Te Amo

By Wolfa Moon

Sum: Event After 'The Great Game." Gender Bend. Always a Female! Watson.

Dis: Own Nothing. Irony, Sweet and Bliss. Unfolding around. Damn Universe.

REVIEWS are LOVE. PLEASE REVIEW. PLEASE.

AN: I pictured Jane Watson as played by: Carla Gugino.

TA

Frozen in the chill of night we made our escape. Holding her frame close to mine. Observant as I always am. I search the dark for foes. Searching for what is out there. In the dark. Monsters in the night. A Shivering sensation I look to my weighted side notifies me that I am not alone. Even though my arm is around her I had forgotten. How could I after all she has done for me?

"Come along Jane let's get out of this weather." Nodding her head in response she looks around.

"We can't go home." She states. Her eyes looking while her teeth chatter.

"Did he rig something?" pondering what Moriarty could also have laid upon us.

"Not to my knowledge. But if I were him I would. Just in case." I hadn't thought that far. Thinking the end game would have mattered only here. But it didn't. Stopping I search around. Damn phone waterlogged and chlorine filled from the pool. Sighing into the night I realize I only have one option.

Making our way toward a telephone booth we huddle inside. There I call my archenemy.

"Mycroft, it's Sherlock I need you to pick us up." There is no response on the other end. Knowing with his eyes and ears everywhere he would get to us. Also with me collecting the call to him. I need not say more. Eyes still open I look around. Then I feel the only warmth slide away from me. The weight sliding away without me with me. Eyes looking to the pull of weight. Jane has gone limp. The cold and adrenaline fading from her system. Especially after having a bomb attached to her, kidnapping, then the pool while debris fell around us. Yes we both deserve to rest. A black car comes around the corner. Mycroft had arrived. Slipping with the weight I pulled her close. "Almost home."

TA1

My mind retraced what Moriarty had done. He had captured my one and only friend. My only true weakness. He had strapped a bomb to Jane Watson. Watching stunned to silence as she moved out. Speaking words not her own. Exposing the bomb attached to her limber frame.

Then him making her say a phrase three time.

"Te amo, Te amo, te amo." She spoke his words repeated three times.

"Stop it." She stopped still. Looking into my eyes. So much held in them. Her faith in me. Then using it. Saving her for a mere moment. So much trust. And with a simple nod I took it. The world exploded.

TA2

I woke up warm and snug. Breathing in the air I noted hints of breakfast being cooked. Specifically bacon. Removing myself from the bed I take in my surrounding. I am in my guest room at Mycroft's village estates. Taking us out of London to keep us safe. A little overkill. But that is my brother. Shuffling around to the bureau I get some cloths out. Then I feel the tug of my subconscious. I had missed something. Something important. Dressing I felt the tug. My mind running through the inventory. Going over the night in my head. My fading dream. Yet is seemed slow. Why? Bullock. My stomach rumbled. Giving up on inventory, cataloging. I moved toward the smells.

Mycroft greeted me as I entered the kitchen. Him taking his repast at the kitchen dinette.

"Morning," he acknowledges me. Then nodding toward the cook. My eyes follow.

Then is clicked. There is Jane in one of our mother's dresses. She stood in front of the range flipping pancakes. How could I have forgotten? I am such a foul. She turned to me and smiles. A bruise on her face. Then I realized what I had missed on myself. The wrapped ribs. And the wrappings around my wrist. How could I have missed such details? Well I just was blown up. I can give myself a break. Focusing on her I see she has bandages on herself as well. Yet she is cooking breakfast. Must be a coping mechanism. She smiles at me.

"About time you got up." She places a plate on the table. "I expect you to eat that up." I watch her as I take my seat. Mycroft grunts.

"They are particularly good." He smiles, flipping a page of his newspaper. "Since the villa isn't staffed till spring. I found myself not needing them." He smiled to Jane raising his cup. She smiled returning to her work. Why did I keep blocking her out? Maybe if I did continue I wouldn't hurt. Why would I hurt? Hurt her for getting her into this. For... I move without thought. Again I had been through an ordeal. Moving toward her I hug her. She stiffened then relaxes. A fading clank of cutlery from behind me. A shock to Mycroft as well. The a voice by my ear. Soft and concerned.

