***The next morning...***
Jon sat up in his bed and rubbed his face with his hands, yawned widely, and scratched the back of his head. What an event yesterday night had turned out to be...he blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the soft glow of the sunrise coming through his window and threw off his covers, then jumped up, ran across the freezing floor and pulled on some socks and his pants, followed shortly by his shirt, his boots, and his jacket. He rubbed his hands together, trying to stay warm and jogged downstairs, passed quickly by Mrs. Wyser, who had been asleep when he got home last night, and walked outside.
As he walked down the street, he managed to snatch an apple off a passing merchant cart as it wheeled by and took a bite, thinking about what he was going to do. Was he really going to sink down to the level of a victim of blackmail and do what Holmes told him too? Jon thought about it for a long time and finally came up with an answer just as he rounded the corner and began to walk out onto the docks. Yes, he would. He would have done it even if Holmes hadn't threatened him...Dammit...He kicked a pebble into the water. He hated it when he did that.
He waved at Cunders who just nodded back, rolled up his sleeves, and began to help unload a cargo ship that had just docked, making sure that he was facing towards the pier next to them so he could keep an eye on things. As he was struggling trying to unload a huge crate two times his sizes, Jon happened to glance over at the pier, just in time to see someone disappear inside the factory at the end of it. His heart skipped a beat, but unfortunately his crate went sliding off the boat and landed with a loud crash onto the dock. He winced and ducked behind another crate as Cunders came storming over and blamed another worker for it, who of course refused but was stuck with the blame anyway. Jon peered over the box and watched as the man walked away with Cunders, probably to talk about pay cuts.
Jon heaved a sigh of relief and turned back to the next pier. The heavy metal door looked like it was firmly shut, and smoke had begun to rise from its pipes. He glanced shiftily around, took another glance at the receding back of his boss, and quickly slipped off the barge and down onto the lower dock. He dodged through the shadows and coon came up to the factory pier. With his heart thumping in his chest, he slunk over the platform and made his way over to the building and moved over to the door.
He frowned as he spied a huge padlock attached to it and was about to turn away when he decided that it would be a good idea to pull on it anyway. And to his surprise...it was still locked. He scowled at the accursed thing, and then spotted a window about two stories up. It was open and just wide enough for a skinny person such as himself to squeeze through.
Jon grinned happily and climbed quickly up a huge stack of cargo crates that lined the side of the factory until he ran out of boxes and found that he was still a good one to two meters away from the window. He frowned uncertainly and tested the boxes to see if they would hold his weight. Discovering that they were pretty stable, he leapt up at the window, and just managed to grab onto the sill with three fingers of his left hand. He was about to let go and try again when the stack of boxes wavered and fell out from beneath his feet. He swore and struggled to get a firm grip with his right hand, not particularly wanting to fall about ten meters.
He had been able to hoist his body up and was just about to pull his legs through, when the side door swung open and a man came out to see what was going out. Jon heard the door swing open and waved his hands in the air, trying to pull his legs through so that whoever it was wouldn't find half a body sticking out of the window. He was actually able to do it and jumped down to a catwalk inside the building that was hanging over rows of packaging and processing machinery. He heard the side door slam again, and watched pressed against the wall as a man walked in and over to a large room in the far side of the factory. Peering closer, Jon was able to recognize the man immediately. It was Striecher, that bastard that had almost shot him! So Holmes was right after all...Jon frowned. It wasn't fair, he was always right.
He scrambled on his hands and knees cautiously down the catwalk, trying to ignore the thunderous grinding noises of the machines below him and followed Striecher from above, watching curiously as the man as he strode over to another guy who was sitting in a chair set along the wall reading a book with his feet set up on a small desk. He tried to listen in on their conversation but the whirring of the machines completely drowned it out. Jon shook his head and carefully made his way back over to the window again, and sat on the edge, just then remembering that he had knocked the boxes over. He kicked himself mentally and looked desperately around. There was no way that he was going back in, not from the way he had positioned himself on the sill, so there was really only one option.
Jon glanced around for a soft landing, wishing for a cartload of hay or clothes. However, the only thing he was able to spot was a cartload of garbage. He slouched his shoulders, then sighed and rolled his eyes. The things I do for the case...He leapt down and flailing his arms through the air, landed ungracefully in the pile of trash. He shook a piece of old lettuce off his head and climbed out of the cart, brushing off his coat and pants, and his hair.
He was about to walk back to his pier to get back to work, when the man who had gotten stuck with the blame for his mistake earlier saw him, pointed, and shouted for Cunders. Jon swore again and slapped his forehead as his boss rushed over and even from that far away, a sinking feeling fell into Jon's stomach as he watched Cunders' face grow red and yelled out his name. He heaved a sigh, stuck his hands deep into his pockets and walked sullenly over to the pier. Holmes was going to be sorry for this...
