Chapter Eleven: Recovery and Talk

We trudged into Zeke's house at midnight or so, completely soaked and smelling like dead fish. Zeke took one look at us and took me and Kline to his daughter's closet, insisting that we change. He led Holmes away and left Kline and I alone.

I watched as she rifled through the clothes, finally selecting a pair of jeans and a T-shirt with some rock band on it. She changed swiftly and then sat on the bed, waiting for me to pick out some clothes. I did so quickly and threw them on. Kline sat silently through the entire thing. Finally, just when I was about to leave the room, she spoke up.

"You think she's dead."

I glanced at her, surprised. I was trying to ignore that sinking feeling in my gut. It had been my nearest companion for a total of thirty minutes. The dread, the guilt, and then my stupid optimism. Kline sat on the bed, her arms folded, her eyes full of the dread I felt.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Of course she's alive," I lied, turning my back to her. I was a really crappy liar. She didn't need to see that I didn't believe what I was saying.

"You suck at lying, Jenny. I'll tell you though- she is alive. I saw her jump."

"You saw what you wanted to see."

"I saw her jump. Think back to the last minutes, Jenny. Think back to the reactions of others. Remember everything you saw, and you'll remember seeing her."

I sighed and tried to think back, pulling back the memories.

I saw Christine pull the trigger of her silver gun and nearly fall backwards at the recoil. I saw Marie dive over the side of her own boat. I hit the water at this point, but I could see in the corner of my mind a dark shadow sink in the water even as I began panicking to reach the surface. I had thought it part of the boat, but now that I thought about it, it looked more human shaped. I opened my eyes with just the smallest intake of breath.

"She did jump. She jumped just as the boat went soaring... she's probably down at the docks right now!" I exclaimed. I ran over the closet and began pulling on any shoe that I could find. Kline was at my side in an instant, tugging shoes onto her own feet. I finished before her and ran out the door. Holmes was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking tea with Zeke. He looked up as I came barreling into the room.

"Watson! What is going on?" he asked as I grabbed a coat that hung on the coat rack. I pulled it on, only to find that it hung down to my feet. It was Zeke's coat, apparently.

"You were right, Holmes, she is alive! We have to go down to the docks right now," I said urgently. Holmes frowned and grabbed a coat of his own, pulling it on even as I went flying out the door.

"That doesn't mean she's alive! She could have been knocked unconscious and drowned," he warned as I ran down the street. I heard the door slam and figured Kline was following, or Zeke.

"You're the one who told me to have hope, Holmes, and I'm keeping that hope. Come on!"

It wasn't a very far run to the docks. Zeke lived right next to the church, which was right next to the ocean. Still, it felt like it took eternity. I could hear Zeke breathing heavily as he ran after us, Kline's sneakers pounding on the pavement, and Holmes's little murmurings. My own breath came out in short little gasps. I was really not cut out for running.

We finally reached the docks and I began running down each little pier, screaming Christine's name. Holmes stood at the end, looking at me hopefully as I peered into each boat and at the edges of each pier, hoping to see her clinging to unstable wood. Nothing.

Kline stood behind me, running her hands through the water. I suppose she was hoping to feel something that belonged to Christine. She looked upset, and I realized she hadn't found anything either. Her eyes met mine, but I saw a fiery hope in her eyes that I knew mine did not harbor. Still, we kept going.

We are the third to last pier when we found her.

"Christine!" I shouted hopelessly. I heard a sharp cough, a sniff, and then-

"I'm here. I was wondering what took you so long."

Kline shoved me out of the way even as I ran over to help her up. I nearly fell into the water, but Holmes grabbed my arm and steadied me. I smiled at him gratefully and then returned my attention to Kline and Christine.

Kline was pulling a water-logged Christine out of the water. Her hair was plastered to her head, and her trench coat was ripped to pieces, but her thigh-high boots and shirt and pants were in fine condition. She stood dripping on the dock for a few moments, regaining her footing before looking up and grinning at Kline, Holmes, and I.

