Gender Swap

„Full of doubt I stand/ whether I should repent me now of sin/ by me done and occasioned, or rejoice/ much more, that much more good thereof shall spring."

Paradise Lost

I am still unsure what really happened. I suppose Holmes must have dragged me with him, for with my terror of heights, it does not seem plausible that I would have plunged myself into the depth of my own volition. Be that as it may, when I came to, it was too late for every precaution - hand in hand, we rushed toward the earth, following the command of gravity.

My eyes closed, expecting to hit the ground any moment. And so I did, albeit in a different way from what I had imagined. A soft, malleable matter parted beneath the soles of my feet to absorb me wholly. Water! Unlike Holmes, I had forgotten about the moat encompassing the building. Splashing and puffing, I struggled to the surface, almost insensible with the cold. However, before I was done enjoying a lungful of air, I was forced back beneath the surface, and instantly, I heard the sharp whirr of bullets even through the five inches of water above my head.

My hand was still in his firm grasp, and he still dragged me along. I tried to move my legs, be of some assistance, but due to my skirts, it was barely feasible. Besides, I was running out of oxygen again. I tried to remove my hand, tried to shake him off, but in vain: he pulled me by the arm, onwards beneath the surface. I felt close to drifting out of my conscience when finally, the waters parted again above me head, and a mighty impulse heaved me up into the cold air.

The bank of the moat was muddy, and I could not get a proper foothold, flailing miserably. Luckily, Holmes had me, he helped me up the bank, half dragging, half carrying me. We stumbled across the misty lands, with the sound of the shooting still in our ear. They had no doubt tried to get at us from the broken window, but what with the dim morning light had been granted no success.

Holmes hurried me along, his arms still locked around my upper body. I tripped, and slithered on the ground in my soaked shoes, but he had me, unfailingly. It was only when we reached a strip of woodland that we heard the dogs. Their bark was far away, but drew nearer quickly. I started in a panic, unable to articulate my fear.

„Don't give up, Frances! You've seen the map, we have almost made it!"

My feet seemed to work the ground like drumsticks, fueled by the howls behind us, but again, I tripped over tree roots and would almost have fallen.

„Quick, quick!"

The strip of wood ended, and only a narrow grassy field separated us from a high fence made from laths. Throwing my head around, I could see the beasts emerging from beneath the trees - it may have been my fancy, but I recall them as huge black shadows, their glowing eyes the only recognizable features.

I ran.

Holmes had let go off my hand, and, being faster than me, had reached the fence first. He was halfway up when I got there, but as yet unable to give me a hand. I had to try it myself.

With both hands clambering at the laths, I tried to get my foot into the small interspace, so as to hoist my bulk, but it seemed almost too narrow. When I had finally made it, one of the dogs made a leap at me. I was too far up for him, but my skirt, soaked with water and trailing heavily beneath me, was caught between his teeth.

I shrieked, and nearly let go off the fence, when the mighty pull surprised me. At this moment, a hand appeared within my field of vision, and I grasped it, squeezing my eyes shut. There was a strong draw at both ends of me - it took only moments, but those felt like an eternity. It was the tearing sound of my skirt's seam coming off that gave me a fresh impulse. Holding on to the hand for dear life, I pushed myself up with all my strength and somehow managed to climb over the spiky tips of the laths unscathed.

On the other side, I slid to the ground listlessly. My descent was somewhat softened by a pair of arms that waited to aid me. The dogs vociferated behind the fence, making it wag precariously. We were not yet in safety.

„Come along!"

We had more or less dropped into the backyard of one of the villagers, and hurried to get off the property. The sun was rising in the east, and people began to stir - in the road, there was the cart of a milkman staidly rattling along.

„Make haste!" Holmes took me by the arm, and we dashed onto the lane, and after the trundling vehicle. The faster we got into town and among people, the faster we would be safe from open persecution.

„Stop! Stop!"

„Mon Dieu!"

