London. Baker Street. 1895.
Sherlock eyed the brunette in front of him warily, feeling the uncomfortableness that he always did when he was in the presence of an emotional woman - not to mention, one who was crying. "Please stop with the theatrics, Janine. I told you that the concept of you and I as a couple would be a bad idea."
"And yet, you still decided to start courting me."
Sherlock looked at Janine and raised an eyebrow. "If you had been more perceptive, you would have known better than to become involved with me, Janine. Even if I hadn't dated you with the intent of getting into your boss' house and bringing him to justice, I did warn you. I'm not the kind of man who cares for sentiment. Romance is faulty and dangerous for someone like me. Besides, I'm married to my work."
"Really?" The brunette glared at him, tears running down her cheeks. "It certainly didn't feel like you weren't romantic when you were wooing me."
"I played a part, Janine. I said everything that you wanted me to say and did everything you wanted me to do. You should have been able to tell that there was something off in the way I went about "wooing" you."
Janine laughed mirthlessly. "I fell in love with you, Sherlock."
"Seeing me through rose colored glasses has only hurt yourself in the long run."
"You are a heartless, manipulative man. I can't believe that I wasted my feelings on you."
"I'm sure that you'll get over me in time, madam."
Janine covered her mouth with her hand and the only sound in the room were her muffled sobs.
It was incredibly awkward for Sherlock to stand there and watch his now ex fiancée weep in front of him. He did feel a slight twinge of shame for using her in such a tactless way, but Sir Charles Augustus Magnussen was a horrible man who used his knowledge to blackmail and slander many people in the world.
As callous as it was to admit, Sherlock would have betrothed himself to Janine all over again because it gave him a reason to frequent the man's home and eventually, break into his library to find the evidence needed to prove that Magnussen was, in fact, a criminal.
Sherlock Holmes did not lead a very conventional life and because of his cold, calculating persona, he was considered an oddball and an outcast in most social circles. It was not, in his eyes, a cross he had to bear because he honestly didn't care what people thought of him.
Well, he did care what his two closest friends, John and Mary Watson, thought about him. And he included Mrs. Hudson and even LeStrade to that small group, but besides them, there was no one else.
The consulting detective had been thinking about how to get Janine out of the room without making her any more upset than she already was, but she'd stopped crying and now stood at the door.
"I thought you were a good man, but I was wrong." Janine's eyes flashed a deep violet and suddenly, a strong wind whipped about the room. In an instant, her burgundy dress became a strange green corseted gown that clung to her like a second skin.
Sherlock widened his eyes in shock as his mind tried to comprehend what was happening. "Janine? How are you doing this? Is this some kind of trick?"
"Oh, no, Sherl. This is all me. You see, I'm an enchantress and my duty for as long as I exist on this earth is to test the hearts and minds of men. I'm afraid you have failed my test."
Was Janine trying to play off her hurt feelings by fantasy or was she genuine? Sherlock wanted to believe the former, but after seeing her...transform in front of him, he had a difficult time reconciling it. "Are you saying that our relationship was something you staged?"
"Yes. I've done this many times before, but my feelings for you were real. I thought that perhaps, with a good woman in your life, you would change. Unfortunately, that wasn't to be. Deep down inside, I suspected you to fail from the moment I first saw you. Sometimes, men do surprise me, although, you were doomed from the beginning. You possess a heart, Sherlock Holmes, but it is cold and fueled by logic. This will not do."
The tone of Janine's voice was troubling.
"Does that mean you plan to kill me?"
"Certainly not! Killing never does any good. How else can you learn from your mistakes? I am going to give you a chance to redeem yourself."
The purple light emanating from Janine's hand put Sherlock ill at ease. He knew he hadn't taken a seven percent solution of cocaine, so this must be real. "I suppose I am...grateful."
She smiled. "You won't think that when I'm finished with you."
Before Sherlock could ask what she meant by that, Janine held out her hand and the purple glow from her fingertips stretched out and hit him in the chest. It was painful and he cried out in horror as he felt his body shrink, bones crack and skin turn from smooth flesh to hairy fur.
Moments later, he was on all fours, staring up at Janine and she picked him up in her arms. Sherlock tried to speak, but only a meow came out. Despair ran through him and he felt a sense of true helplessness for the first time in his life.
"Welcome to your new life as a cat. When you finally warm that dark heart of yours and find love with someone who loves you back, the curse will be broken and you will be a man again. But for now...I don't think these apartments suit you." Janine carried the black cat in her arms down the stairs and outside into the London air.