Lying on the floor of a small yellow room with her hands and feet tied and a piece of tape over her mouth, Maddy began to wonder why everyone seemed to be mistaking her for someone else. It wasn't as if she was so incredibly remarkable. She was not too tall or too short. She had always tried to be unobtrusive, and yet Mycroft Holmes had mistaken her for Sherlock's bosom pal, and these kidnappers had mistaken her for Mycroft's mistress.
She had seen four of the kidnappers since she had arrived: The woman, two thugs, and the man who had pulled her into the van. He appeared to be the leader. Her hands were held firm, and she felt a little sick from the bad tasting tape over her mouth.
One of the thugs looked down at her as she lay against the wall. "Is that the kind of girl that rich blokes like?" he asked, "she don't look like much to me."
"What do you expect her to look like?" Thug two said.
"I don't know, I just thought that rich blokes would want someone, you know, more sexy."
"She might be sexy," thug two said, " You can't always tell by looking."
"Huh?, yes you can."
"I mean who knows what kind of techniques she has. I hear that those professional girls know things that can blow a man's mind."
The two of them turned and looked down at Maddy crumpled on the floor. She wiggled her feet to increase the circulation and her left shoe fell off.
"You mean, her?" Thug one said, "She looks pretty tame to me."
"Well then, she might be one of those 'obedient' girls. Guys like him are all into kinky stuff. She might look hot in leather straps."
"Nah, he wouldn't want no one submissive." Thug one replied, "I heard that powerful government types all like to be dominated. You know, they like women with whips and really sharp heels."
"It doesn't matter what they like," Thug two said, "all that matters is that we have her and he'll want to get her back."
They turned as the door opened and the boss came in. He looked down at Maddy and then gestured to the thugs. "Pick her up." He said pulling out a phone. "Let's see how Mycroft Holmes likes seeing his lady bound and gagged." The two men glanced at each other grinning before picking Maddy up by her elbows and helping her stand. The man took a picture of her face.
"Look more worried. Look more scared," the man ordered, but Maddy couldn't look scared. Being scared meant that she had something to fear. There was no fear, only certainty that she was going to die. She was nothing to Mycroft Holmes. She sat quietly hoping that they would be content with tossing her out on the street as soon as they learned her real value.
The leader snapped another picture of her lying on the ground and then walked toward the thugs. "She looks pretty wilted. Give her some water or something so she'll look better on the video," he said. "We want him crying over her."
"But boss, do you really think that this Holmes guy has the power to release Dolf from prison?"
"My information came from the highest authority. Mycroft Holmes has much more power in fact than he has on paper. We get to him, and we can have whatever we want. You don't know how long I've been looking for his weakness, so get that girl looking decent before I get back. I'm going to drop this picture off somewhere conspicuous."
"Alright boss." Thug two said as he left. "Hey, go untie her." He told the other one, "Give her some water."
The man untied her feet and mouth, but kept her hands tied behind her. He held the water to her lips. It spilled down her front.
"Now look at what you've done!" thug two said. "She can't have that stain on the video. We're going to have to dry that shirt.
"May I go to the bathroom." Maddy asked, her voice cracked and dry.
"Should we?" Thug one asked.
"Yeah, let her go clean up."
The man untied her hands, and she rubbed her wrists as he shoved her into a small bathroom with a toilet, a sink and little else.
"This door don't lock." He said, "so don't get any ideas."
As soon as the door closed Maddy raised her eyes and began looking around the room. She climbed up on the toilet and tried to wedge herself out of the small window. She could get an arm out, or her head, but she couldn't fit through.
She climbed down and putting her hands on her waist, she felt the bulge that was her phone. She pulled it out. She could call for help! But who would she call, Mycroft? She had just escaped from him. Calling him would give him power over her. She would owe him, and then he'd insist that she help him.
But what Mycroft wanted was something that she would not do. Sherlock had given his life and his reputation to get the freedom to leave here, the chance to find the people threatening the ones he loved. He had made a big choice, and Maddy respected it. There was no way that she would try to trick him into returning to his old problems, and she was sure that Mycroft was one of his old problems. It would be like someone dragging her back to Alabama to live with her step-father. That time had passed. There was no turning back.
But then, who could help her? Angela was in another city. Abud was dead.
Suddenly the grief that Maddy had been suppressing welled up inside of her. She squatted down onto the bathroom floor and started to cry. Abud had been in such a situation. Things had suddenly turned bad, and they had decided to shoot him and the other person who had worked with him. Mycroft said that it was someone named Moriarty who did it. He also said that Moriarty never did these sort of things himself. That means Abud's killer was still out there. Some people would think about revenge, but Maddy couldn't. What did it matter who killed Abud. All that mattered was that he was dead. She grasped her legs with her arms wanting someone to talk to when she realized, she could call John. John would help her.
