Danielle woke up with two things on her mind.
One: she had a monster headache.
Two: where the bloody fuck was her dog.
She fought against the fog in her head. Trying to remember things, any things that could help her answer those questions.
She remembered walking Erika. Remembered making snacks for John and Sarah. Remembered that she had- she had gotten a text from John. Something about the code...and having solved it, thanks to Soo Lin.
The smugglers.
Danielle looked around the space she was in. She reckoned she was underground, from all the dirt and how it all looked like a giant tunnel. Her hands were tied together by the wrist, her body tied to the chair itself. There was a gag in her mouth- tasted like fabric. Maybe silk? It was softer than a blindfold.
She looked to her side. John was in a chair much like her's, only he had no gag in his mouth. There was blood on the side of his face- like he'd been hit.
Danielle remembered more now. She had Erika with her, when somebody had pointed a gun at her back. She had watched silently as they stuck a note under Erika's collar, then kicked one when they treated Erika's neck too harshly when planting it. They had whacked her head with something.
Funny- she had thought that was sweat on her shoulder.
A few feet ahead, Danielle saw three shadowy figures. Two were clearly goons, or henchmen whatever term they preferred. The figure in the middle was a woman, made to look more foreboding by the firelight. Danielle could almost recognize the face, if not for the sunglasses the woman was wearing.
But her head- it hurt. A lot. She- she didn't like this. She wanted to be let out. She couldn't make such a request, not just from the gag blocking her. Kidnappers rarely took their captive's suggestions.
John stirred in his chair.
Danielle sat up, struggling again in her seat. She tried calling out for John. Her words were mumbled, and all it did was get spit soaking her gag.
The older Chinese woman raised a gun towards her. Danielle shut herself up, stilled at the threat.
John groaned as he woke up. He seemed as out of it as Danielle felt.
"'A book is like a magic garden carried in your pocket.'" The woman recited.
John turned his head. His eyes caught Danielle. It took him a moment for that to register, but when it did he looked worried.
Danielle couldn't even say anything to him. She could only watch- helpless.
The woman walked closer to John. She raised her sunglasses and that's when Danielle recognized her. She had been the opera singer at the circus!
"Chinese proverb, Mr Holmes." The woman told John.
Danielle blinked- confused and not just from the past few moments of her memory.
"I...I'm not Sherlock Holmes." John told the woman.
The woman didn't accept this correction. She smiled thinly- not amused. "Forgive me if I do not take your word for it."
Yeah, that's fair. Anyone would deny being themselves if tied to a chair by smugglers.
The woman reached into John's jacket pocket. John complained in pain at this- the jostling not helping his bonds nor his head injury. She pulled out his wallet, then a smaller object from inside that wallet. "Debit card, name of S. Holmes."
Danielle wondered why they didn't check the ID. Just, just went straight for the card. Seemed just- just too convenient. And also really bad for John's case.
Also- if they wanted Sherlock, why take Danielle too? It didn't make any sense to the landlady.
"Yes; that's not actually mine. He lent that to me." John explained.
"A cheque for five thousand pounds made out in the name of Mr Sherlock Holmes." The woman recited, pulling out the very check.
"Yeah, he gave me that to look after." John explained.
A small lie, as Sherlock hadn't said that. It could be assumed, though, that it was the case. Danielle could understand it if Sherlock trusted it to John because Sherlock might test the ink or the check or something along those lines.
"Tickets from the theatre, collected by you, name of Holmes." The woman listed on.
"Yes, okay- I realize what this looks like, but I'm not him." John insisted.
"We heard it from your own mouth." The woman explained.
John blinked. Danielle did too. "What?"
"'I am Sherlock Holmes and I always work alone because no-one else can compete with my massive intellect.'" She recited.
Danielle winced. She remembered that. Sherlock's throat had been so sore after, which was weird as he hadn't done any shouting- bloody hell did these blokes do it?! Oh Danielle was gonna smack them! Or- or something! They were lucky she was tied up, or else- or else they'd be sorry! Yeah...yeah they would be.
"Did I really say that?" John asked. He chuckled, recalling the event, before wincing in what looked like pain. "I s'ppose there's no use me trying to persuade you I was doing an impression."
The woman raised a gun.
Danielle couldn't hold back her yelp of fear.
John flinched from the gun.
