Notes: From J.J. Hatter: I love trains. I do...BUT WHY MUST THEY BE HERE?!

Ahem...again, nothing about these stories is supposed to make a lick of historical, or even totally fictional, sense, so, just accept that we have...trains. Enough chatter! Time for…

Chapter VI: Derailment

Mianbao Train Station; the last train was preparing to leave platform seven. Dr. Crane and his new bride, Mei, a mountain cat, were walking side by side as the newlyweds prepared to board the train to Hong Kong.

"Which car are we taking?" asked Mei.

"Oh...just this one," smiled Crane, and stopped. Mei grinned.

"First class!"

"Of course."

As Mei boarded the train car, Crane glanced about, watching as a group of red-dressed train attendants loaded luggage into the first class luggage van. He tilted his head, curious…

...There was a crow standing nearby, talking to one of them…

...Had he seen that crow before?

Mei popped back out, smirking as she tapped his wing, getting his attention again.

"Hurry, Dr. Crane!" she teased, mimicking a certain detective's voice. "The game's afoot, and your wife needs you!"

Crane chuckled, and bowed playfully.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, and got into the first class drawing room he had cemented for them both.

As Crane shut the door that led back to the platform, and out of the train, Mei chuckled as she found a bottle of champagne nearby.

"First class? Champagne? You know how to spoil a girl, don't you?"

Crane responded by giving her a peck of a kiss on the cheek.

Hearing a sharp tapping sound in the hall of the van, he peeked outside of the drawing room, where he saw the conductor speaking to a woman in a truly gigantic outfit.

"I'm sorry, madam," said the conductor. "You can't use the lavatory till the train leaves the station."

Crane rolled his eyes silently, then shut the drawing room door. He smiled at Mei.

"You're not just any girl," he said. "Now, shall we have a drink…?"

Two hours later…

The champagne bottle had long been emptied.

Mei and Dr. Crane lay against each other, sleepily, in the drawing room. The two shared a kiss, lost in that blissful haze most newlyweds feel before their honeymoon truly begins.

"Crane, there's no place else I'd rather be…"

"There's no one else I'd rather be with."

Mei giggled...then her ears flicked, and her feline eyes widened and blinked, as she pawed, kitten-like, at his vest.

"Um...Crane?"

"Hm?"

"What's this?" Mei asked, pulling a small black box out of his pocket.

Crane looked away, a bit sheepish.

"Um...it was a wedding gift from…"

He trailed off.

Mei nodded.

"I see. What is it, exactly?"

"One of his experiments; said I'd need it 'if the strains of marriage caused my heart to stop altogether.'"

Mei rolled her eyes, smirking.

"I see," she said again, tucking the box back into his pocket.

Just then, a knock came at the door, and it opened, revealing a railroad attendant, standing with a polite grin, holding a bouquet of roses.

"With our compliments, Dr. Crane," smiled the blue heron who held the nosegay. "And to you, madam."

Crane raised an eyebrow, but only said, "Thank you."

The attendant nodded, smiling just a little wider, entered the room fully, turned to place the bouquet down…

And shut the door behind him.

About half a second later, the lights all over the van flickered fiercely, and the heron's gentle, polite, distant smile became wide, vicious, and icy clear.

A knife suddenly flashed into the attendant's wing, and he lunged forward.

Crane and Mei ducked aside, dodging quickly as the knife stabbed into their seat, then Crane kicked the heron to the ground, while Mei grabbed hold of the knife in the seat.

Dr. Crane held down the assailant with his talons, while Mei grabbed the knife, pointing it at the heron.

"I think it's time for you to leave," she said, coldly, then nodded at her husband. "Open the door, Crane."

The doctor nodded, only briefly surprised by his wife's ferocity (she WAS a cat, and a martial arts teacher, after all), then flung the heron out of the train.

Crane went to a box nearby that he had brought into the drawing room, and opened it, revealing a collection of throwing blades. He went to the drawing room door, opened it, and peered down the corridor.

"Where did you get those?"

"From the Other Holmes."

"Who...?"

Another attendant stood at one end, approaching them...