Maddy jumped up and turned the faucet so that the sound of running water filled the room, then she climbed up on the toilet and leaned out of the window.
"Hello? Who is it? How did you get this number." John said in rapid succession.
"John, it's Maddy, I need help."
It took a while of trying to read street signs and identify landmarks but eventually John thought he had enough information to find her.
"Stay calm," he said, "We'll be there as soon as we can."
Maddy walked out of the bathroom upright and stiff lipped secure in the knowledge that her kidnappers would not guess that a black scarf was fluttering in the wind outside of the bathroom window signaling where she was.
"She's pepped up a bit." Thug two said looking her over. "Sit her in the chair over there until the boss returns."
Less than an hour later, the door was kicked in and three people were being led out to police cars. The boss had never returned.
Maddy found herself sitting on the back of an emergency van sipping a box of juice with a red blanket on her shoulders. John stood beside her kindly waiting for her to recover.
DI Lestrade walked over and patted John on the shoulder. "John, it's good to be working with you again. I haven't seen you for a while."
"Not since the funeral." John said.
"Yes, everything has been cockeyed since Sherlock's death." Lestrade commented.
At the name, Sherlock, John blinked and turned his head away.
"There's been all sorts of hell down at the force. All of the cases that Sherlock solved are up for review. The sad thing is, I still need him. There are new cases everyday. Cases that he could have solved in minutes, but they still puzzle me. I could use your input if you have the time unofficially of course. Can you help? Just come over to talk, and work on a few cases?
"I'm not Sherlock." John said, "I'm not the genius. I'm just...me."
"Just because you're not Sherlock doesn't mean you don't have years of experience solving crimes." Lestrade added, "Come on John, I'm desperate!"
John looked up into the detective's eyes and then nodded. "I think that I might like that," he said. Lestrade grinned broadly and patted him on the back again.
"Glad to have your help. I'll call you tomorrow. Lots to do tonight. Apparently this group was planning all kinds of mayhem. I've got to take some more photos. Call in some people. Anyway. Look forward to having that talk," he said, and he was off.
Maddy took another sip of juice. "So Maddy. I'm going home. You can come and stay over tonight, or I can take you anywhere you like. Do you have somewhere to go Maddy?"
Maddy thought about the expensive hotel room. 'I have rented this room for three nights,' Mycroft had said, 'so feel free to come and go as if it is your own.'
"Yes," Maddy said, "I would like to stay over at your flat tonight, if it's alright with you. Is something wrong?" Maddy asked. She was looking at John, and he was looking at something in the distance. "What is it? What do you see?"
"It's nothing." He said, "A black car. I thought that it might be ... someone that I know. I just couldn't understand why he'd come."
Maddy turned and looked. She had the feeling that she knew whose car that was. She took off the blanket, then John helped her down and they took a taxi to his flat. Mrs Hudson frowned as they climbed up to his rooms, but she didn't object.
"You can stay on the couch," he said, "bathroom's over there, kitchen is there. I'll make us some tea."
"My clothes!" Maddy cried looking around for her bag.
"I've talked to Lestrade. As soon as they go over everything to see that there is nothing that needs be held in evidence, they'll give it back. Until then, I'll ask Mrs Hudson if she's got anything for you to wear." John said reassuringly before turning to go downstairs.
Maddy sat down on the battered couch. 'It isn't like I've left anything particularly valuable,' she thought, 'the only things that I'd want back are my scarf and my Snow Queen book.' she thought of the silk scarf that was probably still dangling from the window. She had liked it almost as much as the phone that was wrapped in it. Then after Abud's death, Sherlock had left her the book. How was it that three of the things that she valued most in the world had come from a man who she had spent less than twelve hours with?
She hid the phone back in her waistband and lay back on the old couch. She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.
Maddy was ten, sitting in the kitchen of the London house. Her mom was cooking. Maman Mildred knocked on the door and came in. "So how is that Lemon custard coming along.?" Mildred asked.
"Horrible." Mom said, "I just don't have the hang of making custard."
"Oh let me help you there." She said sliding her hand around the spoon and taking mother's place at the stove. She looked up and smiled, "Hi there little Maddy, how are you?" She said just as Suzanna rushed through the door.
"Maman, Maman!" She cried.
"Suzanna?!" Mildred said, "Did you even knock? Go out of that door and try to enter again like a civilized little girl."
Suzanna signed and walked out of the door. She knocked, and Maddy woke up face down on the floor by the couch in John and Sherlock's flat.
"Suzanna!" She said, "How could I have forgotten about Suzanna?"