A/N: Sorry it took me a couple of days to get this one out...It's hard to
think up a mystery plot and still have it be interesting to readers!
That night, Jon stayed up until midnight going through James Moriarty's file, gapping over the articles and notes that his father had written. When he finally fell asleep, he was just able to put the file back in its place before he collapsed onto the armchair by the hot coals of the fire and fell into an uneasy sleep.
***The next morning...***
As soon as he was awake, Sherlock Holmes leapt to his feet and rushed to get dressed, glancing at his pocket watch as he buttoned up his shirt. It was 7:00 and Watson would be arriving at any moment. He unlocked his door and walked out to find Jonathan curled up in his armchair, deep asleep but for some reason the boy was muttering something and kept twitching at times, as if he were having a nightmare. Holmes studied the boy for a minute and was about to wake him up when there was a knock on the front door. Holmes stood up and let Watson in after exchanging a brief greeting and motioned for him to sit down.
Watson glanced at Jon and turned to look at Holmes, "Goodness Holmes! The boy is having a nightmare!"
"Well, that is what I was thinking as well...should I wake him?"
"By all means!"
Holmes walked back over to his chair and roughly shook Jon's shoulders. The boy started and sprang awake, his eyes wide and frightened. He glanced around and shook his head as if to clear it and rubbed his eyes. Watson stood up and moved towards him, "Are you quite all right? It seems that you were having a bit of a...nightmare..."
Jon glared up as if to rebuke Watson for saying it out loud, "Ya...I'm fine..."
Watson stepped back, turned to Holmes and shrugged, then sat back down in his armchair. Holmes raised his eyebrows and rubbed his hands together, "Well, now that we all seem to be awake, I should think that you both would like to know what we are going to do today." Watson nodded in agreement and he went on, "First thing is that Watson and I must rough up our appearances so we won't attract to much attention to ourselves when we try to dig up some new information that could help us to prove the case...Jon...You're probably fine the way you are..." Jon scowled and folded his arms across his chest. "Watson, I believe I have some outfits that will fit you in my closet. If you will follow me, we can change and get to work."
The doctor stood up and followed Holmes into his bedroom while Jon stole his now open chair and sat down. In a few minutes, the duo came back out looking so different that Jon didn't really believe that it was them. Watson had now grown a shaggy beard and was wearing a patched up overcoat and an old bowler hat while Holmes had grown a mustache and looked almost exactly like some of the men down at the docks. Watson smiled at Jon's expression of confusion, "Why don't look so surprised my dear boy. It is just us! Holmes is a master of disguises."
Jon stood up as the two men crossed over the room and Holmes opened the door, "I guessed about as much..."
Sherlock walked out into the sidewalk and began to saunter down the street, "Well, the first place we should probably head to is where I get started on most of my cases that deal with crime in the city..."
"Where's that? Scotland Yard?"
"Heavens no boy! The local tavern!"
"Oh..."
***
When they reached the front of the bar Holmes turned to Jon and looked him straight in the eyes, "Now listen here. I do not want you blowing our cover or attracting any attention to us so do try to behave yourself..."
Jon rolled his eyes and pushed his way past the detective into the building and muttered, "...If I behave then I really will attract attention..."
Holmes shot an I-blame-you glance at Watson who simply shrugged and followed Jon in to a table in a back corner of the room. Holmes sighed and walked in too, but instead headed for the bar, taking an empty seat at the edge of the counter next to some very rough looking men with tankards full of rum.
Watson was trying not to breathe the heavily smoke laden air in to much and turned to Jon, who looked quite comfortable with the whole situation, "Tell me Jon, you look very at ease in here...Have you been to this tavern before?"
"Of course not! I just recognize most of the men in here, but luckily, most of them are so drunk, they won't even give me a passing glance! You see that man over there, the one next to the man Holmes is talking to?" Watson nodded and glanced at the man Jon was pointing at. He was a heavy set man in his late thirties with a rough beard and greasy hair, "He is my boss at work, 'Mr.' Cunders...lovely fellow really, especially if you avoid him."
