The car drops them off at home. Mycroft stays only long enough to talk to security before getting back into the car and rushing away. Walter, one of their regular security, comes up from the basement and situates himself just inside the front door.
Maddy goes to her room. She changes out of her dress and into a comfortable shirt and trousers. Then she paces through the halls rubbing her neck, unable to sleep.
Her phone keeps ringing. First Mrs. Jones, then Katy, then Ann call. They've all seen the fire on television, and they feared the worst.
She assures them that she is fine, and then goes into the kitchen to find Mr. Tennison is there. Mr Tennison is the butler. She only occasionally sees him, because he has officially retired, but the formal way he's dressed, and the fact that his thermos is sittings on Mrs Winslow's desk suggest that he plans to stay a while.
He hands her a mug of warm cocoa, and she smiles at him. It heats her hands, so she holds it close to her chest hoping to warm up her heart.
"There's a television in the security room if you'd like to watch the news, Miss." Mr Tennison says.
Maddy nods, then she walks through the hall, passing Walter and pattering down the stairs to reach security. She knocks, and they let her in.
Security is a small room with a host of monitors in one corner and a little kitchenette and snack room in the other. A man with headphones glances over at her when she enters, before turning back to look at the screens which are constantly watching the grounds. One shows the inside of the front door, and she wonders how often they've watched her say goodbye to Mycroft through those screens. Two men sit at the wooden table watching the television which shows a blazing building. The bright red flames reflect off of the river illuminating the dark waves. Thin streams of water soar in arcs toward the blaze, but they seem much too small to have any effect on limiting the conflagration.
Under the image, words flash across the screen:
Homeless shelter ablaze.
Fifteen found dead in riverside fire.
Accident or act of terrorism?
Maddy turns away then. She can almost feel the heat of the blaze, hear the sound of the boom, the sounds of the fire crackling. She leaves the room and walks down the hall to Sherlock's lab.
The concrete walls and stained table seem comfortingly real to her after an evening which felt like walking through a dream. She goes to the metal bunk in the corner and lays down on it. Rolling onto her back, she looks up to see the chalk image of a skull scratched on the ceiling over the bed. Is this what Sherlock thinks of when he organizes his mind palace in the morning? Maddy rolls on her side and falls asleep.
She wakes to the touch of a hand on her arm. Looking up, she sees Mycroft's concerned face. He's sitting on the edge of the bunk still in his clothes from the previous night. Maddy sits up and hugs him.
"Madeline, how are you? I didn't get a chance to talk to you last night."
"I'm fine."
"I am sorry to inform you that Mrs Woese is dead. At last count, there were seventeen dead, thirty-five injured. There may be more, but many of the homeless fled the scene before the authorities arrived. "
"What about Subramanian?"
"If you'll excuse the pun, we are hot on his trail," Mycroft says. "My people are working around the clock. We will prove that he was the one responsible for this action."
"Then what?"
"Then, we will see that justice is served," Mycroft says his face becoming positively scary as his frown lengthens. "I would like for you to remain at home for the next few days for your own safety. Subramanian is becoming desperate, and desperate men are prone to lashing out."
"Don't worry," Maddy says. "I don't even plan to leave this room. I've been kidnapped before, remember?"
Mycroft's lips make the ghost of a smile that vanishes almost before she sees it. "I remember," he says brushing his lips across her forehead and kissing her distractedly. "I just came home to shower and change my clothes. I'll be going straight back to work." He tightens his hug, and then releases her before leaving the room. Maddy lay back down on the bunk.
For seven days, she lives in the basement in Sherlock's room. She goes upstairs to cook and eat in the kitchen, working on technique with Mrs. Jones. The security detail changes everyday making it difficult to plan the amount of food to make. They come into the kitchen surrounded by the mutter of walky-talky chatter and leave suddenly in a group without ever saying why.
Katy is flustered by all the fuss. "Do you know that they searched my bag when I came in today?" she says. "This is getting out of hand."
"Don't worry," Mrs Jones says calmly. "These alerts never last that long. Before you know it Mr. Mycroft will have found those responsible and everything will be back to normal."
The phone rings and Mrs. Winslow comes in from her office. "Mr. Holmes is coming home for tea," she announces.
Maddy runs out of the kitchen and stands in the hallway waiting until the door finally opens. Mycroft looks tired. He walks in nodding at her as he trudges past toward his room. Maddy sits on his bed and waits while he showers. He comes out and dresses in the navy suit that he reserves strictly for home use.
