Chapter 37 Run Rabbit Run
Joss ran. She just took to her heels and ran, she didn't want to think, she didn't want to talk to anyone, and she didn't want to feel. She wasn't crying again damn it, she was running. If she thought about her father's betrayal it would destroy her, because it would mean that Sherlock knew too. No thinking, no thinking, no thinking, just the steady pound of her feet on the concrete pavement. She had forgotten her coat, but she wasn't even shivering in the cold autumn air. She refused to look at the vehicles passing her, she didn't want to see or acknowledge any black cars, and she didn't want to see Uncle Mycroft or one of his minions. She just didn't want to see any of them. She didn't want to be reasoned with, she didn't want to be persuaded, she didn't want any pathetic justification, she just wanted to run and not ever stop.
She got as far as half a mile from Baker Street, dodging the late night shoppers, feet pounding the pavement, not realising how fast she was running because even though her body was moving forward, her mind, her thoughts, were stuck back in Baker street, listening to her father talk to his sister, his bloody sister, before the large suited figure stepped out in front of her. She skidded, barely stopping herself from landing on her arse, backpedalling like some idiot cartoon character and then in total panic, she tried to swerve out of his way, she tried to dodge him but he managed to anticipate every move she made as if he seen them all before and knew what she was going to do before she did.
Her heart beat and her mind were frantic, locked into flight mode. She wanted, no she needed to be away from everyone. She couldn't let him stop her. For the love of God she couldn't even throw a wobbly in peace without her Uncle's bloody hulking great guard dogs stopping her.
There was a stunned silence and then her human obstruction had the gall to laugh, to chuckle as if she amused him. Shit had she said that out loud? She stopped and stared at him in confused angry despair. Why couldn't they all just leave her alone?
When she finally figured out that she could run back the way she had come to get away from him, he had already taken hold of her hands and was pulling her inexorably towards him. He had lots of experience dealing with unwilling struggling captives after all.
"I haven't done anything wrong, let me go" she demanded angrily, she wouldn't cry, she wouldn't, and he had no bloody call to hang on to her like this. She had rights, she hadn't done anything wrong. He couldn't stop her like this.
He raised an eyebrow and frowned sympathetically down at the furious emotional youngster. Jesus did this kid ever catch a break? She was very near to tears, and shivering without being aware of it. He waited calmly for the dam to break, whilst he pulled her close enough to tuck her against his suit underneath his thick black overcoat, and block out the worst of the bitter wind that was whistling around them.
He had a driver waiting with the silver BMW for the pair of them to get in, but she would really freak out if he tried to get her into it right now.
Her body started to shake when it was out of the wind, and close enough to him to be warmed by his body heat. Her reaction was both physical and emotional.
"I won't go back there and you can't make me do it." There it was, the barely hidden sob in the angry tirade, it was starting. The shivering got worse.
"I don't want to.." she hiccupped her distress as she leant against him, "please Inspector don't take me back there", her face was muffled against his suit jacket but he could make out her words.
"It's alright love, we are just going for a nice cup of something hot, and to get you out of this cold, okay?"
She tried to pull away, angry distress in her voice when she hissed at him "I don't want to bloody talk about it, I don't need anyone's bloody advice and I just want you all to leave me alone"
Instinctively his large hand reached up to gently cup her face and pull her back towards his shoulder, tucking her away from the cold because the kid was cold and upset but those words were the proverbial last straw.
Gregory Lestrade was sodding knackered and totally pissed off, he'd had a long unsuccessful frustrating day at court, had watched one of the scumbags of London walk free despite all the evidence they had painstakingly gathered. He should have been drowning his sorrows at the pub with his team, instead of which yet another text from a Holmes boy had interrupted his day to try to solve their family problems involving this kid, which meant that he was out in the cold and dark trying to stop her from doing something stupid, probably triggered by someone else in that mad little family.
He was bloody irritated now and he Sherlock and John were going to have a long overdue informal little chat about the meaning of parental responsibility. If he had to use his old police issue truncheon as a demonstration aid well there had to be some perks to the distasteful job.