"Hey guys."

I swear, Christine had the gift of understatement. I looked warily at her for a few seconds before responding.

"Good to see you, too, Christine."

Then again, maybe I had the same gift.

Christine chuckled merrily and put an arm around Kline happily. She looked absolutely horrible with her pale skin and shredded coat, but she looked to be in good spirits, so we assumed she wasn't injured. She walked over and gave a quick hug.

"Well, it's been a while. Last time I saw you was on, what, Monday? Even then it wasn't exactly a pleasant meeting," Christine reminded me. I blushed a bit, and glanced at her stomach.

"Was Marie telling the truth? Did I crack your ribs?"

"I think we can safely say that she was telling the truth."

"Oops."

Christine cackled and looked over at Holmes. Her smile disappeared when she saw his hard look. She sighed and shook her head.

"I'm assuming that you haven't quite forgiven me yet, Sherlock?" she inquired. Holmes frowned at her, his face pinched and sour looking in the poor lighting. Then his face lightened into a soft smirk.

"Well, if Watson here broke your ribs, I think that you're even."

Christine rolled her eyes and glanced over at Zeke, who was looking quite surprised. She waved sheepishly at him.

"Hey there, Zeke. Sorry about your boat."

"Ace?" he asked hesitantly. Christine shrugged.

"I was at one point. Ace is... well, Ace is real, but I was just impersonating her for a while. My real name is Christine." Christine held out her hand, which Zeke stared at and then shook.

"Pleasure to meet you. I would assume that you're the Christine that Jenny was always moaning about?"

"Well, if she was moaning, then yeah, that's me."

I sighed. I hadn't actually moaned about her. Complained, maybe. Whimpered, maybe. Groaned, maybe. But not moaned. Kline cleared her throat from behind me.

"This is all well and good, but I'm really confused here. First off, Christine is Ace? Second, why would Jenny complain about Christine? Third, why would things not be right between Sherlock and Christine? Fourth, what is up with Jenny and Sherlock? Fifth, why are Christine's ribs cracked? Sixth-" I cut Kline off.

"Why don't we go inside and talk. I'm sure Christine is just dying to get those soggy clothes off."

"Yeah, I'd like to burn most of this ensemble. Ace has really weird fashion sense. I miss my turtlenecks."

We sat at Zeke's kitchen table, each nursing a hot tea. Kline had fallen asleep in the middle of my explanation of events, and even Holmes was looking drowsy. I must admit, I was drifting off at my own tea cup. It was now three am, and we were all exhausted. The only one who wasn't looking tired was Zeke, and that was because he was used to getting up that early. He fluttered around the kitchen, making us more tea and some biscuits. He even promised to make us pancakes once five am came 'round.

Christine was curled up on the sofa in Zeke's den. She had fallen asleep even before we began talking about our own version of events. She claimed to know what was happening in Kline's world and my world, and she probably did, too. Ace had gotten around a lot. We were waiting for her to wake up so we could hear her version of events.

"You could have woken me up, you know," came the sleepy but amused voice of Christine. She plodded into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. Zeke handed her a cup of tea, which she accepted gratefully before sitting down. Christine reached over and tugged on Kline's hair. Kline's head shot up, nearly disrupting the tea cups scattered around the table. Christine shot her a smile.

"Morning, Kline. Nice to see you're alert and all," she said, a yawn interrupting her halfway. Kline smiled.

"Yeah, and you're one to talk."

I rolled my eyes at the playful bickering of Christine and Kline. You would have thought things would be tense between them, what with the capture and masquerade and all. But no, they continued on as though things were normal. I was ready to smack them when Christine continued.

"So I guess you guys want to know what the heck is up with me?"

"You could say that," Holmes said dryly, taking a deep drink of his tea. Christine sighed and closed her eyes, attempting to draw forth words, or so it appeared.

