shall," says Summer, and they walk to the front door, collecting wallets, keys and grocery bags as they go. Summer opens the door and runs down the stairs to the bottom of the apartment block, which is only three floors high, but at the same time, pretty wide. She walks to her car, while Andy follows her at a slower pace. Getting into her vintage Ford Falcon XP from 1966, she puts the keys into the ignition and waits for Andy to get in. He opens the door and stuffs his obese frame into the car, and looks to Summer.

"I could have driven, you know," he says, smiling, changing the radio station to find a good one.

"Or we could get there quickly, Andy." Summer lectures and pulls out of her parking spot. The traffic is a nightmare as she drives along George Street, the car stopping and starting constantly.

They sit in silence in the traffic when suddenly everything changed. Daleks began pouring from the sky and everyone begins screaming in terror. Horns are blasting and cars are swerving everywhere, as the daleks blasted the ground. Summer looked around frantically and accidentally drove her car straight into one of them that somehow found a gap in the traffic. It spun around and…

Summer wakes up with a gasp, sitting up and breathing heavily. Oh good it was just a dream… That's it. No more watching 'Doctor Who' before going to bed. Even if she's an adult now… Strange that she'd dream about her years in Uni though. With a sigh she kicked off her covers and stood up. She looked around her new room. She'd only moved in yesterday, and it was all still new and strange to her. The paint is fading, giving the room a homely look. Next to Summer's queen sized bed is a small bedroom table with a lamp and a iPod dock, showing the time. Her unused glasses are there as well, which reminds her to go out today and actually buy some she likes. An electric piano is in one corner of the room, facing the built in wardrobe, which has been painted black recently. A mirror lines one sliding door of her wardrobe. Shelves line the walls wherever there's space and Summer almost knocks her head on one getting up. She walks over to the wardrobe, ignoring her reflection in the full mirror and taking out some clothes for the day. Taking off a hanger with her pants from the hanger tree above her head, she carefully unfolds black jeans from her hanger. She then puts it back, and then takes a white shirt with fake rips and tears from the wardrobe and a green jacket, to have a change. She leaves the wardrobe open as she shrugs off her pyjamas, flower patterned, relatively warm.

Getting dressed in her clothes, accompanied with a sports bra, underwear and her Converse high top leather boots, she looks at herself in the mirror. A blue eyed rockstar looks back at her. Or, at least, what she wishes she was to be looks back at her. Oh, to be a famous musician… She sighs, closes the wardrobe door, stuffs her pyjamas under her pillow, and walks out of the room.

The lounge room is cleaner than her bedroom at least. The black lounge in the corner, the TV on its table and millions of DVDs stacked underneath it, not to mention the PS3. Summer sits down on her lounge, and picks up the remote. Turning on the TV, she sees she doesn't have many options on what to watch. Sighing, she turns the TV off again and goes to the kitchen.

The fridge is hardly stocked, and she leans her head on the door. There is only a milk carton and some bits of last night's takeaway, not enough to eat though. She closes the door and retrieves a cup from the bench of her kitchen and fills it up with water from the tap. Sculling the water down, she then gets her handbag, stashes her phone and her keys inside, and leaves the apartment. Locking the door to 221d Baker Street behind her.

Humming 'To The Moon And Back' by Savage Garden under her breath, she passes her new land lady -Mrs Hudson- she remembers, in the hall. "Hello, dear," she says, and Summer waves. "What are you going to do today?"

"Get breakfast, go shopping," Summer replies, smiling. "About time I got out of the flat." She remembers to use the English term for apartment in front of Mrs Hudson. She may have grown up in England, but none of that has rubbed off on her.

"Okay, darling," says Mrs Hudson, embracing the new tenant. Summer smiles. Even though she's only known Mrs Hudson for little under two weeks, she's like the grandmother Summer never had.

"Know any good restaurants?" Summer asks, swinging around from the hug to look at Mrs Hudson. "I'm going to indulge."

"The cafe downstairs is nice," says Mrs Hudson, smiling. "You go have fun, my dear." She pats Summer's hand affectionately, and walks away to her flat. Summer smiles. Yes, she is going to fit in here.