***That night, at 221B Baker Street***
Holmes sat next to the fire in a robe puffing on his pipe while Watson sat in his favorite armchair reading a book that he had uncovered in Holmes' collection about the British exploration of India, and nearly fell out of his chair when the front door slammed and a very irate looking Jon stalked into the room.
Holmes raised his eyebrows, "I expected you to be here an hour ago. Come then, what did you find out?"
A flush appeared on the fifteen year old's face, "Oh, excuse me! I was just discussing a pay cut with my boss, who decided to give it to me after a rat snitched me out after seeing me fall from a second story window!"
Watson wrinkled his nose, "What is that rancid stench?"
Jon scowled, "That's the garbage that I had to land in."
Holmes tried to his a small smile, "Well you shouldn't have gotten caught in the first place. Now, what did you learn."
Jon sighed, giving up for the time being, "Well, for starters, I learned that Striecher really is working at the factory, just like you said he was...and not much else..."
Holmes frowned, "Well, what was he doing there?"
"Nothing really, he just walked inside, spoke to another man, but I couldn't hear what they were saying so I left."
"Did you go back afterwards?"
"I couldn't! Cunders was watching me like a hawk! I couldn't even blink without him noticing."
He raised an eyebrow, "It is not my fault you made a mistake. Now, tomorrow you will go back there and learn something that will be of some use to us."
The flush appeared again, "I won't do nothing more for you!"
Watson frowned concernedly, "Are you sure? Don't you remember Holmes' threat?"
"Ya, but I don't care. It's not worth it..."
Holmes smiled, "Are you sure?"
Jon turned to him surprised, "What?"
"Why, I had just thought that you would like the chance of helping to solve this case. But we do not necessarily require you to do the investigation yourself if you are afraid of getting caught..."
Jon scowled, "Now wait a minute, I didn't say I was afraid..."
Holmes interrupted him before he could rant on, "Tomorrow you can take Watson and I to the docks and help us get onto the pier. We will take it from there."
Watson nodded thoughtfully, "That would actually work out much better. Holmes, you would be able to get a first-hand encounter with the situation and the case will be solved sooner, and Jon, you will not have to fear losing your job."
"I'm not afraid of losing my job...!"
Holmes nodded briskly, and waved him out the door, "Of course you do not, but now, Watson and I have a lot of planning to do. You should head home and get some sleep, I have a feeling that tomorrow will be a big day for you."
Jon was herded out the door and it closed quickly behind him. He shook his head angrily. But then realized that they had let him continue to work with them. A happy, strange, feeling rose into his chest and he scowled. They had given him what he wanted after all...that means he still couldn't hate them...Dammit...
A/N: Well, I had fun with this chapter. Sorry it's mostly from Jon's POV, but I kinda had fun with it. Don't worry, the rest of the chapters won't be like this, I promise...
Jon sat up in his bed and rubbed his face with his hands, yawned widely, and scratched the back of his head. What an event yesterday night had turned out to be...he blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the soft glow of the sunrise coming through his window and threw off his covers, then jumped up, ran across the freezing floor and pulled on some socks and his pants, followed shortly by his shirt, his boots, and his jacket. He rubbed his hands together, trying to stay warm and jogged downstairs, passed quickly by Mrs. Wyser, who had been asleep when he got home last night, and walked outside.
As he walked down the street, he managed to snatch an apple off a passing merchant cart as it wheeled by and took a bite, thinking about what he was going to do. Was he really going to sink down to the level of a victim of blackmail and do what Holmes told him too? Jon thought about it for a long time and finally came up with an answer just as he rounded the corner and began to walk out onto the docks. Yes, he would. He would have done it even if Holmes hadn't threatened him...Dammit...He kicked a pebble into the water. He hated it when he did that.
He waved at Cunders who just nodded back, rolled up his sleeves, and began to help unload a cargo ship that had just docked, making sure that he was facing towards the pier next to them so he could keep an eye on things. As he was struggling trying to unload a huge crate two times his sizes, Jon happened to glance over at the pier, just in time to see someone disappear inside the factory at the end of it. His heart skipped a beat, but unfortunately his crate went sliding off the boat and landed with a loud crash onto the dock. He winced and ducked behind another crate as Cunders came storming over and blamed another worker for it, who of course refused but was stuck with the blame anyway. Jon peered over the box and watched as the man walked away with Cunders, probably to talk about pay cuts.
Jon heaved a sigh of relief and turned back to the next pier. The heavy metal door looked like it was firmly shut, and smoke had begun to rise from its pipes. He glanced shiftily around, took another glance at the receding back of his boss, and quickly slipped off the barge and down onto the lower dock. He dodged through the shadows and coon came up to the factory pier. With his heart thumping in his chest, he slunk over the platform and made his way over to the building and moved over to the door.
He frowned as he spied a huge padlock attached to it and was about to turn away when he decided that it would be a good idea to pull on it anyway. And to his surprise...it was still locked. He scowled at the accursed thing, and then spotted a window about two stories up. It was open and just wide enough for a skinny person such as himself to squeeze through.
