Cool, I'm actually on my THIRD chapter! No big deal, right? Wrongo! I have nearly passed out two times from stress recently, mostly from the ACT's coming up (I'm in eighth grade, people!) and the MEAPS. And Solo and Ensemble, and Festival, and a couple of extra gigs with the Quintet I play with. And, we got our report cards back today (straight A's, a B+ in math). Oh, and I'm working on two other stories at the same time (Outcast, an original story, and The Moon Wolf, a HP story [read 'em people!]).

Chapter Three: Rules of the Game

Christmas came and went for me and the gang. Needless to say, we were all quite pleased with the gifts we received.

Holmes had gotten an epee (a sword of some sort) from Christine, another Sherlock Holmes book from Kline (This time it was 'The Jewel of Covent Garden') and a bunch of junk that forensic scientists use to track down criminals from me (cost me a bundle!). I had been given a music book for flutes from Christine, a whole bunch of hair junk from Kline, and Holmes had gone with his classic standby- jewelry from a member of the family. This time it was a diamond bracelet. And before we knew, it was time for us to meet back at the theatre.

Christine sat next to me in the car, fiddling with the sapphire bracelet Kline had given her. She was staring out the window of the car, and seemed to be muttering fervent prayers under her breath. Kline and Holmes were arguing in the back.

"What, just because you might be the tiniest bit insulted, you can't get simple enjoyment out of these?!" Kline exclaimed, gesturing towards the books she had given Holmes. Holmes rolled his eyes.

"Kline, as much as I love to read all the blasphemy about my ancestor, I didn't think that actually participating in it would make me feel better," Holmes snapped back. Kline glared at him.

"Wuss. You're just going to be playing some songs. Yell at Christine, she will be blaspheming it even worse!" Kline shot at him. Christine whipped around.

"Excuse me? Cricket is hardly involved with Holmes. She is the street orphan who works with Elizabeth," Christine said somewhat calmly. I frowned from my spot in the car, concentrating on not running into the car in front of me.

"Who is Elizabeth?" I asked gamely. Christine smiled grimily.

"Oh, Holmes is going to love this. Her name is Elizabeth Adler, according to the little summary I have. Want me to read it?" asked Christine. Holmes sighed, but nodded from the back. He folded his arms and closed his eyes as Christine yanked it out from the CD case.

" 'Twilight falls in the great city of London. It is late fall 1887, and as the cold fingers of winter begin to tighten around the shrouded city, a chill is spreading through her gas lit streets (Prologue). The underworld is emerging from the shadows, emboldened by an unseen and omnipotent force. The people are living in terror- and the police are powerless to stop it (Lamplighter). As the song ends, Nigel Adler and two friends emerge from a pub. Nigel goes back to retrieve his hat, is approached by three men, and is suddenly and ferociously beaten and kidnapped. The next morning, Inspectors Gregson and Lestrade are at the scene of the kidnapping. They are, as always, at odds, forming competing theories of what happened (Something Here). Gregson feels the discarded hat will be of some importance, and decides to take it to Sherlock Holmes. Meantime, the henchman who led the kidnapping has reported back to his employer, Professor Moriarty- who has the man summarily executed to erase the trail, dismissing it as 'simply business' (Life is Hard). Gregson calls on Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson. Holmes is in a disputatious humor, and is ready for a fresh problem. As they discuss the particulars, Mrs. Hudson enters to announce a visitor for Holmes, who turns out to be the distraught sister of the missing Nigel- Elizabeth Adler. Holmes seems profoundly affected upon seeing her. When Elizabeth tells them that Nigel works for the Foreign Office, Holmes suspects deeper waters. After Elizabeth leaves, she stops in the street, equally shaken by her visit. Holmes comes to the window to watch her, and each reflects on the past between them (Nothing More). Elizabeth meets a young street orphan (Cricket), who knows Sherlock Holmes and his Baker Street Irregulars. Elizabeth befriends Cricket in her gentle way, and when Elizabeth leaves, Cricket wonders if she can trust her (But She's Nice). Watson presses Holmes for details about Elizabeth, and Holmes reluctantly reveals that she is the first and only woman he had considered spending his life with, but chose his calling over his heart years ago. Holmes expands on his theory about the kidnapping, and enlists the help of the BSI (To Be Like You). Meanwhile, Moriarty has had Elizabeth followed, and relishes the thought of confronting his mortal enemy (Revelation). Holmes has instructed Watson to bring Elizabeth to the scene of the crime. As they walk, Watson and Elizabeth reflect on their individual perspectives of Holmes (Extraordinary Man). Once at the scene, Holmes brilliantly collapses Lestrade's theory and offers his own. As the policemen head off, Watson suggests that he, Holmes, and Elizabeth have dinner. Holmes has no time for them, and departs brusquely. Elizabeth faces the reality that there is nothing left between the (Extraordinary Man Reprise). Back at Baker Street, Holmes wonders why he cannot allow himself to have feelings even once (Once in My Life). Later that night, Cricket finds Nigel at the waterfront, injured but alive. Holmes finds bruises upon his arms, and a needle mark. He asks Watson to draw blood so he can test it. After a sleepless night at his chemicals, Holmes awakens Watson and explains his theory: Moriarty is kidnapping government employees, extracting blackmailable secrets, and injecting them with a serum that erases their memory of the experience. Holmes tells Watson to learn everything he can about foreign policy. When Watson asks why, the reply is simple: 'We are going to be kidnapped'. (Act I Finale)," Christine paused. After a deep breath and an apologetic look, she continued.