As for this lippy little madam, she was going to be given a few home truths as well. Much as he liked the kid, if he wanted to deal with teenage angst outside of office hours, (he had enough of that idiocy in office hours to contend with when Donovan and Anderson got together) he had his own nearly teenage boys to be as weak as warm butter over, and right now unfortunately for her, his not unlimited store of patience had already been nearly drained by the day he had already had to endure, she was not going to be getting the same coddling she normally received from the Holmes contingent. Damn the boys from Baker street, he could be sinking his first pint of the good stuff right now.
"I don't want to talk about it either Sweetheart, that's all I am offering is a cup of hot chocolate in a warm place, we are not going to have a heart to heart, you can sort that out with your father, and or Sherlock in any combination thereof you want, but you know very well that you are not supposed to be out of the flat alone until we have caught Moran don't you?" and the kind patient voice had become irritated, stern and scolding.
She stiffened against him but didn't look up at his face. "Jocelyn?" he prompted relentlessly, and suddenly she was back in the interview room with six feet of scary policeman focused solely on how angry she had made him by interrupting his important work. Being subjected to his no nonsense irritated Detective Inspector voice was not something she wanted to happen again. The first time he had scared her spit less, she did not need to see the same expression right now, when she could barely cope with her own see-sawing emotions. She gulped.
"Please Mr Lestrade, I am sorry, I didn't think about that, I was upset when I ran out" she whispered. She really didn't want a repeat performance of their first meeting and it might make her a big coward but she still couldn't raise her head to look him in the eye when he had that tone of voice. He was just downright scary when he was mad.
She felt the tension drain from his shoulders at her apology and breathed a sigh of relief herself.
Suddenly she was so tired, she ached all over, first there had been the pain of watching her mother, watching happier times and hearing her mother' voice and it had hurt like someone had raked a spikey wire brush over her heart, but Sherlock had made it bearable and even allowed her to smile with remembered happiness, then more memories, painful, vicious scary memories resurrected by someone she had thought she would never see or hear again and now it seemed likely that she would never be rid of because she was her bloody Aunt. Her Dad knew what that evil old hag had done and betrayal burned through her veins like acid.
She had tried so hard to forget that her mother had been afraid of him, she had even begged Sherlock earlier in the evening for reassurance that she was doing the right thing in discarding her own mother's fears and in trusting her father. How could she have been so wrong? How could she have let her mother down so easily just so that she could have the chance of being part of a family again? She was so ashamed of herself for trusting any of them.
She closed her eyes with her face still buried against his shoulder, taking in his oddly comforting scent. She just wanted to stop thinking, just for a little while, thinking hurt and she didn't want to hurt any more.
"Come on Joss, let's go get that hot chocolate shall we?" Lestrade murmured softly as he began to direct her gently to the waiting unmarked police car.
Oddly enough, once she was inside the car, and out of the bitter wind, her shivering seemed to increase. Lestrade had taken his overcoat off and tucked it around her when she had gotten in the car, then sat beside her in the back, an arm holding her close to his side again.
"Ryan, get the heating on full" he ordered calmly as the driver pulled smoothly out into the rush hour traffic, after one warning flash of a blue light. Londoners weren't stupid, an unmarked police car at that time of night, too right they would be letting it weave its way through the almost traffic standstill, no-one with any sense wanted to be in front of a frustrated copper in a car which could barely move. God knew what kind of mischief the police would get up to behind them.
It always amused Lestrade just how law abiding and careful the capital's drivers became with a police car behind them.
Lestrade didn't need to tell his driver where their destination was, he had already informed him when he had received the first text message. Besides he didn't want to raise the subject with the kid, she was too upset and not in any mood for family.
Joss fell into a light dose once the car had warmed up, curled carefully up against the Inspector. She knew this wasn't going to end well for her tonight, worst case scenario having to go back and speak to her Dad while that evil hag was still there. But there were variations on the theme. She didn't know where she thought she had been going with no money, no warm clothes, and literally no bloody idea really. Stupid, she had been stupid. When she had reacted like a scared mouse, she honestly hadn't thought about that creep Moran and she knew the Inspector was totally serious about his earlier comments. Well at least she would get something warm to drink before he dragged her back to the flat. Perhaps she could just stay downstairs with Mrs Hudson. That would be best, she wasn't going to be running loose around London now the grumpy long arm of the law had stopped her in her tracks. It always surprised her how scary the Inspector could be when he had such a kind sweet face unlike Uncle Mycroft who's professionally scary face just covered his unfailing kindness to her.
She heaved a tired, miserable sigh, and the Inspector reacted with a comforting rub through her curls.
