Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is Sherlock Holmes, you know the drill.
Chapter 2
Violence Probably Wasn't the Answer
The sound of something crashing in to the floor, stirred her from her deep sleep. It was then silent again and she rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. She was having a pleasant dream about the time she learned how to ride a horse, back on her Father's ranch in Texas. She could almost smell the hay and sweet apples she fed her horse as she nuzzled her face into the pillow. She could feel the haze of the dream start to come back.
Then another loud crash forced her out of that haze.
It's probably that damn cat again, she thought as she rolled in the bed again. Her cat Twinkie liked to knock things over when she wouldn't wake up and let him out. She remembered putting away all her fragile things before she went to bed so Twinkie couldn't knock them over. Satisfied that her cat wasn't breaking anything valuable, she felt herself fall back into the dream.
However, there was another crash, and that time it sounded valuable.
"Goddamn it, Twinkie! I'm going to gut you like a fish if you broke any of my china!" Yvette yelled, vaulting up in the bed.
Suddenly, Yvette realized that she wasn't in her room. She felt a wave of dread rush over her as she looked around the unfamiliar room. The room was noticeably tidy, and her room was never clean. It looked like she was in an attic, since the ceiling and walls were not plastered and there was a slight musty smell in the air. She could see one window in the whole room and it was covered with deep red curtains that had flowery patterns on it. She saw a cherry oak armoire across from the bed she sat in. There were a few bookshelves on the right wall and a desk on the opposite wall all matching in cherry oak.
She looked down at the bed to see that it was a rather large bed, larger than the one in her home. The sheets and blankets were tangled around her body from her moving around too much in her sleep. The headboard was also cherry oak and was carved very delicately. Yvette saw two nightstands on either side of the bed that had oil lamps sitting on them.
That was when she saw a large chair pulled up next to her bed. It had the same flowery patterns as the curtains. It looked like someone was watching her as she slept, which made her rather nervous. She looked down at the wooden floor to see that there was a large porcelain bowl filled with warm water and a rag. Whoever it was, they were taking care of her.
Then it all came back to her.
After pushing Gunner out of the white light of the machine, she was caught up into what she concluded to be a wormhole. This wormhole dropped her into 1892 London. Yvette remembered being dropped into the Thames River, almost drowning in the confusion. If it were not for a fisherman who noticed her thrashing in the water, she would have drowned. He was the one who told her where she was and what year it was. Trying not to panic from the startling knowledge, Yvette avoided the fisherman's questions about her attire. She was still wearing her F.B.I vest and with her dark purple button up along with her black pants and boots. Yvette knew she must have looked quite alarming. She heard the man call her gypsy after she refused to tell him where she came from. Once he dropped her off at the docks, she immediately went into her instinct training.
She avoided people was much as she could and found shelter in an abandoned warehouse. For weeks she hid out at that warehouse, trying to formulate a plan. She stole some man's clothes and dressed as a man, seeing that it was easier being a man than a woman in this time period. Stealing was the only way for her to survive.
When it was a month into being dropped into the past, Yvette was nearly going insane with trying to figure out how to get back to 2010. She remembered talking to herself and cursing the scientist that sent her here. She would ask herself over and over, why hasn't anyone tried to come and get her? The F.B.I. should know what happened and try to get her back.
However, she knew the F.B.I. wouldn't come after her. It would be too much of a risk for one agent. She just told herself they would come for her to keep herself from going completely insane.
Though, one day after coming back from the market with food that she had stolen from the stands, she found a piece of paper on her makeshift bed. Thinking it was the F.B.I. trying to contact her, Yvette almost exploded with relief. She feverishly opened the folded paper and read the letter. To her displeasure, it wasn't from the F.B.I.
It was from Dr. Dufor.
He told her that he planned for her to go into the past from the very beginning. In the letter he said that she was the perfect candidate to "get the job done". He didn't make it clear on what job she was suppose to do, but he said that if she did everything he told her to do in the letters he sends, she could come back to the present. Yvette knew from the moment she finished reading that letter she would have to do awful things. Though, at that point, she didn't care anymore. She wanted out of this time period. Yvette was miserable and lonely. Nothing in this time period made sense to her and she would commit any crime just to get out.
The first task she had to do was to get into the Dockyard Gang and become a valuable pawn to them. She didn't question how he knew all these facts; she just did it thinking about the reward.
At first, the gang wanted nothing to do with her, seeing that she was just a lowly woman. Though, when she took out three of their largest men at once, they started to rethink their decision. Yvette did horrible things trying to get into the gang. Things she never wanted to remember as long as she lived.