"You are not going out again?" Maddy asks.
"Not for some time, no," Mycroft says. "We have him, but things are never as easy as showing the facts, even if they are irrefutable."
"What do you mean?"
"We have proven that it was indeed Subramanian who was responsible for the bombing of the homeless shelter, but he is too well-connected. He will not be tried by an English court. Since those wronged were mostly of no consequence, there is not much demand for justice."
"I'm sorry Mycroft. I know this meant so much to you."
Mycroft sits beside her on the bed. "I would think that it would mean something to you as well," he says. "Your friend, and possibly others that you know, were murdered. Don't you want revenge?"
"What's the point in revenge? It never brings anyone back from the dead."
"But it can keep those responsible from threatening the living," he replies stroking her face with his hand. "Subramanian is a persistent man with a long memory. How am I to keep you safe, my treasure. Shall I lock you up in a pumpkin shell like Peter?"
Maddy recites the poem:
"Peter, Peter pumpkin eater,
had a wife and couldn't keep her,
put her in a pumpkin shell,
and there he kept her very well.
"That doesn't sound very good, Mycroft. I don't want to be kept a prisoner. I want freedom."
"Security is better," Mycroft says kissing the side of her neck. He pushes Maddy down onto the bed pinning her wrists so that she can't get away. "I may hold you here, but in exchange I will give you everything." He lowers his face to hers, his nose stroking the side of her cheek. "Do you want your freedom now?" Maddy feels Mycroft's coat buttons pressing against her abdomen. His breath is warm against her cheek. It speeds up, chest filling and falling ever more rapidly. His lips brush hers lightly, then harder as he becomes filled with desire. His fingers curl around her wrists. She closes her eyes and sighs. "I tried to protect Sherlock and failed dismally. I won't fail with you, Madeline."
Mycroft's nose and lips gently caress the side of her neck, and Maddy considers. What if he does keep her? What if Mycroft Holmes locks her up like a fish in a tank. It wouldn't be very much different than her life is now. So what if she never goes out alone. Does that really matter? When Maddy was on the streets, she was truly free: free to fail, free to starve, free to die. Was that life so much better?
"Mycroft, let me go."
Mycroft stops, lifting his face up to look at her, before rolling off of her and sitting up. He leans against the post of the canopy bed. "Madeline," he says. "I don't know what I would do if you were hurt."
"Don't worry, Mycroft. Until this thing with Subramanian is resolved, I will go or stay as you tell me. Let's eat lunch now. We made Baba ghanoush. One of the security guards is from Jordan." That entire evening, the two of them stay no more than an arms length apart from each other.
They fall into the old routine again. Waking in his bed each morning and saying goodbye at the door. Maddy stays at home, but she continues cooking. On Thursday, they have a party because she has finally finished her apprenticeship hours, and she has officially been admitted into the cooking school. Maddy hopes that the crisis will be over before the new term begins.
As she goes to her room to dress for dinner, Mycroft calls. "Subramanian is being deported tonight. I will go personally to see that he gets on the boat."
"Take me with you," Maddy says, "I need to see this too."
.
The sound of a horn blares in the cold evening as Subramanian's boat prepares to sail. Mycroft and Maddy stand side by side arms touching through their thick black coats as they watch.
A car pulls up, and he disembarks, the man with the face like a barracuda. He walks past them turning to have a last talk with Mycroft. "So, you have won this round, but I have learned something as well. I have learned the soft spot of Mycroft Holmes. Do not think that I will ever forget it. And you, Maddy," he says the word with a leer. "I look forward to seeing you again." He looks her up and down and smiles that smile that shows the points of his teeth before turning away.
Mycroft is standing very still in the way that he does when great calculations are passing through his brain and he has no time to respond to his body. The boat sets sail. Subramanian leans against the railing looking back at them. Maddy can feel his eyes on her as it pulls away, his evil intent is as palpable as the evening fog, just beginning to form in wisps under the stern of the boat. A security man with a headset on leans over to Mycroft.
"Sir," he says. "He is in position and we have a clear shot. What is your order?"
Mycroft narrows his eyes. If possible, he stands even more still, then he says, "Do it."
A sound rings out, and Subramanian falls back onto the boat which continues to sail away. Maddy steps forward starring as people crowd around the body. She looks up just catching some movement in the building behind her, then she faces Mycroft. The edge of one lip is turned up in a smile. He glances down at her, but she turns away from him, and staggers with shuddering steps back to the car.