The woman grinned. "I am Shan."
John and Danielle paused in their panic. Instead, they gawked at Shan.
"You're...you're Shan." John spoke for them both.
"Three times we tried to kill you and your companions, Mr Holmes." Shan told him. "What does it tell you when an assassin cannot shoot straight?"
She pointed the gun at John's face. She cocked the pistol. Danielle whimpered, trying to plead for John's life. John struggled in his bonds, trying to escape so that he wouldn't get shot. When it was clear escape wasn't an option, John turned his head to avoid being shot in the face.
Shan pulled the trigger.
Danielle yelped.
Nothing happened.
The gun had been empty.
She sagged back in her chair, relieved.
"It tells you that they're not really trying." Shan told them.
John let out a heavy sigh, relieved too.
==NKMHLY==
Across town, Sherlock grabbed a map of London. There were many tramways, yes, but he was looking for a specific one and his brain was too set in panic to think properly.
"Are you sure you don't need help?" Sarah asked.
"No, it's all under control. I've just found it." Sherlock pointed to a spot on the map. He grabbed Erika's leash. "Come on, Erika, how strong's your nose?"
Erika said nothing.
Not that anyone was expecting her to speak- she was only a dog.
But if she could speak, one might suspect she would say something incredible sweet about wanting to find Danielle.
This isn't that kind of place, with talking dogs, so nobody heard anything.
==NKMHLY==
Shan loaded the gun.
This did nothing to help Danielle's sense of panic.
Shan aimed it again at John's head. "Not blank bullets now."
John let out a shaking breath. "Okay."
"If we wanted to kill you, Mr Holmes, we would have done it by now. We just wanted to make you inquisitive." Shan told him. Which, yeah, okay, great thing to say when holding someone at gunpoint. 'Oh we're not planning to kill you, just wanted you to ask questions! Haha, aren't we such kidders?' "Do you have it?"
"Do I have what?" John asked.
"The treasure." Shan explained.
"I don't know what you're talking about." John replied, lost.
"I would prefer to make certain." Shan told him. She turned to her men.
They pulled back a tarp covered object. Danielle had actually thought it was just part of the tunnel- but now realized they had brought it from home. Just cause that device was familiar to her. And now, she could spot the sandbag dangling from above.
"Classic Chinese escapology act." Sherlock commented. Danielle turned to him. He went on to explain the trick in real time detail.
Danielle realized in a rush why she had been dragged along too.
John seems to realize this too. At the same time, in fact.
"Everything in the West has its price; and the price for her life-" Shan told them. Danielle whimpered, trying to escape the ropes again. "-information."
Fuck-fuck-I'm bloody fucked-
The two men walked over to her chair. They lifted Danielle up. She tried squirming free, only the rope held her body too tightly to the chair. She tried to kick- only they had been tied to the chair too.
The goons lowered Danielle on the other side of the giant crossbow. She could see the arrow- the one she had used to hit a ninja three times- aimed to fire.
'Dammit- the one time I do something cool and it comes back to bite me in the arse.' Danielle thought to herself. She resumed her struggling after that.
"Sorry. I'm sorry." John apologized, sounding in agony.
Danielle shook her head. This wasn't his fault- not one bit. It was their's. These smugglers. They'd killed two of their own workers, and killed Soo Lin, and now they were going to kill her.
Yes she was crying now.
What of it?
She was going to die- she was allowed a cry.
Shan continued interrogating John. "Where's the hairpin?"
John struggled anew in his ropes. He had a face like a hardened soldier. The same expression from when he shot Hope. It was a serious expression of a man who was not to be trifled with. "What?"
"The Empress pin valued at nine million sterling." Shan explained. "We already had a buyer in the West; and then one of our people was greedy. He took it, brought it back to London and you, Mr Holmes, have been searching."
Danielle sagged in her ropes. She had no chance of escape. The ropes were too tight. If she even could manage to get them undone, she guessed the two goons at her side would hold her up.
She was going to die.
"Please. Please, listen to me. I'm not- I'm not Sherlock Holmes." John insisted. He narrowed his eyes at Shan. "You have to believe me. I haven't found whatever it is you're looking for."
"I need a volunteer from the audience!" Shan called out.
"No, please. Please." John shook his head, pleading again.
