Hiyah! I'm here with the next chapter to my demented story!!! This chapter is dedicated to (and here comes the list...it's very short, though!):
Rose With Thorns--Thanks so much! I didn't think anyone would like it so much! I feel so happy!!! ::tears stream down her face:: Thank you, thank you, thank you! And I do hope you get you chair reupholstered! Or just get a new one! You know, one that can handle clawing!
Mary Christmas--I'm so glad you reviewed!!! OMG, I've already been reading the stories on that site you suggested, and they're sooooo good! I love them all!!!!!!!!!!! (Is that enough "!"? Of course not!)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (There; I think that's enough!)
Thanks, you guys! You're the people that keep me writing on and on and on...
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Disclaimer: Yeah, we all know! I don't own any characters except for Alicia, who you haven't even met yet! Don't worry; she'll come up later. I think...unless I suddenly change my mind...which is quite possible...hmm...
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Lestrade leapt out of her hovercar and bolted for the door to 221B Baker Street. Before knocking on the door, she remembered her manners and who she was pretending to be. She smoothed out the dress she wore and fixed her hair as best she could before she rang the doorbell.
The door was answered by Watson. "Hello. I wish to speak to Mr. Holmes, please. It's very urgent. My distant cousin, Elizabeth Lestrade, sent me."
"Really?" asked Watson, skeptically. (A/N: Hey, Watson's been with Holmes long enough to be at least skeptical a little bit when people come to ask for help, especially if they're batting their eyelids like Alicia was doing right then.) "Might I ask what your name is?"
"Miss Alicia Kendrickson. And please, tell him that the matter is of the utmost importance!"
"One moment, please," said Watson. He closed the door in her face. Seems like he's losing his Victorian manners quickly, thought Lestrade. I wonder if it's all that bad, though...
**********
"...A Miss Alicia Kendrickson, I believe she told me."
Confound her! thought Holmes. Of all the times...well, then, if she is so impatient to be turned into the authorities, then so be it. Out loud, he said, "What does she look like?"
"She's wearing a long red dress with matching high heels. She has black hair and brown hazel eyes. I would place her age at about mid-thirties, though she has a few more wrinkles than most of her age."
"My my, Watson. Those programs in your brain must be very good indeed. I think you had better do the detecting around here instead of myself!"
"Holmes, I really don't need your sarcasm at the moment."
"Sorry, old fellow. Well, let her in. Just entertain her for a few moments while I make myself ready, all right, Watson?"
"Of course, Holmes." He was about to close the door as he exited Holmes' rooms when Holmes commented "And don't mind if I don't look the same when I come out. I may not look like myself. But to not be alarmed." Watson nodded his head in understanding and shut the door.
What is he up to? wondered Watson to himself. I wonder...but that's impossible...isn't it?
**********
"What's taking so long?" muttered Lestrade, who was still outside. "I never knew that Holmes lost his Victorian politeness, too..." She was interrupted by the sound of footsteps within.
The door opened in front of her. It was Watson's face she saw and his voice that said, "Won't you come in, Miss Kendrickson?" He opened the door wide, giving her enough space to enter.
She walked through the door, looking at the familiar interior, trying to not show her familiarity with the room. She hesitated a moment until Watson said, "Won't you please sit down? Holmes will be here shortly. He has some business that needs finishing. He'll be here any moment." She sat down in the chair she usually sat in, the one next to Holmes' favorite chair. Watson took the chair he always sat in. The pretend fire in the fireplace was crackling merrily
There was a long lull, then Watson asked, "Now, Miss Kendrickson, may I ask you a question?"
"Of, course, Dr. Watson, but I can only answer questions I am at liberty to answer."
"Of course, Miss Kendrickson. Now, would you please tell me a bit about who you are?"
"Certainly. I am the elder child of my mother and father, having a younger brother. I live with my parents, not being married, as you see, to anyone. I do not work; my family is fairly well-off in financial means. I am a distant relative of Miss Lestrade; we have been friends for a while now, and she trusts me implicitly."
"And what did Miss Lestrade have to say to you?"
"I am not at liberty to tell you, Dr. Watson. I am very sorry, but she said that the words I tell Mr. Holmes are for his ears only."
"Oh; I see." He, actually, did not, but decided that it was best to pretend he did. "Now, Miss Kendrickson, can I tempt you with a cup of tea?"
"Why, thank you, Dr. Watson. A cup of tea would be splendid." Watson walked out of the room to return in a few seconds with tea. (Things take much less time in the future than now!) She took the steaming tea from Watson's hand and sipped it politely, waiting for Watson to say something.
"Umm...ahhh...so, Miss Kendrickson...umm..."
"Yes?" She smiled widely.
"Yes, well, um...I just was wondering about...your...uhh...what did you study at college?"
"College? I don't remember ever mentioning anything about my college life, Dr. Watson. Now, don't tell me you have the same mental facilities as Mr. Holmes but just are too modest to admit it!" Watson blushed deeply, a bit flustered, a bit prideful, and a bit happier than he was before.
"Oh, no; Holmes has all the analytical brains. I just supposed that anyone with a well-to-do family would obviously go to college."
"Why, that's very smart of you, Dr. Watson." He blushed again. "Yes, I went to Cambridge College. My father is simply obsessed with the idea of going to a college that has been in this country for so many years. I was going to go to Oxford but decided against it. There are simply too many people who are, oh, so modern there. I despise these modern ideas. I wonder at times why we don't just turn the clocks back and live as we did before."