"Ok. Here goes. After I hit Jenny and made a run for it, I went to her house and grabbed my clothes and left her a note. I was pretty darn upset and all, so I completely ditched. I stayed in London for a day or two, not knowing what to do, when I heard this criminal or something talking about how Marie possibly wanted to hire the famous Ace the Assassin. Ok, I had heard nothing about either chick at this point, so I went to Raze. She spilled everything- well, almost everything- and so I made my decision. If I couldn't find Kline in the traditional sense, I would go through the backdoors.

"Raze got me some pictures of Ace and I quickly constructed my costume. I had to change her hair color, though, because it is way too hard to dye brown hair white. Anyway, I contacted Marie and said I was up for hire. She pulled me in to meet me at her London headquarters. I had no clue what she wanted with me, but I agreed anyway.

"So, I'm there, and she drags me into this one room. Voila! Kline is there, tied to a chair, and looking relatively unharmed. Anyway, Marie told me to kill three people. Christine, Jenny, and Sherlock. In that order. I said that was fine, I could do that. I told her to leave Kline alone."

Kline interrupted her, blue eyes slightly troubled. "Why didn't you take me right then? Why didn't you rescue me right away?" she asked. Christine sighed.

"That place was crawling with Marie's people. If I had grabbed you then, we both would have been killed."

"And later? When we were in St. Ives?"

"Same reason. If I took you then, you would be killed and I would too. Pretty pointless. It was better for me to keep my cover and keep you relatively unharmed than blow it and risk your death. Moving on. I had to kill myself, which was my first job. That wasn't too hard. I contacted Todd, who was still involved with theatre, and we got together. He took the pictures I told him to take. With a bit of makeup you can do wonders.

"Ok, so I was dead. Now my next order of business was to get you found, Kline. Unfortunately, Jenny and Sherlock were in St. Ives. Their school was crawling with criminals, and I was being watched by one of Marie's faithful henchmen. I couldn't come right out and say where Kline was, because Marie would know instantly and kill us both. I had to convince them to come to me and figure it out. That was why I met with you, Jenny. I was hoping you would realize with all the religious stuff that I would be near the church. I figured it would take you a day to figure it out, and I knew Wednesday would have a service, so I waited until then. When you came into the church, I ran so that you could follow me out to the docks. Marie was planning on selling Kline to some people on Wednesday evening.

"That's basically it," Christine finished. She folded her hands neatly and set them in her lap. Holmes glared at her.

"Why didn't you tell Jenny or me that you were Ace?" he asked. I nodded. That was a really good question. I was wondering the same thing. Christine sighed, but Kline interrupted her response.

"Because that would have blown her cover also. Marie's henchmen were all over town, and especially in that school. If she met with your or sent you a letter, Marie would find out really quickly. Somebody was sure to see the meeting or read the note. She did it to protect me and herself," Kline explained, catching on quicker than Holmes or I. It made sense, though.

"How'd you know where to shoot the boat so it would blow up?" I asked.

"Well, I didn't spend all my time running around with Marie. I knew how to end the case by Saturday evening. I figured that if we were going on a boat, I might as well find out as much about boats as possible. Old habit. Plus, Kline here made me watch a lot of action/adventure movies. Gas and candles will naturally make an explosion," Christine explained calmly. I nodded slowly. Kline grinned suddenly.

"The outfit, Christine? What was with the leather and trench coat?" she asked. Christine shrugged and ran a hand through her hair.

"Ace wears clothes like that. The real Ace, I mean. She's really into your stereotypical criminal styles. Actually, she wears business suits when she's not on a job, from what I heard."

"The sunglasses?" That was Kline again.

"I knew you would recognize my eyes."

A silence fell over the table as Christine drank her tea and Zeke flitted about the kitchen making food. I sighed slowly.

"So... the case is closed?" I asked. Christine paused and lowered her eyes.

"This case is, yes. The thing is..."

"What?" Holmes asked harshly. Christine set her tea cup down and placed a hand on her forehead.