The sleepy milkman opened his eyes wide at the sight of us: drenched with the foul waters of the moat as we were, it must have been a sight indeed! But his expression softened considerably when he beheld money in our hands, and after a moment of far-fetched explanations on our part, he agreed to give us a lift into town.

oooOOOooo

At our hotel we learned that Watson had ordered an ambulance bound for Dieppe, the closest place with a well-equipped hospital. His first instinct, as a doctor, had been to afford his patient the best available medical care, not to get help for his friends in danger. I didn't resent his decision, and as far as I can tell, neither did Holmes.

We allowed ourselves time to wash, change our dress and pack a few necessities. In picking a cab to bring us to the train station, Holmes exercised some extra care, letting two that offered themselves pass us by. Everything went smooth enough, until, looking out of the window, Holmes uttered a swear between his teeth.

„Sacré!"

The entire train station had been engirt with a cordon of police. Mycroft's men must have alerted them. With a sudden stricture of my throat, I became aware that I was liable for what the officials might interpret as manslaughter in two cases, though I had acted in self-defence. My shock at the realization must have been written on my face, for Holmes tutted disapprovingly.

„There now, Frances, you mustn't loose heart. They have barred their train stations and ports against us - fine, we don't need them. There is a safe enough haven for us in this country: The British embassy in Paris!"

„But `ow can we possibly get there?" I dug my hand into my hair in despair. „We need some means o` transportaition!"

„Leave it to me."

He narrowed his eyes at what could be seen of the police block from the cab window. In less than a minute, our driver would drop us off as arranged beforehand, and we would be exposed to their eyes.

„They expect a middle-aged man and a young woman…let's see what can be done on the quick. Frances, you wouldn't object to a change in gender, would you? No worries, it is but a temporary alteration."

„Uhm…I beg yer Pardon?" I looked at him, baffled.

oooOOOooo

Exactly one minute afterwards, an elderly woman and a young fellow emerged from a cab in the busy throng in front of the train station and continued on foot hurriedly. It was the clumsiest ruse, improvised just to get us safely through the most imminent danger: Holmes, wrapped in a horse rug and with my hat on his head, resting on his cane as if on a much-needed walking stick, talked to me incessantly in a brittle old voice that resembled a piece of chalk on a blackboard.

As for myself, I had donned his overcoat that on my person was long enough to conceal every inch of skirt. His hat, equally oversized, was nonetheless necessary to hide away my hair, and a cheap pair of glasses, conveniently forgotten in the cab by some passenger, completed the scare crow outfit. We kept our faces down, and Holmes' incessant prattle served as an effective deterrent against anyone who might have thought of addressing us.

Still, it seemed a miracle that we got down the street without attracting police attention. Around the corner from the station, there was a small square that served as a parking lot for vehicles meant to transport travelers between the station and the hotels. Here, Holmes stopped.

„Let us see…no, that will hardly do." Absent minded, he handed me back my hat, running to and fro between the carts, coaches and hansom cabs.

„Mr. `olmes!" I cast a look around nervously. „Ye're not finking of…?"

He stopped in his steps, turning his head back at me and smiling. „Cold feet, Frances? I shouldn't have thought that adding such a trifling crime as stealing a set of wheels to everything else would disturb you."

I hissed angrily. This was not a matter to joke about! We were indeed being persecuted like criminals and faced discovery any moment now. How could he be so nonchalant about the fact that his brother was dead by our - by my hand?

Anyway, it would not do to reproach him now. We needed to get away, and if this was the only possibility, then so be it. He had, meanwhile, had his pick: The only vehicle in the lot that did not require horses, a Peugeot tricycle fueled with gasoline!

I clapped my hands to my cheeks when he climbed the machine and tried to start it. I could not believe we were going to steal an automobile! Even if he would manage to get it running, it was the worst thinkable option for getting us to Paris. It did not have a cover, which in the wintry weather was bad enough, but it was also dependent on fuel and we could not know how much had been filled into the tank.

Also, it was conspicuous as hell.

