A/N: Bless you lake effect snow and the subsequent snowsqualls you produce that prevent me from stirring from the house today. Now if only you will stay until Monday & then I can stay home from work!
I want to thank Book girl fan for the challenge of including "Do you two ever stop fighting?" in a story. I forgot to acknowledge her in the last chapter – thanks sweetie – it was good timing for that chapter!
Warnings – Enough melodrama in this chapter to twirl your handlebar mustache!
7. The Way of the Wizard
"The thinnest thing in the world is the border between good and evil..." Ivan Stoikov
They threw John into a room and locked the door. He was more than a little put out by the whole business.
He fiddled with the band of silver they had forced around his wrist as he had struggled in the car. He wasn't sure what it was for but he had a suspicion. It made his wrist feel funny, rather tingly as if he had the beginnings of pins and needles.
He took a more careful look around the room he was in. It looked like a small library, all bookshelves and comfortable seating. There was a fireplace with a fire snapping and crackling in it and on one table was a tray with a pitcher of water and some glasses. It immediately made him thirsty. He eyed it warily, but then mentally shrugged. If they wanted him unconscious or dead they would have done that already and his head hurt from where it had been slammed against the pavement.
He walked over and poured a glass. He drank it in one go and set down the glass. He took a more careful look around the room. There were several tall, elegant windows. He walked over and glanced out. The windows were locked. He tried using his powers to open the windows, but he hit a barrier in his mind. It had been similar when he was bundled into the car. He hadn't been able to make a move then either. He was closer to having his suspicion confirmed. He wondered if the glass would break if he threw something against it. The room was high enough off the ground to make jumping out the window a cautionary business. He would jump if he had to, but it would most likely end in a twisted ankle at the least. Besides part of him was curious as to what was happening.
He scanned the bookshelves for something to pass the time, picked out a comfortable chair and settled in to read while he waited to find out what was going on.
oOo
Sherlock was beginning to wonder if John was ever going to return home. He had been gone most of the day. He had once or twice before stormed off when annoyed by something Sherlock had done, but he was never gone long.
He usually came back with a peace offering, like take-away. As Sherlock was between cases he was rather interested in eating and hoped John would return soon.
Ah, there's the front door. Here he is.
He tilted his head to listen.
No, footsteps are too light. Not John. Female. Careful tread. Cat? Oh for the love of… No place to hide!
Just before she crossed the threshold into the room, Sherlock, with a scowl on his face, said,
"Ah Catherine, so unexpectedly inconvenient of you to drop by. I am not interested in rehashing old family feuds with you today. Perhaps you can toddle off and bother Mycroft for the day. Tell him I sent you along with my love, will you?"
A petite, dark haired woman stood grinning in the doorway.
"Sherlock, darling, how…pleasant to see you again. I had forgotten how much I missed your clever and biting tongue." She said this with a certain relish, as if she were savoring a tender piece of steak. "I am not here to bother you and I would imagine Mycroft is on his way. Which will make it so much easier to deliver my message. 'It won't work'."
Sherlock actually looked puzzled, "What won't work?" He knew Mycroft had plans, he just didn't really care or pay attention to them.
She paused looked him up and down, her grin increased and, if it was possible, became more wild, "Has Mycroft not told you of his little plan? Oh how delightfully spiteful of him. Especially given the fact that I know about it. Dear Sherlock, you really must pay closer attention to your brother and his machinations. Especially when it involves you and your little pet."
Sherlock narrowed his eyes, as realization struck home. He growled and his hackles rose, "What have you done, Catherine? Where's John?"
"Oh quick to go there I see. Do you actually care for the little wizard? How delightful. This will make this more fun! I figured he was just a necessary plaything. The Great Sherlock Holmes actually has feelings. Wait until I tell the others."
Before she could defend herself Sherlock had crossed the space between them and had shoved and pinned her against the doorframe. He was not gentle. Although initially startled, she just continued that wild grin.
"If you have harmed one hair on his head you will greatly regret it, Catherine," his voice was low, intimate and scary. Catherine shivered with a primordial reaction. She knew he meant it, but as she was in this for higher stakes than either her life or his, she struggled to shrug off his hands and looked up at him, matching the threat in his voice with a challenge in her eyes.
'The time of the Holmes clan is over, Sherlock. We have your friend and we are not going to let Mycroft continue. It will be the death of us all. If you were as smart as you pretend to be, you would ditch your brother and join us."
Sherlock scanned her face. He sneered at her, "I would not join with a bunch of mangy, flea bitten street cats if you were the last clan on Earth. Even if you hadn't taken John. Now tell me where he is and maybe I won't twist your scrawny neck."
She chuckled darkly, "You don't scare me, Sherlock, no mater how crazy you may actually be. Don't worry about the wizard. He's safe and he's comfortable. Once Mycroft gets here with that other tame wizard, I might even take you to him."
Sherlock looked even more intimidating if that was possible and was just about to start shaking her when the front door opened once again. This time the tread was heavier and they both turned to look down the stairwell.
"Catherine," Mycroft greeted. "I see you have managed once again to thoroughly annoy my brother. Although I must say I don't approve the circumstances, you have, it appears, done an excellent job. Sherlock," Mycroft paused and looked warningly at his sibling, "let go before we have another incident."
Sherlock reluctantly let go of the woman. Mycroft walked around the pair and made his way over to John's chair and sat down.
