Chapter 2
Sherlock did as she was told, for one of the few times in her life keeping in mind her brothers warning words to her. She was to keep calm at all times and cause no scenes. Sherlock knew that if she wanted to untangle the web that was Moriarty's world quickly she needed the intelligence that was offered by MI6. She could do it alone. But this time she favored the path of least resistance. She would keep her mouth shut and her thoughts to herself until she had all she needed.
Unfortunately, she had not foreseen the Vauxhall building being blown to hell and her 'boss' being killed in the blast. Being boosted from anonymity as a lab rat to suddenly being Q was not on the agenda.
Still, she would work with the hand she had been dealt for the moment. After all, disappearing was frightfully easy - so easy that even a double 0 could do it without being detected until he had decided to come home on his own. Of course, if she had been in charge of Q branch then she would have been able to find him… James Bond it seemed had the disturbing ability to survive the unsurvivable.
And now he had proved himself again by bringing home a terrorist when he hadn't even past the physical.
An interesting man this James Bond.
So she followed behind Bill, who had been sent by M. The man usually had a smile to spare but not today. She studied the expression on his face, the way he held himself. Something had happened. Something with Sylva.
Bill held up a tablet to her, the screen showing a paused video.
"You should watch this before you go in,"
She frowned slightly at this. She had things to be doing and this was not at the top of the list. Bloody secret service. She never did have the patience for all of the cloak and dagger nonsense.
She pressed play.
The screen showed her the containment room that several of her Workers - you hear that John! I have 'Workers' - had assisted to set up.
And in the cell was the man who had caused the destruction at Vauxhall.
Sylva looked directly at the camera that was situated in top corner of the cell.
"Clever girl, Miss Holmes," it was almost a croon.
Sherlock's fingers turned icy around the tablet.
How did he know?
"I want to speak with your Quartermaster. Think of it as my last request before life imprisonment," he was speaking to the camera the whole time and didn't look away until he had posed his request and only then did he look to one of the few people who were in the room.
Sherlock recognized the imposing broad shoulders and blond head of James Bond and the shorter frame of M.
"Not going to happen," M clipped out, her back straight, her voice cold.
Sylva let out a theatrical sigh, rolling his head from side to side.
"Yes, yes I know. Terrorist. Ya de ya,"
"Exactly," M nodded her head once.
"Come on mommy. Just this once,"
Sylva leaned towards the glass and she noticed the way that the double 0 and guard tensed slightly.
"It will be worth her while," the prisoner whispered.
She entered the containment room, a cell like a glass tube was in the middle of the room, white light spilled from it. And inside it was the man that 007 had brought home.
There was something eerily familiar in the maniacal grin he gave her.
M turned as she came up beside her and nodded in greeting while Bond simply looked at her as though she was a truant child.
Before anyone could tell her just why she was here - after all, what did they expect her to do? Torture the man? While tempting she was hardly adept at such things - a chuckle, child like and gleeful came from the prisoner.
Sherlock focused on him.
She had read up on the files about him - had even hacked into some she shouldn't have - and she knew what a faulty suicide pill had done to him. She wondered if he was still medicated for the damage it had done to his throat and stomach. And his face. Studying him now there was hardly any telltale sign of the damage he lived with. Nothing but the slightly unnatural set of his jaw…
He was in orange - so cliched - with his arms secured with a flat jacket.
M was taking no chances with this man.
"Clever girl," the man leaned forward, his eyes glittering, "Miss Holmes," he stage whispered to the glass.
Sherlock tensed.
How did he know?
Sherlock stood opposite Sylva, concentrating on holding her head high and back straight.
Sylva looked at her, his eyes racking her frame up and down.
"So," he began, standing from his bench, "You are the little girl who toppled an empire,"
It wasn't a question.
Sherlock simply held out her arms and dipped her head in acknowledgment of the comment.
"I constantly tell people that I am dangerous when bored," she shrugged, bringing her arms back to her side and folding them over her chest, "What can I say…?"
Sylva laughed at this, seeming to be genuinely amused at her words.
"I must congratulate you Miss Holmes. You really did a number on old Jimmy,"
"And I must thank you for being caught, Mr Sylva,"
Silence fell between them at this. Sherlock was itching to leave the room and get back to her work but she forced herself to remain still, her eyes never leaving those of the maniac in the cell.
"Ah, I see," Sylva whispered, nodding his head in sudden understanding, "You are preparing for a crusade, Miss Holmes,"
Sherlock couldn't stop the quirk of her brow at this. He was good.
"Would you care for some tips?"
This was not what she had expected.
"Why?" she asked, taking a step closer to the cell, her feet moving almost without her consent.
John always did say she had no survival instincts when there was a mystery to be solved.
"Good citizen," the man answered, smiling as though this was a perfectly normal conversation.
Sherlock simply scoffed at this.
"Oh alright then," Sylva chuckled, almost skipping the few steps towards the glass, "Lets just say I like you,"
Sherlock left the cell room and returned to Q branch.
She had a job to do. She had equipment to hack into and plans to try and unwind that concerned Sylva and his own crusade of the moment. But afterwords…afterwords she would be seeing if a word he had spoken had been true.
She forced herself to take a deep steadying breath before entering the brightly lit complex that was Q branch.
All in its own time.
Hi everyone :)
In my head it would totally make sense that the Sylva of Bond and the Moriarty would be acquainted. A sort of 'trading insults while sipping possibly
poisoned brandy across a table from each other' sort of relationship. ;)
Hope you enjoyed and are having a safe weekend.
x