"You alright Sherlock?" So Doctor Jane Watson. I nod. Pulling back quickly. She eyes me. Trying to see if I had cracked. To most I have. She shacks her head. Motioning me silently to the table with a tilt of the head and a smile. So silent to maintain my front. Have a heart. She resumes to fixing breakfast. Sitting down I see my brother smiling.

"Shut up," I snark as I cut my pancake. Taking a bite my mouth fills with a wonderful texture. Pumpkin. She had remembered. Mycroft can only smile at the realization that my flat mate, friend had made my favorite kind of pancakes. Looking quickly to her I notice her movements. They are stiff. She is holding herself in a way that says injury and guarded. Turning my head from her I return to my food. I had promised her that I wouldn't deduce her. Mycroft nodded. He had seen too. Of course he did.

"Reports came in about the bombing." The clattering of a spatula hitting the floor resonates after his words. He could never be settle. Swallowing my breakfast I glare at him. She has been hurt enough. Stop. But he won't. Always trying to prove a point. And this point I knew. Didn't need reminding. Yet he deemed a lesson for me to finally learn. And apparently. Yes I do. Needed to remember Jane is a part of this. A person who feels. Who cares? Who is my friend? My only friend.

"And?"

"There were several bodies. None of them identified as James Moriarty." He flipped a page of his newspaper. "Lestrade is keeping you posted. Which reminds me," he rummaged through one of his pockets. Laying a newer version of my iphone on the table. "I took the liberty of transferring your information into this one."

"Also program to read my daily searches." Mycroft only smiled. He had. I'll get a new iphone later. This would suffice. Another 2 lay on the table next to his mug. Gathering one is his and the brand new one, Jane's replacement. Another gift. How nice of him.

Why is my brother infatuated with Jane? Maybe because I have her and he doesn't. "She did a remarkable job patching you up. Even if you were the less hurt. How is the leg my dear?" Leg? Turning my bruised body. Silently, I watch as she balances her plate and hobbles over.

"Not too bad. Clean through and true."

"You were shot." I state. My eyes traveling to the skirt covered leg. The bandage swishing against the skirt fabric. Visible now that it covered from her thigh to just below her left knee.

"We did have snipers on us." She reminds him. Like I needed it. Yet apparently I needed a lot of reminding as of recent. "They did intend to kill us." She sat and dived into her food. Pushing some bacon onto my plate. Making a meal she knew I wouldn't refuse to eat. Cleaver doctor.

TA 3

I had found one of my old packs of cigarettes. Sitting on the back patio overlooking the garden. Unlighted cigarette held in hand. Contemplating all that had passed. The weather is a bit chillier here. But quiet. Too quiet.

The back door opens and a person hobbles their way to me. Looking over I watch as Jane gingerly sits down. With the helpful balance of a hand on my shoulder. I don't brush off the contact. I accept. She sighs at the relief off her leg. Her wardrobe had gathered one of their mother's jackets as well. She catches me staring. Tugging the jacket tighter. As if to conceal her hurt and herself from view. And most important to keep her warm.

"Mycroft said I could borrow it."

"Keep it. It looks more fetching on you than her." She smiles and buriers herself into the fur collared leather jacket. Watching her. Constantly watching her. Her eyes close as the fur brushes her check. Her eyes open and look over at me.

"Sorry," she says. Sitting up straighter. "Reminds me of a jacket my mother owned." She takes a deep breath. fascinated at the only object to take in. I deduce her. Breaking a rule. Yet she doesn't have to know my thoughts. The jacket reminds her of her mother. Said with sorrow. So she must be past. And her eyes watch over the meadow behind the villa. Eyes searching for hidden enemies. Then the crinkle around the eyes shouting in pain. But no vocal. Ignoring it. The cigarette is snatches from my hand. She places it between her lips. Grabbing my jacket she reaches inside for the matches I have placed there only this morning. How does she know?

Smirking. She must have seen me snatch them from atop the fireplace. And no nicotine patches around. Old habits. How the sinner. Keeping it hidden. She strikes the match and lights the cigarette. Entranced I watch as she takes a deep inhale off the nicotine stick. Then handing it over to me.