"I anticipated most of what would happen, Sherlock. But I didn't anticipate that Marie would grab a life jacket before she jumped. I didn't realize that the boat would explode more up than out. I didn't anticipate-"

"Marie surviving," Holmes finished for her dryly. Christine closed her eyes momentarily, and I could see she was really struggling with this. I felt sorry for her. I knew how she felt.

"Yes," she pushed out. Holmes sighed and leaned back in his chair. Kline let a little whimper escape her lips, and I patted her shoulder gently. Christine glanced over at Kline sharply, looking very upset.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize that there was the possibility she might survive. I've never exploded a boat before. I think she was injured, though. And the police know about her now. She may end up in jail still," she offered hopefully. Kline shook her head.

"They'll never catch her. Marie's too smart. You blew it, Christine," Kline snapped. She stood up quite suddenly and disappeared into a room near the back of the house. I glanced over at Christine, trying to read her expression. Her lips were pinched and she was staring off into space. She stood, smiling at Holmes and I.

"Why don't you two talk while I have a quick little discussion with Kline, ok?" Christine said. Before we even had a chance to agree or disagree, Christine was following Kline. I watched as she entered to room Kline had taken refuge in. I heard the door slam and then, to my surprise, lock. I slowly looked back at Holmes, who was scowling at a spot on the table.

"Holmes, you shouldn't look so sour. We're all alive and all right. We have Kline back and she's fine. Christine is back, and she's fine. I'm fine, you're fine, and-"

"And Marie is fine, which is exactly what I didn't want to hear!" he snapped. I frowned at him.

"You shouldn't want your mother dead, Holmes," I informed him. Holmes turned his glare onto me, his eyes glittering angrily.

"She isn't my mother. She hasn't been my mother for years, if you'll recall. The last time I saw her, you nearly died."

"But she loved you, Holmes."

"She wanted you and me dead."

"So? It wasn't like it was a new goal or anything. Maybe she can be redeemed," I suggested. Holmes didn't even grace that with a response, merely stood and walked into the den. I followed. He wasn't escaping that easily.

"Look, Holmes, you have to let go. Don't get obsessed with her or anything. Don't you remember what happened to the original Sherlock Holmes who got obsessed with a Moriarty? Nearly died? Was saved by some weird martial art? You don't know that weird martial art, Holmes, so if you confront Marie there is a large chance you could die," I commented lightly. Holmes whirled to face me.

"Are you saying that me wanting to bring her to justice is hopeless?" he snarled.

"No, I'm saying that you're going to squander your life away by trying to catch the her. You're just a kid, Holmes. You should be worrying about your math test scores, not if the mob boss is going to get caught."

Holmes groaned and sank down onto the sofa, avoiding my eyes. I sat down next to him. "You know I'm right."

"Yes, I know you're right. I think it is somewhat impossible for us to lead a normal life, though. Don't you think, Watson?"

"I could, if I wanted. Which I do, actually, but that isn't the point. This was my last case, Holmes. It should be yours as well. You're already going gray, and we've nearly died one too many times to count. We shouldn't be thinking about things like that. Crimes can be solved by the police," I reminded him. Holmes nodded slowly, his thin hands playing with a sofa cushion.

"But what if they can't solve it? I'm the only one who has the abilities to- to solve these cases," he stammered. I shook my head and placed my hand over his.

"That isn't true. You just get so immersed in the case that you don't see that the police are working just as hard as you. I'm guilty for that as well. But we're sixteen! When we're twenty-one we can worry about criminals and criminal overlords. For now, I want to worry about-"

We were cut off by a very loud crash followed by a scream from the room Kline and Christine were in. I jumped up immediately and ran to the door and started pounding on it. Holmes was at my heels.

"Kline! Christine! Are you all right? Open this door right now!" I screamed. There was silence from the room, and then I heard a distinctive click. The door opened a crack and I threw it open before one of the girls could close it again.

I was greeted by a terrified looking Christine who was sitting next to a very broken lamp. Kline was standing by the door, laughing as Christine sat on the floor and tried to piece the lamp back together again. Holmes looked at the two.