Once she had their undivided attention, she became a hit man for the gang. With the F.B.I training and experience on her side, she could take out anyone they asked. She mostly killed lowlifes that didn't pay up or betrayed the gang. Killing those people never really bothered her too badly. However, when they started asking her to kill other people that was when she started to get uncomfortable.
Luckily, the gang found another job for her seeing that she earned their ultimate trust. She became a part of a two-man team with a Boss. His name was Hughie Pope. The two of them went around and made deals with important people. Basically, she got to see the corruption in the government. She was like Hughie's bodyguard, always with him, in plain sight or in the shadows.
Yvette was getting use to that way of life. Hughie was kind to her, giving her attention when she needed it. He may have been kind to her, but he was ruthless with anyone who crossed him. So, when she got the second letter from Dr. Dufor, she knew she was going to be seeing that ruthless side of him soon.
For some reason the Doctor wanted her to turn in Hughie to the police. She found it particularly strange after she spent ten months gaining the gang's trust to turn around and destroy it. Though, Yvette remembered the reward for betraying the gang. Yvette knew that in the next few days, Hughie would be killing men who didn't pay their debt. He liked to do it himself when it came to betrayal. She knew that she had to be careful. After Hughie killed four men, Yvette knew that the police would be suspicious and it would be the perfect time to give them a name. The on the night of the last killing, Yvette slipped out and made her way to the Scotland Yard. Dressed as a man she gave the police everything she knew about Hughie and what he did and who he killed. She got out of there as quickly as she could, trying to keep the police from questioning her.
The next day, Yvette carried around her SIG P228 and revolver, concealed in her clothes. If things didn't turn out right, she wanted to be ready. Unfortunately, her suspicions were right. Hughie found out that she had turned him in. Blinded by rage he chased her throughout the streets of London. If she recalled correctly, it ended on the rooftops when she shot him when the two men that were chasing them distracted him.
She remembered passing out from the lack of air. Yvette put a hand up to her neck to feel the bruises, making her wince in doing so. She looked down at her arms to see that they were littered with bruises as well. She remembered being thrown through the wall by Hughie, and her body trembled in pain from the thought.
Another crash from the room below caused Yvette to snap out of her thoughts. She was brought back to the potential danger she was in. Her hand shot to her side where her gun should be.
"Shit," she muttered, as she searched the bed to see if it was there. Then she remembered that she had it in her hand when she passed out. The men, who were chasing Hughie and her, must have found it. This must be their house as well.
"Shit, shit, shit…" she groaned, thinking about the men finding a modern gun. It was one of Dr. Dufor's conditions.
"Don't let anyone see the modern devices or clothes you have. Do not let anyone know that you are from the future. If you do, you will suffer major consequences." She remembered the old man wrote in the first letter. She hated how he used her own words against her. She hated how he used her.
She swept the room looking for some kind of weapon she could use. In the right hand corner, next to the window, she saw a broom.
"That will do," she muttered, as she pushed the covers off of her. She was surprised to find that she was dressed in a long, white nightgown instead of her clothes. Yvette hated dresses. They were so hard to move in, and they always made her trip over her own feet.
She moved so that she sat at the edge of the bed. Her body was screaming for her to stop. She was so sore from her chase from Hughie that it felt like she was just in a bomb explosion but without the wounds.
Yvette sat the edge of the bed for a few moments, trying to gather the strength to stand up. She had to get up. She had to get out of here. She had to find her gun. With those thoughts swarming in her head, Yvette pulled herself up from the bed. She almost lost her balance for a moment, but she recovered and slowly made her way to the broom. Half way through the room, Yvette tripped and fell onto the wooden floor. She froze for a moment, afraid the men below heard her. Once she heard that no one was making they're way to her room, she sat up.
"Alright dress, it is time for you to meet your demise," she whispered, as she took the edge of her dress and started ripping it up her legs. Once she got mid-thigh, she started to rip off the rest of the dress so it looked more like a club dress than an 1800 nightgown. Yvette didn't care, because it was easier to move around in. She pushed herself off of the ground and smiled.
"Ah, much better," she sighed, feeling the freedom to move her legs as much as she needed. Yvette went over to the broom and took it into her hands, getting a feel for it. She simulated hitting someone over the head with it and then jabbing the handle into the gut. "Well, it's all I got," she mumbled, as she quietly made her way to the closed door on the other side of the room.