"Are you sure none of them will recognize you here? You realize of course that if anyone of them does, you may blow whatever cover story that Holmes is setting up?"
"Of course I do! I'm not an idiot! I just don't think that..." Just then Cunders turned his head and caught sight of Jon, who swore under his breath and turned to Watson as his boss lumbered over, "Of course, I could be wrong..."
Cunders leaned on the table and gave Jon a drunken glare, "So whats bring ye to these parts o town, Jon?"
"Well, uh...Can I get back to you on that?"
"Why aren't yous at work, like I told ya ta be!"
"Well, I suppose because I had better things to do at the moment" Cunders glare deepened, "...but as soon as I am done, I will rush right over to the docks and get back to work."
"I don't like your attitude boy...I never have..."
"Well I am glad you told me that Mr. Cunders, because now I will reform myself and become a much better person, all because you told me that."
"That's it boy! I've had 'nough of your backtalk!" Cunders lifted his hand up and brought it down to punch Jon, but he was too fast for the drunken man and slipped under the table. Watson leapt to his feet and called out to Holmes who slapped his forehead, sighed, and walked quickly over to help.
"Stops movin' so damn fast boy, so's I can can hit ya!" Cunders raised him hand holding the tankard and smashed it down onto the table, sending splinters, rum, and tiny shards of glass flying in every direction as the table shattered under the force and Jon had just enough time to roll out of the way and dive under a neighboring table before he was crushed.
"That's not much incentive for me to slow down, now is it Cunders!"
Watson turned to Holmes as Cunders and Jon went at it some more, "Holmes, what should we do?! The boy will be killed!"
"Stay calm Watson...he is doing just fine. I don't believe that he even has so much of a scratch. Besides, there is not much we can do unless you want me to shoot this Cunders fellow, but I believe that starting a gun fight would fall under the category of attracting attention to ourselves..."
"Are you saying that this," he motioned towards Jon who had just managed to fend Cunders off with a chair, "Is not attracting attention?!"
Holmes shrugged and glanced at the other people in the bar who were all going about their business as if nothing had happened, "Well, it isn't yet anyway..."
Watson followed Holmes's gaze and frowned in surprise, "Well, I guess you're right...but still, we just can't leave the boy to deal with this on his own...I feel sort of responsible for his well being..."
Holmes sighed and patted Watson on the back, "I suppose you're right Watson...Don't worry, I can handle this..." He walked over to Cunders who now had Jon cornered and tapped the man on the shoulder and with the other picked up the bottom of his shattered tankard, "Excuse me sir, but I believe this is yours..." and smashed the glass tankard down onto Cunders head.
The man stared blankly at Holmes before reeling backwards and collapsing back... unfortunately right on top of Jon who gasped for breath after having such a large man fall on him and shoved him off with some difficulty. The boy stood up, brushed himself off and walked slowly over to Holmes and Watson, "...I could have done that..."
***
Another half an hour later and the group had made it back to Baker Street surprisingly in tact. When they got into the apartment and had firmly locked the door behind them, Holmes yanked off his mustache and turned to Watson and Jon, "Well, while you two were doing heavens knows what, I was actually getting information on the case..."
Jon flopped onto the rug in front of the fireplace and scowled, "Well excuse me if I was a little too preoccupied at the moment to help you out..."
Holmes gave the boy a don't-interrupt-me look and he fell silent, "...As I was saying...My contact informed me that the most likely candidate for the murder of Sir Cullington was probably a fellow named Bowmer, a somewhat well-known member of the London gang that has been connected with multiple murders, robberies, and other such things. Although my informant wasn't able to supply me with an accurate description of Bowmer he was able to give me an address at which he is often seen late at night."
Watson nodded as he took off his beard and hat, "So I suppose we'll be staying up late tonight...?"