"What happened?" he asked, directing his question towards Kline. Kline was practically choking on her laughter.

"We got a little overzealous in our fight," Kline giggled. I glanced over at Christine, whose eyes were wide but sparkling with laughter.

"The lamp is a casualty! See what happens when you fight, Kline? Someone is always hurt! No, little lamp! Don't give up! Someone call the paramedics, this lamp isn't going to make it otherwise!" Christine howled. I felt a smile slip onto my face. This was more like the Christine and Kline I knew.

Kline ran over to the lamp and lifted the piece that connected the light bulb to the rest of the lamp. She held it dramatically as Christine pretended to sob.

"Speak to me! Oh lamp, speak to me! Jenny, call an ambulance. I'm going to try and resuscitate it!"

To my shock and amusement, Kline put her lips to the light bulb and began blowing air onto it. In between breaths she pressed down on some of the shattered bits of lamp.

"One, two, three! Breath! One, two, three! Breath! Jenny, what are you doing just standing there? Holmes, go get me surgical materials. This lamp needs an operation, stat!"

Holmes ran out of the room, leaving me to stare at Christine and Kline. Kline was wrapping some strips around her hands like gloves and Christine had wrapped a shirt around her head as a surgical mask. I laughed a bit.

"You guys have watched ER one too many times. What happened to yelling at each other?"

"When there is a victim on the premise, you tend to forget petty things like that, Jenny. Are you going to help or just stand there?" Christine asked, glaring at me in what might have been scary had she not been biting back a smile. I let out a sigh of relief.

Things were normal again.

Hours later the lamp was pieced together again and looking remarkably healthy. The 'surgeons' looked remarkably happy with themselves while the 'nurses' were the ones covered with glue. Needless to say, I was not quite pleased with the predicament. How was it that Kline and Christine, the ones fixing the lamp, emerged spotless while Holmes and I, who were hardly involved, were covered in the goop? It didn't make sense, but I wasn't much asking, either.

We were all leaning against the wall when Kline brought up our next topic.

"I think we should go home," she said softly. I looked at her in surprise. Did she mean London or Ashling?

"I'm afraid I must agree with Kline. It is time we returned to our families," Christine agreed. They meant Ashling, obviously. Tears began springing to my eyes, unbidden but unstoppable. I didn't want them to leave. I had missed them so much.

"But... you still have a while until your scholarship ends," Holmes protested. I nodded.

"We can go back to London, live low for a while. You know, watch cartoons on Saturdays and stuff. Get fat. The things teenagers are supposed to do," I suggested. Christine looked down and away from us, unwilling to look at us. Kline, however, looked at us straight in the eyes.

"I miss my mom and dad. I miss Ashling. I miss my school and small, not dangerous cases. I'm sorry, Jenny, but it's time we go home. My mom doesn't even know I'm alive, I'm sure. I want to be with her again," replied Kline. I sighed and stood up. I knew it had been too good to be true. Christine and Kline couldn't stay with us forever.

"Couldn't you stay for just a little while longer?" I heard myself plead. Christine looked up at me, her eyes sad but firm.

"No."

One little word and I realized everything. Kline and Christine hadn't emerged unscarred, like I had thought. They had their own things going on in their head. They needed time with people who weren't rushing into danger every day. They needed and deserved a quiet life. Even as Holmes continued to protest and argue with Kline, I felt my resolve giving away. They didn't belong in England. They had suffered as much as we had, Kline even more so. Holmes and I had no right to keep them here and make them feel guilty for wanting to leave.

"Ok," I said, interrupting Holmes even as he said no. Kline looked at me thankfully and I saw Christine's shoulders relax. Neither had wanted to argue with us. They just wanted to go.

"I'll contact your mothers and tell them to meet you at the airport, and then I'll call our airport and get you a flight for... tomorrow, say?"

They didn't even answer, they merely nodded.

I left the room and went to talk on the phone. It was time for them to go.

Next chapter is the last one... please review!!