Out of nowhere, the bird in the gigantic dress swung out of another drawing room, and kicked the approaching attendant own. Then she whipped around, facing in Crane's direction. The doctor jumped back into the room as a pair of knives whistled through the air and caught two other attendants – each of them carrying knives as well – that were just coming around from the other side of the train.

The bird in the giant dress suddenly swung toward Dr. Crane, who held up a throwing blade.

A pair of red eyes (lined with mascara) connected with a pair of gold, and he stopped, stunned.

"...Holmes?!"

"You say one word about this disguise, and I will impale you, Crane. I didn't have much time."

Without another word, the peacock entered the room, flinging off the lady's summer hat he wore. Mei stared; she seemed more horrified by the detective's presence than the earlier assassin's.

"Oh, no," she muttered.

"There will be more coming," Holmes said darkly. "Doctor, guard the door. We don't have much time."

Crane nodded, returning to where he was, a blade already held up, ready to throw.

Holmes went to the door that led outside the train, and peered out, watching as the train approached a bridge, overlooking a wide river, in the distance...

"How many are you expecting?" Crane called over his shoulder.

"At least six more."

"Who are they?"

"A wedding present from Maddohatta. Lovely ceremony by the way," he added, leaving the door and going over to Mei. "Many a tear shed."

"Crane, please, shut the door!"

At that moment, another heron popped up. Crane wasted no time, flinging a blade with one hand and immediately reaching for another.

"Just a minute, darling!"

Without warning, Holmes grabbed Mei by the shoulders. The cat blinked.

"Do you trust me?"

"What?"

"I said, do you trust me?"

"...Not really."

"...Well...I'll just have to something about that. Goodbye!"

And, without another word, he flung her off the train. She screamed as she fell from the car...over the bridge...and into the water below.

She popped up again soon after, sputtering and hissing; Gods, she HATED getting wet...

"Hey! Over here!"

She turned, swimming with her chin barely over the surface, as a boat appeared, coming down the river. Seated in the boat was a large panda, assisted by a Tigress, who manned the oars, silently.

"Hi there!" the panda said, brightly. "Congratulations, by the way, on your wedding!"

The boat stopped meeting the paddling and drenched Mei halfway.

"I'm Pocroft," the panda smiled brightly, as the Tigress helped pull Mei aboard. "I think Crane calls me 'the Other Holmes,' right?"

Mei groaned, beyond irritated.

"Oh, so there are two of you. How marvelous. Can this night get any better...?"

Meanwhile, back up on the train.

"Well, who's up to bat next?!" taunted Crane, still focused on the herons attempting to storm the room, tossing another throwing blade.

"Crane, please, shut the door."

Crane did, and turned, mouth open to speak...

Then stopped, befuddled.

Where's Mei...?

Then, he realized the door that led out of the train was still open, and Holmes was standing beside it.

He looked up at Holmes, eyes narrowed.

Holmes sighed, holding up his wings, as if in surrender.

"It had to be done."

Crane bolted to the still open door, and looked out, head turned in the direction the train was coming from.

Then, he turned back to Holmes, eyes wide with horror.

"She's safe now," said the peacock, calmly.

Horror turned to murder. He growled.

Holmes gulped.

"In my own defense, I timed it perfectly..."

Before the albino could get another word out, Crane pounced, pinning Holmes to floor, grabbing his throat.

"DID YOU JUST KILL MY WIFE?!"

"No-"

"DID YOU JUST KILL MY NEW WIFE?!"

"Of course not!" Holmes snapped, breaking the maddened Crane's grip around his neck...only to receive a stinging smack across the face.

"How can you say that when you just THREW HER OFF A TRAIN?!"

"I TOLD you, I timed it perfectly!" Holmes snarled, trying to push Crane off him.

"WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!" Crane hissed, tearing off part of the dress, then reeling back for another strike.

Holmes snapped out both legs and held Crane in a headlock.

"Now, calm down-"

"EXPLAIN!"

"BY THE TIME I EXPLAINED, WE'D BOTH BE DEAD!"

As if on cue, the remaining herons burst into the drawing room. One of them held a strange device; a long, slender, golden rod, with a handle and a trigger, which he aimed directly at Crane's head...

Two hours earlier...