(A/N- This is the real thing, so I'm sorry it's really long. It's gotta be in here though. Imagine how it is to type it!)

"Act II opens at the Boar's Crown Pub, full of London's seedier crowd (Bottoms Up!). During the song, Holmes and Watson enter in disguise. When Holmes quarrels with a local thug, Watson inadvertently gives away their identities. They are mercilessly overpowered and taken to Moriarty. Cricket, however, has followed them and sees what happens. At Moriarty's abandoned factory, Holmes is injected with a lethal dose of the serum, and just as they are about to inject Watson, the police burst in, led there by Cricket. Moriarty and his henchmen escape, but just barely. Holmes is taken back to Baker Street, where the Doctor who was under Moriarty's control now completes the antidote Homes had started. Cricket wants to help the other Irregulars, but they want nothing to do with her, until Wiggins intervenes (They Could Be Kind). Elizabeth is alone with Holmes as he recovers. Elizabeth asks if this life is the reason he left her long ago, and he admits that it is. She shows him the locket he had given her, when he promised she would 'always have his heart', and angrily tells him he should have given her more credit (I Used To Know). Frustrated, she leaves, saying she will get a police escort home. In the bowels of the city, Moriarty is informed that his legions are getting out of control, looting and burning indiscriminately. When his henchman Benjamin informs him that some of his gang think he's obsessed with Sherlock Holmes, and is going soft, Moriarty snaps- nearly killing Benjamin in his outrage, and exploding through the powerful dual-location song with Holmes (One Man), each committing himself to the other's destruction. Elizabeth's 'police escort' turns out to be in Moriarty's employ, and she is kidnapped and brought to Moriarty. Cricket, who has been following her, tries to help, but is also captured ("Brilliant Cricket" "Kline!") Moriarty sends Cricket to find Holmes. Elizabeth asks her to give Holmes the locket, but Moriarty takes it from her. Cricket finds Holmes and Watson in the streets, and when Holmes hears that Moriarty has Elizabeth, his rage is barely controllable. As he and Watson rush to find Moriarty, Cricket says a prayer that her friend will be all right (Cricket's Prayer), while Moriarty's legions ravage the city (London in Flames). At long last, the forces of good and evil meet in the abandoned factory. Lestrade and Nigel are wounded in the fierce fighting, but Moriarty's men are overcome. Moriarty himself escapes by climbing to a catwalk above the factory floor, with Holmes at his heels. On the catwalk, with a storm raging outside the window behind them, the two come fact to face in one explosive final confrontation, each man at the height of his powers and his fury. From the edge of your seat to the touching final scene (Cricket's Prayer Reprise), HOLMES! will take our breath away and not give it back until the curtain falls. Now... it begins," Christine finished.

She tossed the pamphlet into the backseat towards Holmes and leaned back in her seat. Holmes sighed.