The first roaring sound of the wakening engine startled me horribly, and the ensuing rattling and crackling did nothing to reassure me. Who could know whether such an infernal machine might not suddenly explode, and reduce us to ashes?

Holmes clearly had no such qualms. He waved his hand at me impatiently. „What now? Don't you want to get on?"

With great hesitation and the worst misgivings, I approached the hissing, chattering contraption. „D`ye even know `ow ter handle this monster?"

„Not really", he replied serenely. „But I have a good theoretical understanding of how the machine works, and it is never too late to learn new things. Now, if you please?"

With resignation, I took his proffered hand and let him help me onto the huffing vehicle. There was a little hitch when we started, and I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply to regain my calm. With no less than three minor collisions with the parked cabs, Holmes finally succeeded in steering us out of the lot and into the open street. I kept my hands firmly clapped together, and prayed like I had not prayed in years.

oooOOOooo

Strange enough, we left the town behind us without being stopped, or causing a terrible accident. However, I was glad for the horse rug we had purloined from our cabby, for it was as cold on the country roads as expected. We moved closer together, and watched the surprised gazes of the odd peasant, standing by the road side to look on until we had disappeared on the horizon.

„Ye knows the value of such an apparatus, I s`ppose, Mr. `olmes?" I enquired with my eyebrows raised. „If ye should wreck it, it would probably mean bankruptcy and a loifetime o` debt to both o` us!"

„Why no, it is not as bad as that. Besides, I could always charge it on the bill of my employer, the French Government", he replied lightly.

„I am not sure ya could claim ter be actin' on their behalf still", I gave to consider. „This has been a private undertaking essentially, and I doubt they will approve of it when they get ter know the facts."

„Private? In what way? I have performed the given task, have I not? They wished me to locate Madame Zhao, and recover the Orb. The first is at present in a hospital in Dieppe, under the good care of Dr. Watson. The latter…"

And he reached into his breast pocket, retrieving the sparkling gem. I frowned.

„But `ow…? Mycroft took it from you!" Then it dawned upon me: He must have taken it back from his brother when he was on the floor beneath him, maybe even after I had shot him. I will admit this presence of mind, not to say sangfroid, somewhat appalled me.

He must have realized my discomfort, for he gave me one of those quick glances from the side that said so much more than words. „We must not beat about the bush, Fanny. Brother or no, I am glad about his death, I will not pretend otherwise."

I shook my head. „It seems inhuman."

„If this is how you feel about it, you should not have agreed to be a part of this enterprise in the first place. His destruction was our object, or had you forgotten? Killing someone may not be the most elegant way to destroy him, but at least it is fairly final. So don't reproach me with a lack of feeling, I beg you. Would you rather I had burst into tears at his annihilation?"

„No…" I admitted slowly. „O` course not. I am glad - relieved - ye do not hate me for what I was forced ter do."

„Hate you! You amuse me." He shook his head, looking straight ahead of us onto the road. „I do not hate you; if anything, I resent what you did because it deprived me of the chance to do it myself."

„Then ye would of done it yerseln?"

„I was about to do so when you got in between."

I shrugged. „What does it matter who actually killed him. We were fairly close to becoming `is victims, rather than the other way around. That `e is dead is all that counts fer me now."

„It does matter to me", he calmly said. „Revenge would have been my due: He killed my wife."

„And he killed my aunt." I looked at him, almost angry. „Certainly, I had the same right to desire vengeance. You keep forgetting it, but I loved her, too!"

He faced my glare, just to turn back and continue looking out on the road. „You're right. I had forgotten."

And we rattled on in silence, both of us looking ahead always, never so much as turning our heads.

Dear readers,

Ha Ha! I had fun imagining how Holmes and Fanny nick a car. Besides, at the time, it would not have been terribly fast, but able to keep a constant tempo compared to a carriage, the horses of which would tire after a while. So, not a bad choice at all!

I'd like to give the season's greetings to you and hope will be having a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Love, Mrs. F