"Exactly Watson."
That night, Jon stayed up until midnight going through James Moriarty's file, gapping over the articles and notes that his father had written. When he finally fell asleep, he was just able to put the file back in its place before he collapsed onto the armchair by the hot coals of the fire and fell into an uneasy sleep.
***The next morning...***
As soon as he was awake, Sherlock Holmes leapt to his feet and rushed to get dressed, glancing at his pocket watch as he buttoned up his shirt. It was 7:00 and Watson would be arriving at any moment. He unlocked his door and walked out to find Jonathan curled up in his armchair, deep asleep but for some reason the boy was muttering something and kept twitching at times, as if he were having a nightmare. Holmes studied the boy for a minute and was about to wake him up when there was a knock on the front door. Holmes stood up and let Watson in after exchanging a brief greeting and motioned for him to sit down.
Watson glanced at Jon and turned to look at Holmes, "Goodness Holmes! The boy is having a nightmare!"
"Well, that is what I was thinking as well...should I wake him?"
"By all means!"
Holmes walked back over to his chair and roughly shook Jon's shoulders. The boy started and sprang awake, his eyes wide and frightened. He glanced around and shook his head as if to clear it and rubbed his eyes. Watson stood up and moved towards him, "Are you quite all right? It seems that you were having a bit of a...nightmare..."
Jon glared up as if to rebuke Watson for saying it out loud, "Ya...I'm fine..."
Watson stepped back, turned to Holmes and shrugged, then sat back down in his armchair. Holmes raised his eyebrows and rubbed his hands together, "Well, now that we all seem to be awake, I should think that you both would like to know what we are going to do today." Watson nodded in agreement and he went on, "First thing is that Watson and I must rough up our appearances so we won't attract to much attention to ourselves when we try to dig up some new information that could help us to prove the case...Jon...You're probably fine the way you are..." Jon scowled and folded his arms across his chest. "Watson, I believe I have some outfits that will fit you in my closet. If you will follow me, we can change and get to work."
The doctor stood up and followed Holmes into his bedroom while Jon stole his now open chair and sat down. In a few minutes, the duo came back out looking so different that Jon didn't really believe that it was them. Watson had now grown a shaggy beard and was wearing a patched up overcoat and an old bowler hat while Holmes had grown a mustache and looked almost exactly like some of the men down at the docks. Watson smiled at Jon's expression of confusion, "Why don't look so surprised my dear boy. It is just us! Holmes is a master of disguises."
Jon stood up as the two men crossed over the room and Holmes opened the door, "I guessed about as much..."
Sherlock walked out into the sidewalk and began to saunter down the street, "Well, the first place we should probably head to is where I get started on most of my cases that deal with crime in the city..."
"Where's that? Scotland Yard?"
"Heavens no boy! The local tavern!"
"Oh..."
***
When they reached the front of the bar Holmes turned to Jon and looked him straight in the eyes, "Now listen here. I do not want you blowing our cover or attracting any attention to us so do try to behave yourself..."
Jon rolled his eyes and pushed his way past the detective into the building and muttered, "...If I behave then I really will attract attention..."
Holmes shot an I-blame-you glance at Watson who simply shrugged and followed Jon in to a table in a back corner of the room. Holmes sighed and walked in too, but instead headed for the bar, taking an empty seat at the edge of the counter next to some very rough looking men with tankards full of rum.
Watson was trying not to breathe the heavily smoke laden air in to much and turned to Jon, who looked quite comfortable with the whole situation, "Tell me Jon, you look very at ease in here...Have you been to this tavern before?"
"Of course not! I just recognize most of the men in here, but luckily, most of them are so drunk, they won't even give me a passing glance! You see that man over there, the one next to the man Holmes is talking to?" Watson nodded and glanced at the man Jon was pointing at. He was a heavy set man in his late thirties with a rough beard and greasy hair, "He is my boss at work, 'Mr.' Cunders...lovely fellow really, especially if you avoid him."