Running down the stairs, she passes another flat. She stops to listen for a second, she was curious to who lived next door, Mrs Hudson had mentioned two men, but that was all. She heard nothing. She shrugs and keeps on going down the stairs and leaves the flat, silently resolving to find out about her mysterious neighbours later. Entering the cafe, she sits down at a booth, and takes a menu. There are many sandwiches and wraps to buy, and she explores the menu, looking for something nice. A waitress comes over and takes out her notebook. "Hello, would you like to order something?" she asks, smiling pleasantly. Summer smiles back.

"Can I have... a chocolate milkshake and a chicken schnitzel sandwich?" She puts the menu back and smiles pleasantly.

The waitress nods, "It'll be done soon." She replied before walking away.

Looking at her oversized handbag, it occurs to her that she might have to run to the ATM and get money out. She forges around in her handbag to find her wallet, and retracts a red wallet. She checks how much cash she has. Twenty pounds. Well, that'll have to do. She checks the menu. The meal costs roughly seventeen dollars, so she's good. She sighs. Close save.

The waitress comes over five minutes later with the meal. "Enjoy!" she says cheerfully, and walks away. Upon looking at the meal, Summer realises it is way too big. She takes a sip of the milkshake and starts eating. She doesn't even get to halfway through the sandwich before she is full, so she calls over the waitress for a doggy bag. She looks confused, and Summer instantly realises 'doggy bag' is an Australian term.

"Oh, sorry," says Summer, laughing. "I mean a container to put my food in. I can't finish it, but it is delicious, so I want to eat it later." The waitress nods her head, and runs to the kitchen. When Summer finishes her drink, the waitress comes back with a container, and Summer stuffs her food in there. She asks for the bill and a bottle of Coke Vanilla for the day. Altogether, the meal costs nineteen pounds. She pays and takes the Coke and the sandwich and puts it in her bag. Checking the time on her phone, it is twenty-three past nine. She leaves the cafe and shouts for a taxi. Immediately one comes on the side of the road, and she gets in. She'd noticed that there seemed to be several more taxis on Baker St, then anywhere else in the city "The nearest shops, please," she asks, and the taxi starts moving. She gets her credit card out, and swipes it on the machine the taxi driver gives her at the lights, and enters in her pin number.

The taxi arrives at its destination and Summer gets out. The taxi driver has taken her to a shopping mall, and she walks in. It is fairly small, and she walks straight to the clothing store. Instantly bored with the clothing, she realises it was a mistake to come here. Sighing, she quickly leaves the mall.

After walking around London for a while, she spots a museum. What the hell, she thinks, and enters. She recognises the hall to be from Doctor Who, and she chuckles. "Wow," she mutters under her breath. She smiles and runs up the stairs.

Running into a room, she falls silent when she sees that a museum worker is presenting something. She walks around the room to get a better view. Chinese music is played – delicate; serene – makes the scene more peaceful. A Chinese woman pours green tea from a Chinese tea set. Summer looks around the room. A sign says in ancient Chinese writing says Chinese Antiquities Room, with the English translation below it. She takes time to read the Chinese version, having learnt from one of her friends some Chinese writing. Glass cabinets around the room are bursting with Oriental artefacts, the sun streams through the windows.

"The great artisans say – the more the tea pot is used, the more beautiful it becomes," says the Chinese museum worker, speaking in her accent. She pours the tea. "The pot is seasoned by repeatedly pouring tea over the surface." She wipes the surface of the clap pot. It gleams. "The deposit left on the clay creates this beautiful patina, over time. Some pots – the clay has been burnished by tea made over four hundred years ago." Summer observes a party of school children watching her. The woman offers a cup of tea to one of the boys. He takes it nervously and sips, looking at her the whole time. "You drink from the pot that served Tan Lun himself. Great General of the Ming Dynasty." Summer raises her eyebrows, and takes out her Coke Vanilla and sips it.

She goes through the rest of the day, unknowing that, really, she was going to be involved in a lot of events the next day.

A/N – Please review and tell me what you think. And don't favourite/alert without reviewing, please.