"Well, it's better than some that I've heard about," he grumped. I laughed and hit the accelerator, Christine clutching at the door, and Kline and Holmes groaning a bit.

******************************************************************************************

"Hey, it's that boy!" Kline exclaimed upon reaching the theater. Holmes smiled.

"Ah, yes. His name is-"

"Todd. Anybody could figure that out," scoffed Kline. I frowned.

"I didn't," I muttered somewhat self consciously. Christine smiled and patted me on the back.

"No big deal. Not everyone can do it."

"Did you?"

"Well, yeah. But it's Kline and me's job to know."

"Grammar."

"Shut it, will you?"

"I don't think I will."

"I'll smack you."

"Ooo, I'm trembling in my shoes."

"You want Sherlock to know about Marcus?"

"Shutting up now."

Christine grinned at me and jogged ahead to catch up with Kline, who was talking happily to Todd. Holmes looked at me.

"And who is Marcus?" he asked innocently. I blushed a bit.

"Oh, Marcus is.. a guy," I finished lamely. Holmes laughed.

"I knew that. Even you could figure that out. Why did Christine just blackmail you with him?" Holmes persisted. The blush grew as I remembered him.

"Well, at Christine's tenth birthday party, someone she had invited, namely Rachel, wanted to play Spin the Bottle. She had a couple of her guy friends over too, and they seemed willing. I joined the game, and uh... the bottle landed on Marcus Edwards. Well, I kinda had braces then, and so did he. When we kissed, our braces got... stuck. We had to go to the hospital to get them unhooked. Kline announced it as the longest kiss in history, five hours and ten minutes," I mumbled. Holmes tried (unsuccessfully, might I add) not to laugh.

"Well, that isn't so bad. Who did Kline and Christine end up kissing?" Holmes asked eagerly. I grinned at that memory.

"Kline had to kiss her good friend, Rual Morris. And Christine kissed her worst enemy who just so happened to be there, Shamie Femiah. That's his nickname anyway," I paused to think, "I don't actually know his real name." Holmes smiled.

"Well, that must have been interesting."

"You have no idea. Hey, look. Christine looks like she's ready to kill."

And I was right, too. Christine had turned bright red, and she was clenching her hands into fists. Todd was talking to her, and he must have said something really bad, because the next thing that happened was that Kline was holding Christine back. Holmes and I exchanged glances and ran over to help Kline, who looked stricken at her friend's behavior.

"Take it back!" Christine screamed. Todd seemed quite amused.

"No way, José. They're stupid, they really are," Todd announced. Christine lunged at him again, but Holmes carefully shoved him aside.

"I'm sorry, Todd. My friend here hasn't taken her medication yet," Holmes said politely. Trying to maneuver herself around the blockade that stood in front of her, Christine lunged forward again.

"I DON'T take medication!" she yelped. Holmes smiled at Todd and stood in front of Christine as Kline and I shuffled her away from Todd. Todd laughed at us, and went inside the building. Christine struggled to get at him, but Kline and I managed to hold her back.

"Whoa! Down girl, down!" Kline yelled. Christine stopped struggling and glared in the direction Todd went. She carefully smoothed her hair and then turned to us calmly.

"Well, inside, shall we?"

"What the heck happened?" I whispered to Kline. Kline snickered.

"Ah, the joys of having a friend who has obsessions. Todd insulted the original Sherlock Holmes stories in front of her. She went ballistic. Though," Kline mused, suddenly sobered, "it would have been interesting to see her attack Todd. I wonder how'd she kill him. She isn't exactly strong."

"I heard that," Christine called back at us. She was talking to Holmes. I blushed a bit to be heard talking about my friend, but then turned to Kline again.

"Interesting. Then again, I would have pounced on him also," I decided. Kline grinned.

"Sherlockian."

"Well, yeah."

"Only cause you're dating the descendant, I bet."

"Give me credit. And we're not dating."

"Um-hm. Suuurrrrreeeee you're not. Then why does he kiss you so often?"

"Why does Christine kiss him so often?"

"Touche! All though, that was more an insult towards Christine than me."

"Heard that too," Christine shouted at us. I smiled in her direction, and continued to argue with Kline.

