First shot at anything out of my comfort zone. But felt like a change.
Do not own the characters that Sir Conan Doyle has created. (Thank God he did, though!)
Story is set around the Movie-verse. Have a rough idea where its headed(Plot wise).
Should warn you it will be a SH/JW fic eventually,(but then you clicked on it so you knew that.)
Um... any feed back and reviews are most welcomed.
Right...Here we go and wish me luck.
Vixens Through the Veil.
Summary.
When Holmes helps save a young girl he has no idea how valuable she is. Who are the Vixens? Why are they after her? And can Holmes stop them before he's forced to admit something that could change a relationship very dear to his heart?
Chapter one.
The skies of London were thick with fog, which was unusual for the time of year, the vapours rose to the chimneys curling around the pots before dispersing into the the light of the moon barely reaching the ground many shadows hugged the walls of the many workhouses, stately homes and so forth.
All but one.
A shadow slipped between the tight alleyways among the buildings. It flickered this way and that, ducking deeper into the darkness when-ever a carridge passed or a crowd of drunks. It journeyed in an ever-shrinking pattern until it found the right house. Stopping at a grand looking structure with, at least, four floors the shadow's attention was drawn to the small round window at the very top in the attic. Thankfully, on this night and from very reliable sources, the house was deserted. Why it was deserted now was the main reason to act before things got out of hand.
Taking out a well used lock-picking device the figure knelt and got to work on the old lock on the front trying several keys the figure huffed with growing annoyance. Slipping the last one into the hole and with a frustrated grunt the lock clicked and the door swung neatly open leaving the figure kneeling on the top step shaking their head.
"Unbelievable." They muttered, tucking their tools inside their jacket. From another pocket they withdrew a small pistol and kept it close. On their feet they entered and edged gingerly along the hallway towards a door on the right that was slightly ajar. Peering through the gap they saw the room empty and pushed the door just wide enough so they could get through.
The room was hardly furnished,a couple of old wooden stools and a table set for two people were seated at one corner. The other corner, by the window, sat a settee that had seen better days. "Clearly no woman involved, then. Could be two men judging by the meek supper laid out. But why three glasses?" Moving closer to the table they picked up the smaller of the three glasses and sniffed the remains of the water at the bottom. They made a face and quickly replaced it ."Drugged. An lighter, improvised version of the compound found at the other crime scenes,so they know their stuff." A smirk. "Sort of." Scanning the small room their eyes were suddenly draw to the bare floorboards by the settee. Something shiny was sticking out from under it. Kneeling and reaching forwards they withdrew a short ribbon, they examined it between rough fingers. " well a hair ribbon. Not the kind of thing a grown..." Eyes widened as realisation dawned. "Oh, you idiot! Not grown...Small, small and young." Tucking the scrap of cloth in their trouser pocket they hurried out of the room, down the hallway and up the stairs to the second landing.
"OI!" A man shouted from a room on said landing and dashed out clad only in his night shirt. "You not allowed in 'ere!" He lumbered forward, his right foot dragging slightly, holding a thick walking stick and waving it threateningly.
They didn't waste a second. Ducking a clobber to the head they whipped the stick from the mans' hands and stuck him just below his right knee. The man howled and crumbled to the floor clutching his bad leg. "Where?" They demanded aiming the pistol between the mans' eyes. When he didn't answer right away they hit his leg again. "Where!"
"N-no." He whimpered." H-He'll kill m-me if I do."
"And I'll kill you if you don't. Now...Where!" The man gulped a few times and then pointed up the remaining stairs. " Oh, look at that. I was right. Much obliged,old boy. Now,this could hurt." Before the fallen man could protest they brought down the walking stick, the man slumped sideways his mouth open in a silent scream. Leaving the stick at his side the shadow traversed the rest of the steps and came to a halt outside an oak door. Scanning the frame they spotted something glittering in the faint moonlight. Reaching up on tip-toe they found a key hanging from a nail. Fumbling with the lock they managed to wretch the door open and staggered inside. Once their eyes had adjusted to the dim light they widened in slight horror. " My word!"
On the single bed at the far corner was his quarry. She had,indeed, been drugged and appeared to be sleeping peacefully. Carefully he edged forward, mindful of creaking floor boards, and leaned over her. He quickly checked that she was breathing, sighing in relief when placing two fingers on her neck and finding a weak gently pulled back the thin sheet covering her, finding her wearing a plain cotton camisole, that was clearly made for a woman as the straps hung loosely off her shoulders and the material bunched at her waist, and gazed at the rest of her for injuries.
What he found made him shudder.
Thick ropes secured her hands to the sides of the bed,forcing her arms out at nine and three o'clock, the rough twine cutting into her and leaving red marks on her light skin. A nasty purple bruise was starting to show on her cheek and she had a tiny cut on her forehead just above her right eye. An eye along with its twin that flickered open and fixed him with a terrified stare. He stared back and then slowly raised a finger to his lips, winked and leaned over her again reaching for ropes. Clearly the girl got the wrong idea, she murmured the same word over and over as he worked, thinking he was one of the men that had hurt her and struggled against him weakly when he helped her up onto a sitting position.
"Ssh, it OK. I won't hurt you."
She shook her head, "...No...I...I won't..." Her head lolled back, she went limp.
"Stay awake." He shook her, not rough but just enough so she wouldn't go back to sleep, fumbling to take off his jacket and handing it to her. "Come on. I'm here to take you home."
"Home?" She looked at him with glassy eyes while slipping her arms through the sleeves and buttoning it up. "You... help... me?" He nodded. "Na...Name?" She slurred.
A wolfish grin spread across his face, "Mister Sherlock Holmes. At your service, miss."
OK...I've got the ball rolling. How did I do?
Any mistakes...Sorry.
Next chapter is in the works.
Please R and R if you want.( Makes puppy-dog eyes.)
As I said at the beginning-ALL feedback welcome.
Mx.