She opened the door slowly, trying not to make a sound. When she opened it all the way, she saw a staircase leading down to the level below. Feeling the cool wood on her bare feet, Yvette took the stairs one at a time to prevent any creaks in the wood. With the broom firmly in both hands, Yvette strained her ears to hear for any warnings of someone coming her way. On her way down the stairs, two doors came into view. Both of them were open revealing the rooms inside. The room the closest to the stairs Yvette recognized it to be the room she crashed into. It had pale blue paint on the walls and many books and parchment throughout the room. It was very tidy room despite the fact that there was debris everywhere from her being thrown through the wall.
She could hear voices coming from inside the room the closer she got to the landing.
"Can you please be more careful with my things?" a man called out desperately.
"I being as careful as I can be," another man answered in a slightly sarcastic manner.
"Hardly," the other man retorted. "You've already broken three of my vases and one of my picture frames!"
As the two men argued in the closest room, Yvette quietly made her way to the landing and leaned up against the highly decorated wall so the men in the room couldn't see her. She controlled her breathing so she wouldn't panic before a potential fight. Before she could make a break for the second set of stairs leading down to the main level, she had to check for her gun on this level.
She couldn't leave it here because of the time altering phenomenon the insane Doctor told her about. He said that many things could change in the future just by leaving one device behind. Yvette didn't want to have to deal with that when she does get back to the future, so she decided she must follow the Doc's rules.
She took a deep breath and slid against the wall so she was closer to the doorway. She had to look inside the room without alerting the men to see if the SIG P228 was in there.
She closed her eyes and counted to three.
Then Yvette stole a quick glance into the room. She saw the two men had their backs to the doorway, picking up debris. She pulled back before they could sense her presence. She had to steal one more glance to check the surfaces for the gun. Oh how she wished she had a mirror. She could use the mirror to check around the corners without showing her face. It is one of her favorite techniques when she was in a pinch. She never had to stick her neck out to see if there were any enemies waiting for her.
She counted to three again before she took another glance. This time she checked all the tables and the desk. But, she didn't see her firearm. So she focused her attention on the next room. It was much darker than the room before. It had red patterns on the wall and the curtains were drawn, making it hard to spot a black gun from where she stood.
Yvette checked to make sure the men still had their backs to the doorway. To her benefit, they still did. She quickly moved to the other side of the doorway in complete silence.
With the broom still in hand, Yvette moved quickly into the darker room. It was a very cluttered room. Contraptions, books, paintings, and what looked like a makeshift laboratory were buried under the meaningless crap. She saw newspaper clippings of random theft and murder cases along with photographs of a range of people.
"Pack rat," she muttered under her breath, trying not to cough from the smoke floating in the air. Yvette wasted no time in searching for her gun. However, that proved to be harder than she originally thought. She tried not to disturb the room too much; afraid she might cause unwanted noise. Though, she could feel the panic starting to rise in her chest. If she can't find her gun, she might not be able to get back to the present.
That very thought almost put her into hysterics. After all those people she killed, trying to get back to 2010 would have been for nothing. She would be stuck in this time until she died. Her heart was pumping so hard that she could feel it pulse throughout her body.
"Are you looking for this, my dear?" a deep voice called out causally from the doorway behind her.
Yvette froze, feeling her body become numb. She was caught. She was stuck.
Fight your way out. Her instincts told her.
Slowly, Yvette turned around to see a dark haired man standing in the doorway with her SIG P228 in his hand. His hair was sticking up in tuffs and his face unshaven, giving him an almost crazy man look. But his dark eyes were very insightful, as though he could see right through her. He was wearing a simple off white long-sleeved shirt with the cuffs rolled up to his elbows and his collar was opened showing his tanned skin. His black pants were full of white dust from cleaning up the dry wall in the other room.
She looked from his face to her gun and focused in on it. He was holding it rather loosely, so she could easily take it from him. If, she could get close enough.
"Not much of conversationalist, are you?" the man asked, leaning up against the doorframe.
Her eyes darted from the gun back to the man's face. He was strangely calm and it made her rather unnerved. She gripped onto her broom; ready for anything the man was about to throw her.
"Yes, I was looking for that," she answered as calmly as she could.
"Ah, you are American," the man stated rather intrigued.
"So, what's it to you?" she asked, taking a step back for distance between him and her.
"Well, the way you like to dress, for one," the man started, taking a step into the room. Yvette looked down at herself to see the ripped dress. She had forgotten how disgraceful it was to show this much leg in the past. "Also, it partly explains how you came by this unique gun," he continued, holding the gun up to his face, inspecting it.
"It's nothing special," Yvette tried, studying the man's body language as they circled each other. He didn't seem like he was about to spring into a fight. Though, Yvette wasn't going to take any chances.