"I'm sure you'd like Sherlock Holmes if you dated him. And I'm not dating him. But I read the books before I met him," I reminded her. Kline rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, but only because Ms. Klisa made you. Said something about 'knowing your origin'."

"Isn't that the day you got angry at Kelsey and put her in the garbage can?"

"No, that was the day I got angry at Christine and put her in the garbage can."

"Bully."

"Strong," Kline corrected. I laughed.

"Yeah, lifting two 98-pound girls makes you strong. I could lift them!"

"No you couldn't. And I'll have you know, they were 100-pounds by then. At least Christine was."

"Eighth grade, right?"

"Yeah."

We were directed into the auditorium and took our seats, me sitting next to Holmes and Kline, and Kline sitting next to Christine. Holmes noted with some amusement, that Todd had chosen the seat next to Christine. We could see, as the lights went down, her teeth bared and ready to bite the poor guy. However, a man coming on stage stopped her from decapitating him.

The man was tall, I noticed right away. He was holding a Chihuahua by his side, and a hairless cat in his arms. He had brown hair and, from the glare of the stage lights, it looked like gray eyes. He was wearing a bright pink shirt, and purple pinstriped pants. I heard Kline giggle as he came on, and I saw Holmes raise an eyebrow. He turned on the microphone, and smiled at the somewhat miniscule audience.

"Hi! My name is Victor Joecano, and I'm the producer of both of the shows that will be running during this time. My dogs name is Tiny, and my cats name is Rex. They'll be around a lot, so please don't step on them. We're very proud to have you all here, and you're very privileged to be here. Only so many people can be taken for actors and dancers, while we take as many musicians as we can get. I'll be introducing the staff, if they could please come on?"

A long file of people came onto the stage. They ranged from bright and colorful, like the musical director Sallay, and drab and dreary, like the woman at the other end of the line who wore all brown, except for a pair of toe shoes. Victor cleared his throat.

"First of all, you all should know John Goodmena by now. He is directing Holmes!, and is happy to be here."

Goodmena stepped forward and smiled cheerfully at the crowd, who mumbled in response. Victor grinned.

"Next to him we have Sallay Jargin, the musical director for both productions, Holmes! and The Nutcracker. She directs the singing and the instruments, so you'll see her running around a lot."

Sallay scowled at the audience. You could get the feeling that she really didn't want to be there. Victor smiled happily at her, and turned to another man.

"This is Robert 'Bubba' Erickson. He is the seamstress for both, and he works in the basement. If you need a costume repaired and such, go down to him and ask. Trust me, as mean as he looks, he is a very nice man."

A large, large African American stepped forward on this. He smiled at the audience, but it wasn't the conceited smile of Goodmena, or the glare of Jargin. His was genuine, and the crowd clapped for him. I clapped along. He seemed to be really nice. Victor continued.

"Now we have Denise Leonard. She is the stage and prop manager. We lovingly call her 'The Prop Nazi', but only if you touch the props will you get killed."

A petite woman came forward. She certainly didn't look like a Nazi. In fact, she seemed rather shy of the large place. She smiled weakly at us, and then hurried back into line. Victor grinned again, and then pointed at the last woman in line, the drab one who was wearing brown.

"And this," Victor paused for effect. "Is our esteemed choreographer, Jacquelyn LeSalle, usually referred to as Jackie. She does both productions, as most of these people do."

The drab lady looked out at the audience. She was obviously Indian in origin. She had brown hair, so she had to be Anglo Saxon also. She was quite boring looking, actually. She had brown hair, brown eyes, brown clothes. And her eyes kept darting across the stage, as though looking for a way out. Victor smiled one more time, which was very annoying, surprisingly enough.

"Now, the rules. The reason we had you bring the suitcases of your stuff is because you have to stay at a hotel the entire production. You will not be staying at home. The Grand Plaza Hotel is happy to have people in its corridors at all times. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but this is how it must be.

"Second, you can only be late to rehearsals five times before you are kicked out.

"Third. Listen to us. We know what we're doing.

"Fourth. Anybody 18 and below will have schooling from private tutors.

"Fifth. There is no fifth.

"I'm also the director for The Nutcracker. Now, to rehearsal. If the dancers could go with Jackie, the actors and actresses with John, and the musicians with Sallay. Actors, you will be called down periodically by Bubba, who will want to measure you. Go!"