"Ah, thank you, lady. Yes, you'll do very nicely." Shan cheered falsey, smiling like a shark at Danielle.
Danielle mumbled through her gag, shaking her head. She had not volunteered nor did she want to ever. She had a panic attack watching this trick, she didn't want to live through it!
Well...technically she wasn't.
Shan took out a long knife. The same she had used for the show. She stabbed into a sandbag.
Danielle shrieked into the gag.
John looked up at the leaking bag, terror in his eyes and a hopelessness.
==NKMHLY==
Erika whined again.
Sherlock patted her on the head, brushing down on her fur. It had been only mildly difficult to get a taxi- apparently calling it police business (and another one of Lestrade's stolen police badges) worked wonders for that sort of thing. "There, there. We'll find her." He assured the dog. He looked out the window, checking the street signs. "We'll find both of them."
==NKMHLY==
"Ladies and gentlemen. From the distant moonlit shores of NW1, we present for your pleasure Sherlock Holmes' pretty companion in a death-defying act." Shan announced, boasting and bragging and just being all around not nice.
"Please!" John begged.
Danielle shifted in her chair as Shan walked closer to her. The General lowered a black origami lotus in her lap. Danielle hiccuped on another sob.
"You've seen the act before. How dull for you. You know how it ends." Shan warned them both.
"I'm not Sherlock Holmes!" John yelled, panicking.
The sandbag was going higher and higher.
"I don't believe you." Shan replied easily.
"You should, you know."
Danielle shrieked- relieved and enraged and just so many emotions right now. It had taken him long enough!
"Sherlock Holmes is nothing at all like him." Sherlock explained.
Shan turned to somewhere behind Danielle. She raised her pistol, cocking it.
One of the goons at Danielle's side went off to look. Danielle struggled anew- filled with a second wind.
"How would you describe me, John? Resourceful? Dynamic? Enigmatic?" Sherlock asked.
"Late?" John snarked.
'A goddamn showoff!' Danielle shouted. Well she shouted it in the gag, but that was gibberish.
"That's a semi-automatic. If you fire it, the bullet will travel at over a thousand metres per second." Sherlock noted.
'Oh yes- take the time to criticize her choice of gun! How about her choice of arrow?! How about you work on that!'
"Well?" Shan asked.
"Well-" There was the sound of a thud. Danielle yelped- thinking the goon had hit Sherlock. She was relieved when a moment later he continued. "-the radius curvature of these walls is nearly four metres. If you miss, the bullet will ricochet. Could hit anyone. Might even bounce off the tunnel and hit you."
Sherlock rushed up. He kicked the on fire barrel not far behind Danielle. She yelped as it got just that little bit darker. There were still flames behind John, so she could almost make out John's face.
Something was messing with the ropes on her back. Danielle held still- not daring to even make a sound. She didn't want him to get-
And he was caught.
The other goon had trapped Sherlock. Danielle glanced back, trying to tilt her head to see. She realized in a cold rush of horror that it was him- Zhi Zhu. He had a red scarf in his hands, wrapping it around Sherlock's throat. The detective gagged, again and again. Danielle would later realize that this must be what had happened at Soo Lin's apartment. But right then she had more pressing concerns.
The sandbag was on level with the metal ball.
John and Danielle both came to the conclusion that Sherlock was not going to get out of his fight in time to save Danielle. So instead, they both tried methods of escape. John tried standing up, stuck by his bound hands and feet. Danielle tried rocking her chair back and forth, which did nothing. John tries again, half balancing the chair on his back as he stumbles forward. He falls over though, just before the crossbow.
Danielle tries again, hoping for the same results in her chair. It's a fruitless endeavor. All it does is shift her more to the side. So, if the arrow were to loose, it would hit Danielle's side.
And worse yet, she realized that if she fell, then the arrow would hit Sherlock. Despite the fight, Zhi Zhu had kept Sherlock directly behind Danielle's chair.
So a lose-lose in any case.
John was hoping in the sand, scoring his chair forward to try and reach the crossbow.
Danielle can't even get herself to close her eyes, seconds before the metal ball drops. She is forced to watch in cold horror as the arrow is nearly let loose at her.
Until John kicks the crossbow, tilting it to the side.
The arrow is let loose less than a second later.
Danielle hears it fly past. She hears the tearing off cloth. Then, nothing but blood roaring in her ears as she realizes in a rush that she's still got blood in there.