"I quite agree, Miss Kendrickson. I was just telling Holmes the other day..." But, before Watson could finish his thought, Holmes stepped out.
Miss Kendrickson, first looking at Holmes, stared at him, an eyebrow raised. She then almost jumped out of her seat, then regained herself and stayed put. Holmes, seeing her every move, walked towards her, but his gait was different. He tended to favor his right foot over his left.
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Now, for the finishing touches... Holmes was standing in front of his mirror and making a few last minute changes to his appearance before straightening and brushing the wrinkles out of his clothes. Well, actually, he only straightened somewhat. He kept himself hunched slightly. He added onto himself a scar on his right eyelid, a bandage on his left hand, and more bruises on his arms and face. They were, of course, fake, but necessary to draw out Miss Kendrickson. Just a last touch... He added a puffy right eye. There; perfect! She will think that I am weak and not in any condition to fight; therefore, she either will not battle me until I am at my full strength or lunge at me when we're alone so she can destroy me. The latter seems more probable, but we shall soon see. He left his room to find a very flustered Watson and a very becoming woman staring at him.
**********
What happened? thought Lestrade. This can't be Holmes! He's not injured! Was I too late? It can't be...what has he been doing?! He shouldn't be agreeing to see anyone in his condition! She was about to spring out of her chair when she remembered who she was supposed to be playing. According to her observation, Miss Kendrickson would not care or even flinch at the sight at Holmes' appearance. On the contrary, she would act "indifferent to the incidents throughout her stay at the establishment". Oh well. At least I can get out of this disguise when Watson leaves... wait...I don't have my regular clothes on underneath! And I need my lasers to change my eye color...and my hair...
Watson left the room as Holmes gingerly took a seat and stared over at Miss Kendrickson/ Lestrade. He looked at her warily, but not with his usual attentiveness. He seemed more tired than she had ever remembered him, except when he came back to life. Still, even though he was injured, he scrutinized her carefully. She tried not to flinch.
Eventually, he sank back into his favorite chair and asked her, "Well, Miss Kensington, what a surprise. It is nice to see you again."
"And you, too, Mr. Holmes."
"Please, just Holmes is fine." What in the world...?! thought Lestrade. Why is this woman so important to Holmes?! She was, to be frank, jealous. Jealous of whoever this Miss Kendrickson is. Jealous that Holmes was already on a last-name basis with her. Just plain jealous.
Holmes continued. "I have been wondering when I'd see you again."
"Oh, really?" she asked, coldly, furiously trying to keep herself from becoming Lestrade again.
"Yes, Alicia--it is all right if I call you Alicia?--I have been wondering when I'd see you again. It has been, what, a month, I believe?"
"Yes, quite, Holmes." Lestrade forced herself to stay calm. She smiled wanly.
"What were we talking about before? Ah, yes; our little deal." He stood up and began to pace the room slowly, cautiously.
He shouldn't be trying to pace the room! thought Lestrade furiously. What is he doing?! What deal? But her heart did lighten a bit at the thought that maybe this Alicia wasn't Holmes' lady friend or anything like that.
"I am very sorry, Alicia," said Holmes as he stopped pacing the floor to look at her in the eyes, "but I cannot come to terms with it. I must decline."
"Really, Holmes?" said Alicia. "I must insist you agree on the terms."
"Me? Agree with terms such as agreeing to stop, as you said, 'tormenting' Professor Moriarty just because you're close to him?! Agree to such terms as giving up my practice of detecting and lead a leisurely life in the country? Agree to such terms as leaving behind New London and New Scotland Yard and the people there? Leave here to let your precious Professor wreak havoc on this country, on this world, like a whirlwind?! You are an absurd woman, Miss Kendrickson, simply absurd!" It was as if all hell had turned loose and it had turned loose from his mouth.
Lestrade's heart skipped a few beats. Miss Kendrickson wasn't involved with Holmes! He was being courteous to mislead her! Her heart lightened considerably. Miss Kendrickson was an enemy of Holmes, not a friend! Well, that's a relief. But Holmes said he was expecting me as Alicia...what if she comes? I've got to tell him who I am! But how?
She was thinking about this while Holmes began pacing again. "Miss Kendrickson, I must insist upon your leaving these establishments immediately. I have no tolerance for you at the moment, and I must say that, though I am a true Victorian, if you stay much longer I might forget my Victorian gentlemanly manners and let my feelings reign over me." He stared at her with an icy glare Lestrade had hoped she'd never be at the receiving line of. She wanted to yell out at him that she wasn't Miss Kendrickson, but Lestrade, his companion, his friend, his...(okay, I'll write it)...love.
She thought that, maybe, just maybe, she shouldn't tell him. Not yet, anyway. Not until he could look her in the eye without all of those cuts and bruises. Not until she could look him in the eye and say it confidently. Not until he had been healed. Not until she could herself capture Miss Kendrickson...
Watson appeared in the doorframe. "I'm very sorry to interrupt, but Holmes, I thought you might find this interesting. There's a woman outside that claims her name is Miss Kendrickson, too."
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Well? Is it good? Kinda good? Just plain awful? Do you like the cliffie? What do you think will happen? Any suggestions? Any comments about my writing? Please, if you're going to review, I hope they're constructive. If they're flames, I'll just use them to cook my food. Heck, I might be able to cook a whole banquet! PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!!!! It's what keeps me writing.