"You don't smoke."

"Not anymore." She blows out the smoke. She smirks. How could I have missed that? Taking the cigarettes I take an inhale. Bliss. She takes it back inhaling again. She's smiling. "I feel like a teenager sneaking a smoke behind the shed." She holds the cigarette over. Instead of taking it with my fingers I lean over to take with my lips. Taking another blissful inhalation. Puffing around it. She leans closer to me. Her weight upon my side.

For a moment I let the world go. Only us. Alone on the patio watching the meadow sway in the silent chilled breeze. Smoking a hidden sin. Sharing it. Letting my mind go. When had I allowed her to take residence in my mind? A permanent fixture. Leaning back into her. I pull the cigarette away from my lips and hold for her. She takes it the same way I did. Teenagers sharing a smoke behind the shed. Wonder what else happened behind that shed.

The patio door opens quickly. Jane quickly inhales another deep breath. Burying her face down to hide the sin. I take it and smoke openly. For there is only one other person here.

"I do wish you would quit that atrocious habit." He comes over to stand over us. Mostly on Jane's side. "You should know better. Jane back me up here." She coughs. Looking up she releases her inhaled bliss. Mycroft snorts at the smell. I can only smile wider at the disgust look on Mycroft's face. But gone in a flash. He can get angry with me but not her. Curious. I hand her back the cigarette. She takes. But just holds it.

They are killers. Yet they had cheated death on several occurrences. And this would probably kill them. What a laugh. She brings it to her lips and takes another drag. Mycroft scoffs but sits down beside her. She scouts closer to me. In a gesture to make more room. Or to get space away from Mycroft. Maybe she senses my brother's advancements. And doesn't want them. Good. Handing the cigarette back I take it the same way as before. We both snicker. Our parents had caught us behind the shed.

"What?" I say around the cigarette. "We have been through an ordeal. I am allowed a small vice."

"Yes but I can't believe she is condoning this."

"Not condoning anything. Just needing a release. And this is better than shooting a wall." I scoff at her words. Holding it out for her to take a drag. She shakes her head. True we had our fun. Taking one final dreg I drop it and stomp out the embers

Watching them die away. Mycroft smiles in victory. Also nods to Jane for conceding to him. She didn't surrender she is just getting tired. Her face in buried in the fur lining of the jacket. Wondering if she had ever indulged in a fur jacket. Probably not. Having to pay fro her medical degree through military service. Mycroft watches her as she contents herself with the simplicity of fur collared. Wonder what she would do with a fur lined. Her body leans into mine more, drastically. She doesn't correct herself. The weight is a dead weight.

"Oh dear," Mycroft is moving and making a grab for her. My shock must show as I twist my bruised ribs to help. Mycroft gathers her in his arms.

"What is going on?"

"She has been active too much. She warned me of this." I watch as Mycroft lifts her up with a grunt. Making his way toward the parlor. Resting her down on the sofa. Pushing Mycroft aside I sit beside her. Opening the fur to take in her face. The bruise. The slack features. The dark circles. She looks exhausted. Beaten.

"How serious?"

"Blood loss, bruised ribs. Her injured shoulder taking an impact. Taking care of you." Mycroft lays a comforter over her. "Need I go on."

"No," looking at the hurt I had caused my friend.

"You don't deserve her." Glaring up at Mycroft I see him take a protective stance.

"I know. But she remains." Remains mine.

"We shall see." Mycroft leaves the room to work over what is storming inside of me. What is it Moriarty made her say?

"Te amo." I say aloud.

I love you.

TA 4

Silence reigned through the house. Night had fallen a short time ago. But I had no desire to move. Normally my brain would be ticking off details. Begging to be entertained. Not now. It was content to just allow us to sit and watch our friend sleep. Our friend? My friend. Butt numbing I shift.

"Sherlock?" I hear her voice ask in the dim room.

"Yes Jane I'm here."

"Good." She falls back into slumber. Delving into another unknown vice. I run a hand through her hair.

AN: I want to write more. But I have so many stories on the burner. Not sure if I will continue. Reviews help.

Picture in my mind to see Jane Watson.

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