"Oh, but it is. Look at how much ammunition this gun can hold," he explained, taking the clip out of the gun. This was bad he knows how it works. She had already started the time altering process by handling the gun so carelessly. Yvette needed to get the gun and get away from here as fast as possible.
Once the man shoved the clip back into the gun, Yvette took her chance. She darted forward, shoving the handle of the broom into the man's gut. To her advantage, he was taken by surprise. He dropped the gun on the floor and doubled over and groaned in pain. Yvette dropped the broom and scooped up her firearm, cocked it, and pointed it at the man's head.
"Next time, don't handle a gun so carelessly," Yvette said, as she smirked at the man in front of her.
"She's right you know," another voice came from the doorway. Yvette snapped her head over to see a taller man standing in the doorway with a revolver pointing at her. "You always get careless with the ladies, Holmes," the other man continued, taking a step into the room. The darker haired man gave the lighter haired man an annoyed look as he stood with his hands up.
"Take another step and I'll shoot your friend," Yvette threatened, keeping her gun pointed at the man named Holmes.
That usually worked. All humans are cowards, and don't want to be shot. It's just natural. Though, Yvette didn't expect the taller man to take another step towards her. The action alarmed her. Only a few times in her life this had happened, because either they want the person to die, or they think she's bluffing.
Yvette pulled the trigger and expected the man in front of her to fall to his knees, but nothing happened. She pulled the trigger again and realized that she had no ammunition in her gun. So, she did the next best thing. Ran like hell.
Yvette kicked up her broom at the man named Holmes and darted across the room. She dodged the taller man reaching out to her, and ran through the doorway. She ran swiftly down the staircase and headed straight for the front door. Though, the door wouldn't budge. She saw both men trampling down the stairs after her. She turned around and headed deeper in to the house, hoping to find a back door. She ran past a couple of doors and then she ran into what looked like the kitchen.
An older woman was in there making food, when Yvette came storming into the kitchen. She let out an alarming shout probably because of the gun in her hand or the state of her dress. Whatever the reason why she yelled, it didn't matter, because Yvette found a back door. Though, before she could reach the door she felt a hand clapping down on her shoulder.
She elbowed the man behind her, which caused him to let out painful gasp. But, he didn't let go of her. She turned around to punch the man in the nose, but he caught her fist before she could do so. She saw that it was the taller man who was grasping her shoulder. She swung her left fist at his nose again, but he caught that one as well. The two stood in a dead lock, staring each other down. His face seemed to slightly soften when he looked at her.
Ah, a gentleman, I see.
Yvette could tell by the man's actions that he didn't really want to hurt her. Sometimes living with a bunch of gangsters for a few months one forgets that there are men out there that don't like to hurt women. However, showing sympathy is a major mistake to make with a modern woman who works for the F.B.I.
As the light haired man tried to think of a way to take her down without actually hurting her, Yvette took that moment to attack. She leaned her head back to gain momentum and then slammed it into the man's head causing instant pain to swell up in her head. Though, it got the gentleman to let go of her hands. The man groaned as he held his head in his hands. Yvette shook the pain off only to see the dark haired man running towards her.
"Oh, come on!" Yvette growled. "Give me a break!" she shouted while taking her stance once again. Expecting the man to stop and swing at her, Yvette clenched her fists waiting for the moment to block. Though, the man didn't stop. He continued running, plowing Yvette into the door behind her. He pinned her there so she couldn't move. She saw the man smirk at her, which made her blood boil.
Yvette the slammed her knee into the man's groin and when he let go to double over, once again, Yvette pounded her fist into the man's jaw. She turned to take off again, when she ran into the taller man. Yvette was really sick of this coming out of nowhere routine. She tried to doge him, but he caught her arm, jerking her into his direction. She tried to twist out of his grip, but the man only continued to twist her wrist and snapped her arm up wards causing a loud pop in her elbow.
Yvette tried to hold in her agonizing screech as hot pains shot up and down her arm. She could feel tired legs start to give away from the stress she was putting on her already damaged body. She could feel the man press firmly on a sensitive nerve above her left collarbone causing her vision start to fade.
"Goddamn it," she whispered, as she fell forward into the man's arms, completely blacking out.
Author's Note: Hello again, thank you for reading. Also thank you for reviewing again: The Pyscho Pro, silvanelf, M I Buvered, and Isis the Sphinx it is always apprectiated. And as always send me your thoughts or questions and even suggestions, I welcome everything. I hoped you enjoyed this chapter. I will have the next chapter out soon, I hope.