The bird in the gigantic dress, pretended to leave...then turned right back around once the conductor was out of sight, silently slipping into the lavatory and flipping the "vacant" sign to "in use."

Inside, the bird peered through a grate nearby...and saw, in the room besides, a group of heron attendants readying knives...and two other things. One was a large launcher, like a giant crossbow, but fired multiple rounds...and the other, held by one particular heron, was a long, gold rod, with a trigger attached, which he loaded with small firework capsules.

The bird found the electric box, which was held in the lavatory, and broke off the knob of the sink. Then they took a lipstick capsule, and emptied it, and then filled the container with a bit of powder, then put a stop on it.

Next they removed a chain from the flush mechanism, tied it to a small lead weight they carried with them.

Just before leaving, they flung a dagger at the knob in the box, and the electricity, temporarily jammed, caused the lights to flicker.

Then, they slipped into the room next door, and flung a smoke pellet inside. As the attendant assassins choked and blindly stumbled about for the source, he managed to remove an arrow from the belt for the crossbow, and replaced it with the lipstick, then placed the container of phosphorous into the barrel of the rod, before jumping back out of the room, and heading down the hall to the drawing room, grabbing a small grenade one of the goons had dropped as they left...

Back in the present time...

BANG!

WHOOMPH!

"AAAARRRRGGGHHH!" screamed the heron with the rod, as the phosphorous set him ablaze.

Holmes pushed Crane off, slammed the door shut, jammed it with a knife, and turned back to the doctor, eyes blazing, removing the rest of the garments, revealing his usual suit of clothes...which only emphasized the make-up on his face. Then he tied the lead weight and chain to his knife, and the other end of the chain to the pull-string of the grenade.

"That was no accident," Holmes growled. "That was designed. Anything else? No. Right. Crack on, then."

And Holmes swung out of the door and grabbed onto the handrails outside the car, moving carefully along them.

Crane stared after him for a moment, sighed, then followed.

"Don't worry, doctor!" Holmes reassured, shouting to be heard over the noise of the wind in their ears, the rattling cars, and the engine ahead. "She's as safe as animally possible!"

"Where?"

"With my brother!"

Crane groaned, and snapped out a sudden kick, catching Holmes in the back.

"I'm supposed to be on my honeymoon! Why did you lead them here?! Why did you have to involve us?!"

"They're NOT here for me, Crane! They're here for you!"

Just then, in the car the two had left, the drawing room door fell open, and a heron ran to the open outward-leading door, and, seeing the two further down, aimed a similar rod at them.

KIEWEESHK!

A blazing ball of fire shot towards them; they pressed tight against the train, just avoiding it...albeit, with singed tail feathers.

BOOM!

The grenade went off, and the attendant was blown out of the train, shrieking.

"Luckily," said Holmes, "so am I."

"What WAS that?"

"The fireball? A Dragon's Neck."

"What?!"

"No time; ask me later!"

At the front of the first class van, Holmes kicked open the outward door.

"Mind the door!" he called to Crane, then swung inside.

A fox couple seated in the drawing room gaped, scandalized, rightly shocked by the sudden appearance of an albino peacock in women's make-up swinging into their room.

"Good evening," Holmes smiled, placidly. "I think you will find the second class more comfortable."

The couple just stood, stock still.

Holmes glared...and, without warning, shouted and clapped his "hands."

"TO THE SOUTH, QUICK!" he bellowed. "MARCH!"

The two left the room, mostly because they were sure the stranger in their quarters was totally insane.

Holmes slammed the door behind them.

Crane swung into the room a bit later, shutting the door behind him, then looked down.

Holmes lay on the ground, wings crossed, eyes closed.

"Lie with me, Crane."

Crane groaned, thoroughly exasperated.

"Why?!"

"I insist," Holmes said, and tugged his friend down after him. As soon as both were lying on the ground, the peacock coolly took out his old pipe, and lit it, before crossing his wings again and beginning to puff.

Crane fidgeted, then whispered, "What in the name of China are we doing?"

"We are waiting. I am smoking."