"It will work out love" he murmured consolingly. She didn't respond just decided to rest her eyes for a little while, in the peaceful safety and neutrality of the car. The barely audible low purr of the BMW engine also seemed to provide an odd kind of comfort. It definitely did not sound like one of Uncle Mycroft's horrible big black cars.
Joss startled awake when the car came to a full stop, a strong arm around her shoulders, her head resting against a solid chest. "Dad?" she grumbled softly before her brain was actually back in the land of the living and she bit her lip viciously hoping the policeman hadn't heard her. No such luck, "I can take you home to your Dad Joss?" that deep kind voice offered gently, but she shook her head stubbornly refusing to answer him verbally.
There was a pause as if he was waiting for her to say something else and she could feel his gaze on the top of her head, but she wasn't going to look at him. She thought she heard a sigh but she couldn't be sure, then his voice firmed up again and he told her "Come on then young lady, let's get inside and have that cup of something hot", and he slid open the passenger door. A chill ran through her body when the cold air hit the warmth of the car interior.
She followed him out rather more slowly, trying to retain what was left of the heat. But when she finally stood beside him her confusion made her forgot the temperature for a few moments.
Why had they pulled up at what looked like the tradesman's entrance to an enormous hotel?
Before she could open her mouth and ask, the Inspector tucked her against his side again and moved through the opened door. She was so fascinated by her surroundings that she missed the softly grumbled words "Of course it would be here wouldn't it you irritating posh git!" and when she raised her face to look at him, he just smiled tiredly at her and offered softly "Let's get you settled okay Love, oh just one thing, until we get to the room we are supposed to be in, you mustn't speak, you have to be quiet". His apologetic shrug was the only response to her disbelieving expression.
They both turned as a servant loomed silently up beside them and Joss nearly uttered a startled shriek but the frown she received from the uniformed man wearing carpet slippers made her tighten her lips and reach for Lestrade's hand like a little girl about to cross the road with a parent. He squeezed her hand tight enough for her to be grateful and she refused to let go of him as they followed the silent impassive servant into the depths of the building.
Joss wanted to ask if this wasn't all rather excessive for a cup of hot chocolate, as she tried to even keep her breathing quiet in the silent ominous passageways, but finally they were led into a small sitting room, with a large fireplace, the fire cheerfully crackling away, two sofas facing each other and a large comfy chair beside a table where a covered tray was resting.
The solemn faced servant suddenly smiled gently and said "Well done Miss. Not a sound, I wish some of my gentlemen were that conscientious about the rules. Now my name is Deacon and you and the Inspector just make yourselves comfy. I will make your hot chocolate with all the trimmings. Growing girl like you needs all the marshmallows, cream and chocolate flakes in a proper hot chocolate she can get doesn't she?" He rambled gently whilst moving with smooth efficiency about the room.
"Now if you want to take the big chair by the table Miss, I will serve you your supper too" and not waiting for an answer he ushered her into the big chair, took the cover off the tray and Joss was staring down in disbelief at beans on toast with grated cheese and a dash of Worcester sauce. She inhaled the comforting aroma and her tummy rumbled. "There now, you tuck right in and I will bring you and the Inspector your hot chocolate" Deacon smiled indulgently and moved off as soon as she had picked up her knife and fork.
Greg had flung himself down on one of the sofas with a tired sigh but he had been fascinated by the expressions on the kid's face. She looked longingly at the meal in front of her but raised her face to him again to get confirmation of something before attempting to eat.
"Uncle Mycroft" she murmured, not even expecting a denial. Greg smiled wryly at her, she was a smart kid, she'd been given Sherlock the runaround for months. This would not have caused her a problem as she knew her Uncle's MO as well.
Damn that beans on toast smelt so good, he wondered if he could convince her to share.
AN:
So 7 straight days in bed with influenza and that's all i craved was beans on toast with grated cheese and Worcester sauce. So I had to make sure my favourite girl had it too.
Just a little holding chapter cos If I was cold my Joss was cold and she deserves nice things. So her supper and hot chocolate in the Diogenes club courtesy of Uncle Mycroft and a disgruntled Inspector Greg. He's a no nonsense copper and a Dad and he is not going to take any teenage shit.
So hope you enjoy and when my brain has returned from the land of mush, I will push the plot forward xx