Very short chapter, because I just posted yesterday. But I feel bad for leaving all y'all high and dry for so long… this is more of a gesture of apology, saying, hey look I posted yesterday and today too, I'm here to stay!
So yeah. Thanks to lostmypen120.
We shared the stars and the night sky in that fashion, diving and racing and swooping in graceful patterns around each other.
When we finally returned, the sky was growing magenta with the impending sunrise. Sebastian was asleep, so we changed into pajamas and sat on the counter, sharing a bowl of popcorn.
"Let's make the call," he said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence. I looked at him sharply.
"What, now?"
"Right now." He was already opening one of the drawers and removing a small, cheap, disposable mobile that we'd purchased a few weeks earlier in preparation. A messy bunch of wires and chips and mikes were attached to the bottom to distort Jim's voice so it wouldn't be recognizable.
"But I've been up all night, I want some sleep! And you know how pissy Seb is when you wake him-,"
"Swan, am I anything but thorough? It'll take many hours to get the warrants, amass a properly trained force, get them here, and do the bit of research necessary to back up the anonymous tip. We've got plenty of time to sleep and pack," he said dismissively, punching in the numbers. "Now hush."
My mouth hung open in indignation and surprise for a moment before I shut it, snapping my teeth together. It would be enough for us- it would give us enough time to sleep well, shower, pack, and maybe go out to lunch.
"Hello, I'm calling to report a bit of information," Jim said in a very authentic American accent. "It's about the Imperial Labs incident. Two people, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, stole important serums that were meant for genetically engineering an avian-homo-sapien hybrid, and burned the place down to cover up for it. They have used the serums on themselves and are planning to sell it to the highest bidder in the Middle East." He spouted off Harry Watson's address and hung up.
"See? Done," he said, his grin huge. And infectious. I found myself smiling, riding yet another adrenaline rush.
"Oh, gimmie that," I laughed, reaching for the phone. I took it from him and put it on the floor, then jumped off the counter to land heel-first on it. It crunched beneath my foot, and I picked it up and put it in the sink, running water over it for good measure.
"Bedtime now, darling, we're on a schedule," Jim drawled carelessly, offering the bowl to me. I grabbed a handful of the seeds from the bottom and crunched on them, enjoying Jim's wince. They were my favorite part, much to his disgust.
I rinsed the bowl in the sink and he snorted at my care and headed upstairs without another word. Adrenaline rushes didn't last long for him anymore, and I could sense that he was ready to be away from everyone for a while. I doubted he was going to sleep, but I yawned, so I decided that, even if he didn't, then I would.
Up to my room, brushing my teeth in the bathroom, and crawling into bed, I let my mind fade to gray, blank and eerily lifeless, a sort of autopilot practice I'd adopted when I was very young.
I didn't want to think about anything- the game, the man I'd grown up with sleeping in the room beside mine, the two Londoners a few miles away fretting over newfound wings, the Americans scrambling to respond to the anonymous tip. I didn't even want to think of Detective Inspector Lestrade, an ocean away, struggling without his consulting detective, or poor Toby, in the care of the servants at Jim's estate in England.
Empty and gray. I lie awake for a long time, thinking nothing, hardly breathing.
You guys see the plan yet? There will be action, of course- darn Americans and their guns.
Feedback please? Kthanx!