"Now, shall we all sit and try to be civilized. I realize that may be a problem for the two of you but I suggest you give it your best effort." And his mouth curved up in a pleasant smile, although it didn't quite meet his eyes.
Sherlock walked over to the window and stood looking out. Catherine perched imperiously on the couch, looking very cat like, in the 'I've eaten the canary and perhaps the goldfish as well' variety of looks. She all but licked her lips.
"Catherine, my dear, what on earth have you done with the good doctor. I, like Sherlock, will be most displeased with you if something has happened to him. I really don't think you want to bring down the full wrath of The Family with your petty machinations."
Catherine looked smug as she answered, "Oh, please Mycroft, don't pretend you care about one little wizard, except for the disruption to your plans. As I said to your brother, he is fine and I am even willing to bring you to him. I am here to give you a message from the unaffiliated clans and a warning. Your plan is dangerous and it won't work."
Mycroft just stared at her. One corner of his mouth lifted a little bit higher and this time the humour did reach his eyes, but it was still a cold and frosty humour.
"You really have no idea what my plans are. And even if you had a clue you still wouldn't understand all of the ramifications behind them. You will return to your clan leader and you will inform him to stay out of The Family's business, unless they truly wish to join with us and then perhaps they will see the wisdom of what we have in mind." He sat back and crossed his legs, looking very relaxed and at ease, whereas Catherine was beginning to look slightly ruffled.
Sherlock continued to stand at the window, appearing indifferent to the conversation, but Mycroft knew he was listening intently.
Suddenly there was a shift of muscles, a rustle of cloth. Sherlock whirled and turned towards the woman on the couch. "Why? Why come here and announce that you have John and then invite us over to see him?"
She smiled at him, "Why not? Oh and because I can!"
With that Sherlock strode over to the hook his coat was hanging on and wrapped it around himself, scarf placed around his neck, armor in place.
Catherine looked at him. "Where do you think you are going?"
"To rescue John. I have had enough of this farce." He stood there looking at the two of them. "Well are you coming or do I go on alone."
Catherine decided she did not like the feeling of having her plan abruptly pulled out of her hands.
She crossed her arms and glared at Sherlock. He looked steadily back at her. Apparently enough of his dark thoughts filled his eyes to convince her to stand abruptly and lead the way out of the flat.
Mycroft watched all of the posturing, rolled his eyes and followed the two overly emotional cats out of the door.
Why on Earth was it so difficult for cats to control their emotions? He thought.
oOo
John was finding the events of the day to be extremely tiring. It was a testament to his adaptability that he could relax enough in his capturer's house to find himself nodding off.
He was startled by the abrupt opening of the door.
A big, burly man crossed over to where John was sitting and because he was still a bit fuzzy from being rudely awakened he found himself grabbed and held roughly before he quite realized it.
He stood, trying to stay relaxed, wanting to see where this was going.
Through the door came three people, Sherlock, Mycroft and the young woman for whom he had purchased coffee and endured a kidnapping and subsequent headache. Catherine was her name.
Sherlock crossed over to where John was held. He stopped when the big brute growled threateningly and the detective held up his hands to show he had no weapons. He glared at the man before turning to sweep his gaze over John, to confirm for himself, he was fine.
"Alright?" he asked the shorter man softly.
John shrugged with his right shoulder. "Alright," he replied.
Sherlock span in place and turned to Catherine, "Release him."
"I think not."
"I believe so."
"Ah, no."
"No?"
"No."
John sighed, "Alright children. Would somebody mind telling me what the hell is going on?"
Mycroft smiled quietly in John's direction, "A power play."
"Clear as mud."
Mycroft just continued to smile, not clearing the murk.
Catherine turned and smiled a winning smile in John's direction.
"I'm so sorry to have to involve you in all this nonsense my dear John, but seeing as how you are a wizard and my clan doesn't approve of Mycroft's plans for you, I'm afraid you will have to remain here for the time being. At least until we can figure out how to safely neutralize you. Or maybe not so safely." Her smile turned unpleasant.
Sherlock had had enough. Not surprisingly, so had John. They looked at each other and Sherlock ghosted a small smile at John. John blinked once in understanding and quizzed an eyebrow in his direction. Sherlock nodded a careful nod and his grin became wider, more inviting.
John closed his eyes and reached. As did Sherlock. Both felt the barriers that stood between them. One was an emotional barrier. The other, physical. John felt around the edges of the physical one, looking for cracks and weaknesses. It centered on the wrist wrapped with the silver band. He felt carefully along the band until he found the crack, a fine almost invisible seam that joined the band together. He carefully worked at it, forcing the band apart. He really shouldn't have been able to do this, but his capturers had underestimated him, just as everyone else always had. Everyone but Sherlock. There was a soft click, audible only in his mind and the band fell to the floor. All of this took a fraction of a second. Before the others in the room were even aware of what was going on John threw his thoughts toward Sherlock. This time there was no hesitation. Sherlock knew it was time to let John in. All the barriers fell.
They met halfway and it became a true joining.
John was filled with power.
Power like he'd never felt before. It was heady and he felt almost drunk with it as he tried to channel all the energy that swept through him. He wondered he hadn't realized before that their binding had been incomplete, but he'd had nothing to base it on, to compare it to.
In that moment of joining he could finally understand how the wizards truly felt and how the power had gotten away from them.
He opened his eyes to glance at the others there and the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile.
It wasn't a nice smile.