No sooner had Holmes said this, then a flurry of crossbolts shot through the walls of the drawing room, whizzing above their heads and shattering everything they touched; the high-powered launcher was at the back of the coach, and the thin, wood walls were all too easily broken by the heavy arrows.

"Waiting for what?" Crane hissed as arrows hissed over him.

"Your window of opportunity," Holmes replied, patiently, and handed Crane one of the throwing blades he had left behind. "You should have exactly five seconds. Make it count."

Just then, the launcher stalled; the lipstick container in the belt caused it to jam.

The instant the arrows stopped flying, one of the two attendants who manned the machine reached down for a grenade...

Crane leapt up, aimed, and threw the blade through the hole in the wall. It spun through and caught the grenade holding attendant in the shoulder.

Crane ducked back down, and, a second later, the arrows came again.

"How many windows can I provide?!" Holmes grunted. "I told you to make it count!"

"I did."

The attendant pulled the blade out of his pocket...

Then realized he had pulled the string from the grenade upon the impact.

He glanced up at his partner, back at the grenade in his hand, and gulped.

KABOOM!

The second grenade blast caused the back of the first class coach to burst apart, and the chain connecting it to the second class shattered.

Holmes and Crane left the drawing room, and went to the back of the train; without any back wall, the coach allowed a brilliant panorama of the night behind them...along with the remaining cars, coming to a halt.

The two stared after it...then Crane sighed, exhausted, and slumped down, leaning against the wall. Holmes did the same on the wall opposite of him.

"Well...that was fun."

Silence.

"...Nice night, isn't it?"

Further silence.

"...I'm sorry."

"No, you're not."

Now Holmes was silent.

For a moment.

"Who would have thought a honeymoon in Hong Kong could be so dangerous?"

"I was looking forward to it, Holmes. I really was. Me, Mei, and no one else. Yourself included."

"Oh, come now, doctor; by your own admission, you've never enjoyed Hong Kong..."

"I've never been to Hong Kong! Out of all the places in China you could get a case, somehow that escaped you, and I never went before!"

"Or, you're just too fragile at the moment to remember, and have suppressed it..."

"Shut. Up. Tell me Mei is safe."

"I can't do both."

Crane slapped a wing over his face.

Holmes paused, then sighed.

"She is," he said at last. "I'm dead certain of it. I promise."

"...Why were we targeted in the first place?"

"Elementary, my dear Crane. The answer is two-fold..."

"Let me guess: he's after us...because of you."

Holmes bristled, head feathers rising agitatedly.

"I think YOU should take some of the blame..."

"Oh, and here it comes..."

"Had you and Mei not been so determined about your wedding..."

"Any moment..."

"We...I could have solved this case by now!"

"And there it is. So, it's all my fault, huh?"

"Well, the argument could be made that your...nuptials were rather badly timed!"

"No, Holmes. It really couldn't."

Holmes sighed, defeated...but not admitting it.

"Well, in any case," he began slowly. "Circumstances as they are, Maddohatta won't stop trailing you until you are dead, I am dead, or I have stopped him; therefore, our...partnership...has not run its full course."

Holmes bit his lip, then went over to Crane's side.

"My friend," he said softly. "If you would just see this all through to the end...I swear, by all the Gods there are...I will never, NEVER, ask for your help on another case ever again."

Crane eyed Holmes suspiciously. He was torn by the sincerity he saw in the peacock's eyes; it wasn't often he saw it.

After a few seconds, he sighed, and shook his head.

"'Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more...'"

"'The game's afoot!'" quoth Holmes, excitedly. "That's the spirit, Dr. Crane! Now," he went on, turning away again, looking back into the night as he thought aloud. "You might be wondering: what does a criminal mastermind want with a simple gypsy fortune teller? Her brother, that's it! Once we've found him, and we must-"

"After you find my luggage...or what's left of it."

Holmes stopped short, then slouched as he went to do so.

Crane smirked, triumphantly.

"Where are we going anyway?" he asked over his shoulder.

"We're leaving China."

"Yes, but where are we going?!"

Holmes flew back to Crane's side, theatrically looking out over the night.

"Paris, France, Europe," he declared. "The most romantic place in the world, they say...why wasn't your honeymoon there?"

Crane rolled his eyes.