"Are you sure none of them will recognize you here? You realize of course that if anyone of them does, you may blow whatever cover story that Holmes is setting up?"
"Of course I do! I'm not an idiot! I just don't think that..." Just then Cunders turned his head and caught sight of Jon, who swore under his breath and turned to Watson as his boss lumbered over, "Of course, I could be wrong..."
Cunders leaned on the table and gave Jon a drunken glare, "So whats bring ye to these parts o town, Jon?"
"Well, uh...Can I get back to you on that?"
"Why aren't yous at work, like I told ya ta be!"
"Well, I suppose because I had better things to do at the moment" Cunders glare deepened, "...but as soon as I am done, I will rush right over to the docks and get back to work."
"I don't like your attitude boy...I never have..."
"Well I am glad you told me that Mr. Cunders, because now I will reform myself and become a much better person, all because you told me that."
"That's it boy! I've had 'nough of your backtalk!" Cunders lifted his hand up and brought it down to punch Jon, but he was too fast for the drunken man and slipped under the table. Watson leapt to his feet and called out to Holmes who slapped his forehead, sighed, and walked quickly over to help.
"Stops movin' so damn fast boy, so's I can can hit ya!" Cunders raised him hand holding the tankard and smashed it down onto the table, sending splinters, rum, and tiny shards of glass flying in every direction as the table shattered under the force and Jon had just enough time to roll out of the way and dive under a neighboring table before he was crushed.
"That's not much incentive for me to slow down, now is it Cunders!"
Watson turned to Holmes as Cunders and Jon went at it some more, "Holmes, what should we do?! The boy will be killed!"
"Stay calm Watson...he is doing just fine. I don't believe that he even has so much of a scratch. Besides, there is not much we can do unless you want me to shoot this Cunders fellow, but I believe that starting a gun fight would fall under the category of attracting attention to ourselves..."
"Are you saying that this," he motioned towards Jon who had just managed to fend Cunders off with a chair, "Is not attracting attention?!"
Holmes shrugged and glanced at the other people in the bar who were all going about their business as if nothing had happened, "Well, it isn't yet anyway..."
Watson followed Holmes's gaze and frowned in surprise, "Well, I guess you're right...but still, we just can't leave the boy to deal with this on his own...I feel sort of responsible for his well being..."
Holmes sighed and patted Watson on the back, "I suppose you're right Watson...Don't worry, I can handle this..." He walked over to Cunders who now had Jon cornered and tapped the man on the shoulder and with the other picked up the bottom of his shattered tankard, "Excuse me sir, but I believe this is yours..." and smashed the glass tankard down onto Cunders head.
The man stared blankly at Holmes before reeling backwards and collapsing back... unfortunately right on top of Jon who gasped for breath after having such a large man fall on him and shoved him off with some difficulty. The boy stood up, brushed himself off and walked slowly over to Holmes and Watson, "...I could have done that..."
***
Another half an hour later and the group had made it back to Baker Street surprisingly in tact. When they got into the apartment and had firmly locked the door behind them, Holmes yanked off his mustache and turned to Watson and Jon, "Well, while you two were doing heavens knows what, I was actually getting information on the case..."
Jon flopped onto the rug in front of the fireplace and scowled, "Well excuse me if I was a little too preoccupied at the moment to help you out..."
Holmes gave the boy a don't-interrupt-me look and he fell silent, "...As I was saying...My contact informed me that the most likely candidate for the murder of Sir Cullington was probably a fellow named Bowmer, a somewhat well-known member of the London gang that has been connected with multiple murders, robberies, and other such things. Although my informant wasn't able to supply me with an accurate description of Bowmer he was able to give me an address at which he is often seen late at night."
Watson nodded as he took off his beard and hat, "So I suppose we'll be staying up late tonight...?"
"Exactly Watson."