A petité woman could be seen walking the streets of London. Head held down. Ruby scarf a form of protection from the cold. A long black trenchcoat billowing behind her. Click-clacks of heels were the only sound heard in the empty alleyway.

    Soon, the platinum-blonde haired woman reached a house. Opening the gate, she hastened along the pathway leading to the house, leaving the gate to close shut with a quiet clang. Upon reaching the door, the woman knocked; a precise rat-tat-tat.

    Almost immediately, the door opened, revealing a seemingly brusque man. He let the woman inside. Once in, she discarded her scarf and coat, hanging them on an antique coat rack.

    "I have organized the files and kept the few you requested on your desk in the study. Do read them once you have had your dinner."

    "Thank you Alistair. I shall take a shower foremost before I do anything else. Do keep the first-aid box in my study. I will be needing some ointment and bandages. Running heels is not optimal. "

    The man, Alistair nodded yes and went about his way.

    The woman smiled and went to her room. Standing in front of an antique vanity, a family heirloom of sorts, she skillfully removed her wig, causing curly jet-black locks to tumble behind her. Sitting on the chair in front of the vanity, she brushed through the wig's hair, not a strand out of place.

    Satisfied with her work, she left the vanity to take a well-deserved shower. All the perspiration from running earlier had stuck to her body, making it feel extremely uncomfortable. Once she had finished, she say at the antique vanity, this time brushing through her long black waves and curls.

    After double-checking that there was a none to minimum amount of tangled nests in her hair, she swaggered to a door, leading to another room. Her study.