He'd shown up earlier than he said he would, though that wasn't unexpected. Jim just wished the Virgin had given him more time to play with the Pet. No matter. Soon, they would both dance to his tune, and only his tune. Breaking the Virgin would be easy. Too easy almost. Of course, he would want to be broken by the time Jim was finished with him.
Breaking the Pet would be harder.
Jim knew the Pet had been a solider and a doctor, that he had a psychosomatic limp related to his service and injury in Afghanistan That the Pet carried his cane out of habit, not out of need, and thought of himself as the Virgin's friend. He had seen several women since his return from the army, but none of the relationships had been lasting. And most importantly, the Pet hated the fact that since he had moved in with the Virgin, he had found that people believed him and the Virgin were in a homosexual relationship with one another. He was constantly troubled by the possibility that the Virgin and the Virgin's friends were right.
Perhaps, Jim thought with a smile, that was how to break the Pet.
Because he wanted the Pet broken. He wanted the Pet to be broken into tiny little pieces. He wanted to put those pieces back together himself. He wanted the Pet to be his Pet. Jim wanted the Pet to follow him around the city, to tell him how brillant he was. Maybe if the Pet was really good and really, really broken, Jim would let him see the Virgin. Not long enough to make the Pet forget who he belonged to. Just a little treat. A reminder of the power that Jim had, would have, over the Pet.
Right now, the Pet was unconscious sitting in one of the pool change rooms. The drug would be working it's way quickly out of his system. The Virgin was coming, racing through London's pulsing heart in one of those blasted cabs. He didn't know Jim had the Pet. Oh no, that little bit would be a surprise. Jim couldn't wait to see the Virgin's face.
A soft moan came from behind the curtain where the Pet was. Jim's smile grew as the moan became louder, more audible. The Pet was awake! Time to dance!
x~x~x
John was aware he was making a god awful racket as he blinked away the darkness. His leg and shoulder hurt more than they had since that day in the desert. He wasn't, he found to his utter astonishment given his last memory and how he was waking up, tied up. In fact, he wasn't tied up, handcuffed, chained or otherwise restricted.
"Wakey wakey! Time to rise and shine! And it's looking to be a beautiful day!" The sing-song voice was coming from close to his ear, too close in fact, as John could feel a wall pressing against his back. There wasn't anyone near him, on that side at least, and yet the voice was right in his ear. "Aren't you excited, Johnny?"
John closed his eyes, held his body in place, and let out the contents of his lungs. He opened his eyes. He's in what appears to a change room stall. The semi-sweet chemical smell of chlorine permeates the air. A pool then.
"Are you scared Johnny?" The same ugly and smooth voice said. "Scared that Sherlock's not going to come? Remember when you went away for a whole two weeks and he didn't even notice? Maybe that will happen again."
John reached up to his ear. Twisted cable rand down to a small box on his shoulder. He followed it back up to his ear lobe. An earpiece was stuck into his left ear, just like the one he'd worn during his army days.
"What are you thinking, dear little Johnny? Johnny with his jumpers. Johnny in the jumpers is going to dance for me, isn't he?"
"And why would I do that?" John has to fight to keep his voice level, but it does stay even and calm.
"Because, dear little Johnny, I have you."
And the way his voice had dropped down, just a tiny little bit in pitch, meant that it was no longer so smooth or silky, and it scared John far more than the bombs or the snipers had. "And what are you going to do to me?"
"Oh don't worry Johnny. Nothing too big." That sing-song quality to the voice was back. "Just little things. Fingers first maybe. Toes of course. Those come off so easily."
John heard the gasp go through his own lips. He tried to bite it back, but it was already out. Of course there'd be torture. He know how to fight it off, how to separate his mind from his body and pain. At least in principle. He wasn't sure if he could actually succeed at it.
"Oh, did I say something bad, Johnny? Offend you maybe?" John fought the urge to scream, to yell for the man to shut up, to just shut the bloody hell up! "You're angry Johnny. Angry and scared and worried." There was a crackle of laughter over the radio. "Fun's almost over Johnny. But before we go to work, look down."
John did.
He hadn't even noticed the extra weight of the vest before. Or the bombs attached to it. The dawning realization that he'd been turned into a living, human bomb hurt though. Why now? Who now, of all the bloody times! He'd made it through his tours of duty in some of the roughest parts of the war without major injury. Even the gunshot to the left shoulder hadn't been so major as to invalid him out on it's own. He was supposed to be safe now. Bloody England was supposed to be a safe place and here he was! Kidnapped twice in the short while he'd been living in the capital. Kidnapped twice, shot at, tied to a bloody bomb and for what? All for a bloody joke it seemed!
"I like the look of explosives on you Johnny. Very military, but with that extra something."
John was sweating. So this is what the game would be. He'd do as the man said, or he'd be blown up. Some mad man would press the trigger and do what all the IEDs and Taliban in Afghanistan couldn't do. Blow him to bits. Send him sky high. Put down John Watson once and for all.
"Oh, it's such fun to watch you think! Does Sherlock watch you? He should!" John could almost picture a little kid jumping on his bed in excitement over a new toy. "He should watch his little toy think when the danger's really there!"
"What the hell do you want from me?" John spat the words out.
"We're going to have such fun together! It's just like a game of Doctor Says. Only I get to tell the doctor what to do!" The man was giggling. Positively giggling. "You ready to play?"
"No."
"Don't be like that Johnny. Just so you know, there's enough explosives strapped to you right now to blow up four London blocks. All boom!"
John didn't even know if he was still in London anymore. He could be anywhere that had a swimming pool. He could have been taken out to one of those country club pools, where there would be no one else around for miles.
Or he could still be in the very center of London.
John let out a long, slow, calming breath. "What do you want?" The words come out separated He hadn't meant for that to happen. It betrayed his fear more than he wanted.
"Oh come one Johnny. Surely you know how this game works. I say stuff, and you repeat it."
"You're the one whose been taking all those people. For the games with Sherlock."
"Yes!" Another giggle from the mysterious man on the other end of the radio connection. "And now, we begin." John could hear the man clearing his throat. "Repeat after me, and don't mess this up Johnny."
x~x~x
Well, there's the first little bit guys. Don't worry, this is just a little preamble to the pool scene at the end of "The Great Game", not where the story's actually going. Just came to me as a good introduction to what Jim does with the pair from 221B later on. More to come, already have the next chapter written up.
Please review! I love hearing from readers, even if it's to tell me that they hated it. While I might not enjoy that, it's still nice to know that someone read the story.