She hears heavy breathing behind her. There's a thud. Danielle tries not to pay any mind to the thought that it's Sherlock that fell.
But then someone is speaking, and it's not Zhi Zhu.
"It's all right." Sherlock assured Danielle in a soothing voice. Sherlock untied the gag from her mouth, letting it fall to the floor.
"That was not safe, sane, or consensual and I would like to never do it again!" Danielle shouted immediately, because she had nearly died yet this felt like the best thing to say first. She distinctly did not like gags or all this rope- god she wondered what Felix would say if he found out.
"You're gonna be alright. It's over now. It's over." Sherlock continued to assure her. Fuck, his voice was like the orange shock blanket but better.
Danielle sniffled, wanting to wipe at her tear soaked cheeks but the ropes were still over her wrists. Sherlock got to work untying those too.
John smiled up at her from the ground. Danielle felt herself smiling back. "So, clearly I can't even handle ten minutes."
That got Danielle started on a mad sort of laughter. The kind of laughter that meant she was still alive, and wasn't that grand?
==NKMHLY==
They had walked outside. Sherlock had led the way, explaining to John and Danielle just how he had found them. A normal person might say something about timing, but Danielle was just happy that all of them had made it out.
Or she had been, until she saw what was waiting outside the tramway tunnel.
"You brought my bloody dog?!" Danielle scolded. She pulled away from Sherlock's assuring embrace to reach her dog.
The excited canine rushed to her owner, licking at anything she could reach. Her leash was tied around a nearby bit of pipe, keeping the dog from getting too far.
Danielle hugged the dog to her, letting Erika lick as she liked. "Why?! She could've been hurt!"
Sherlock only tilted his head. "She had gone straight home. I couldn't have just left her there. You don't like it when I break into your flat."
"I would've understood it this one time!" Danielle replied.
John just stood back, watching them bicker. Even he had to admit, he was relieved to see Danielle was okay. If she was yelling and shrieking, it meant she was still alive. That what happened back there hadn't shaken her like watching Soo Lin die had.
"She wanted to come." Sherlock excused.
"Oh, you speak dog now? You take requests but only if they're from dogs?"
"She wanted to know you were alright." Sherlock stated. Danielle hesitated, trying to come up with a response to that. "She had watched you be taken. Any dog would want to know their owner was alright. She followed me into a taxi, then to this tunnel. I knew you wouldn't want her inside- as you said, she could've been hurt. So I connected her leash so she would stay."
Danielle had nothing to say to that. She stared at Sherlock, something working out in the back of her mind that she was in no way ready to unpack.
"Thank you." She managed to reply, her voice suddenly soft. "I-" She went to untie Erika's leash, hesitating only slightly as her brain tried to connect her back to her own previously tied up state. "I'm-" Her eyes watered again. "I think I actually needed- needed to see-"
She let out a shuddering breath. Erika licked at her face. Danielle only hugged the dog again.
Someone knelt at her back, rubbing a soothing hand up and down. She let out a weak sob. "I know." Sherlock assured. "It's alright."
She abruptly pulled away from Erika. Instead, she threw her arms around Sherlock, sobbing onto his coat's shoulder.
The detective- to his credit- was only throw by this for a moment. He continued telling her assurances while slipping John his phone. He brushed his hands on her back- mindful of how Erika was rubbing her nose on Danielle's arm- while John phoned the police.
And Sherlock continued to do this until the coppers showed up, complete with an ambulance for their injuries.
Sherlock released her into the care of John who released her into the care of on duty medical professionals. Because apparently having a head injury could impair your skills as a doctor, as John scolded Sherlock as Danielle was getting her wound patched.
She got another shock blanket out of the whole deal. Which was good, considering she was going through a lot of shocks tonight.
And they walked back into London, Danielle with Erika on a leash, and John's arm on her shoulder but Sherlock's voice at her back instructing Detective Dimmock.
Danielle should've been- probably still was- in shock. She should've been breaking down, sobbing and crying and making a huge fuss. But with Erika and Sherlock and John, how could she be anything less than content?
==NKMHLY==
AN: So this is the night- it's a tragic but beautiful night- and I call it 'a slow burn'.
Thanks to pbh28icloud . com for following! (If I don't spell it like that, it won't let it show on the site)