I jumped to my feet and followed Holmes as quick as I could down to the pit. We had brought our instruments, just in case, and were happy now that we had. Only problem was that we had to lug our suitcases with us. I was relieved to see that others had to also. I watched Christine disappear into the crowd, only to reappear on the stage, closely followed by Todd. She didn't look happy about that. Sallay stood on the stage and glared at them, and then jumped into the pit.

She was wearing a lime green tank top and a purple miniskirt that matched her hair. She wore knee high boots that looked quite painful.

"All right. Lets get to work. You know where the sections are. Work out what chair you are and such, and then we'll warm up," Jargin snapped at us. I scrambled from Holmes's side and found Claudia quickly enough. She smiled at me and moved her chair over a bit to accommodate me. I flopped down and pieced my clarinet together. After a minute, the orchestra was settled, and Jargin stood in front of us, an extremely dangerous looking baton in her hand.

"C sharp concert scale. Now!"

*************************************************************************************************

"She is a devil!" I snapped. Holmes, Christine, Kline and I were sharing a taxi to the hotel we had to stay at after five hours of rehearsal.

"You'd think," I continued, "that the show was going up tomorrow. Right guys?"

Kline nodded vigorously, and Holmes shrugged.

"Some people are a bit more nervous than others. She just feels that we won't be ready in time for the opening night," Holmes explained gently. I rolled my eyes, but looked at Christine.

"What about you? How is Goodmena? Is he a slave driver also?" I asked, quite curious. Christine laughed.

"Goodmena left halfway through the read through. We were left with Bubba. He's really nice, you know? He seemed to know what he was doing when it came to directing. He told us what to do, how to say things, stuff like that. And he measured us. I already have a costume prepared," Christine announced happily. Holmes frowned in the darkness.

"How do you already have a costume prepared?"

"Oh, I am small enough to fit in the old one that they had. It is pretty gross looking, actually. The shirt and stockings are both ivory in color, while her jumper/skirt thingie is tan. And it is really wrinkled. Then again, I'm a street urchin. I'll take what I can get," Christine mused. Holmes and Kline laughed at this announcement, and then I looked out the window.

"Hey you guys. We're here."

We exited the cramped taxi and went into the Grand Plaza Hotel. And let me tell you, huge is an understatement. The stairs were beautiful, with gold railings and a rug rolling down it. The reception room... the entire place looked like a mansion.

Holmes and I approached the desk while Kline and Christine ogled at the sights. The woman looked at us expectantly.

"Name?"

"Holmes, Watson, Kline, Penninger," Holmes told her. The lady typed into the computer, and then tossed me the four different keys.

"Holmes, 221. Watson, 238. Kline, 218. Penninger, 211. Next!"

I tossed Holmes his key, but he scowled at it.

"What?"

"221. What are the chances that the director saw my name and decided to be cute and give me the room of my 'ancestor'?" Holmes asked.

"One in a million," I answered.

"It was a rhetorical question, Watson."

"I know."

I gave Kline and Christine their keys, and they seemed quite amused about the whole 221 thing. We jumped in the elevator, and rode it up.

We disappeared into our respective rooms, and were quickly dreaming happy thoughts.

Who knew that the happy thoughts would disappear so quickly?

Done! I'm good, oh yeah! Yes, I'm in a better mood now. Not so grumpy, now just hyper. I figured out how to rotate the writing. I'll write SH first, then HP, then my OS. OS means original story, by the way. So, heaven knows when the next chapter of this will be up. If you really want to know, read my other stories and keep tabs on the updates of each, and then you'll have a somewhat good idea. I have 4 chapters in HP so far, and one in OS. Please read them! I will really appreciate it, and I won't feel so bad about it. Oh, and Queen Hotaru? Read your story. Tis good, tis quite good!

Thanks to Someday Sara for this chapter. I was just going to stop for a while, and then I read her fourth chapter of Picture Perfect, and it cracked me up. I wouldn't have written more if I hadn't of laughed a bit. So thank her, people!

I own nothing. Holmes! the Musical belongs to Brett Nicholson and Hans Vollrath. Visit www.holmesthemusical.com for more info on it. Please don't tell them about this story though. I could get majorly sued!