Jon grinned happily and climbed quickly up a huge stack of cargo crates that lined the side of the factory until he ran out of boxes and found that he was still a good one to two meters away from the window. He frowned uncertainly and tested the boxes to see if they would hold his weight. Discovering that they were pretty stable, he leapt up at the window, and just managed to grab onto the sill with three fingers of his left hand. He was about to let go and try again when the stack of boxes wavered and fell out from beneath his feet. He swore and struggled to get a firm grip with his right hand, not particularly wanting to fall about ten meters.
He had been able to hoist his body up and was just about to pull his legs through, when the side door swung open and a man came out to see what was going out. Jon heard the door swing open and waved his hands in the air, trying to pull his legs through so that whoever it was wouldn't find half a body sticking out of the window. He was actually able to do it and jumped down to a catwalk inside the building that was hanging over rows of packaging and processing machinery. He heard the side door slam again, and watched pressed against the wall as a man walked in and over to a large room in the far side of the factory. Peering closer, Jon was able to recognize the man immediately. It was Striecher, that bastard that had almost shot him! So Holmes was right after all...Jon frowned. It wasn't fair, he was always right.
He scrambled on his hands and knees cautiously down the catwalk, trying to ignore the thunderous grinding noises of the machines below him and followed Striecher from above, watching curiously as the man as he strode over to another guy who was sitting in a chair set along the wall reading a book with his feet set up on a small desk. He tried to listen in on their conversation but the whirring of the machines completely drowned it out. Jon shook his head and carefully made his way back over to the window again, and sat on the edge, just then remembering that he had knocked the boxes over. He kicked himself mentally and looked desperately around. There was no way that he was going back in, not from the way he had positioned himself on the sill, so there was really only one option.
Jon glanced around for a soft landing, wishing for a cartload of hay or clothes. However, the only thing he was able to spot was a cartload of garbage. He slouched his shoulders, then sighed and rolled his eyes. The things I do for the case...He leapt down and flailing his arms through the air, landed ungracefully in the pile of trash. He shook a piece of old lettuce off his head and climbed out of the cart, brushing off his coat and pants, and his hair.
He was about to walk back to his pier to get back to work, when the man who had gotten stuck with the blame for his mistake earlier saw him, pointed, and shouted for Cunders. Jon swore again and slapped his forehead as his boss rushed over and even from that far away, a sinking feeling fell into Jon's stomach as he watched Cunders' face grow red and yelled out his name. He heaved a sigh, stuck his hands deep into his pockets and walked sullenly over to the pier. Holmes was going to be sorry for this...
***That night, at 221B Baker Street***
Holmes sat next to the fire in a robe puffing on his pipe while Watson sat in his favorite armchair reading a book that he had uncovered in Holmes' collection about the British exploration of India, and nearly fell out of his chair when the front door slammed and a very irate looking Jon stalked into the room.
Holmes raised his eyebrows, "I expected you to be here an hour ago. Come then, what did you find out?"
A flush appeared on the fifteen year old's face, "Oh, excuse me! I was just discussing a pay cut with my boss, who decided to give it to me after a rat snitched me out after seeing me fall from a second story window!"
Watson wrinkled his nose, "What is that rancid stench?"
Jon scowled, "That's the garbage that I had to land in."
Holmes tried to his a small smile, "Well you shouldn't have gotten caught in the first place. Now, what did you learn."
Jon sighed, giving up for the time being, "Well, for starters, I learned that Striecher really is working at the factory, just like you said he was...and not much else..."
Holmes frowned, "Well, what was he doing there?"
"Nothing really, he just walked inside, spoke to another man, but I couldn't hear what they were saying so I left."
"Did you go back afterwards?"
"I couldn't! Cunders was watching me like a hawk! I couldn't even blink without him noticing."
He raised an eyebrow, "It is not my fault you made a mistake. Now, tomorrow you will go back there and learn something that will be of some use to us."
The flush appeared again, "I won't do nothing more for you!"
Watson frowned concernedly, "Are you sure? Don't you remember Holmes' threat?"
"Ya, but I don't care. It's not worth it..."
Holmes smiled, "Are you sure?"
Jon turned to him surprised, "What?"
"Why, I had just thought that you would like the chance of helping to solve this case. But we do not necessarily require you to do the investigation yourself if you are afraid of getting caught..."
Jon scowled, "Now wait a minute, I didn't say I was afraid..."
Holmes interrupted him before he could rant on, "Tomorrow you can take Watson and I to the docks and help us get onto the pier. We will take it from there."
Watson nodded thoughtfully, "That would actually work out much better. Holmes, you would be able to get a first-hand encounter with the situation and the case will be solved sooner, and Jon, you will not have to fear losing your job."
"I'm not afraid of losing my job...!"
Holmes nodded briskly, and waved him out the door, "Of course you do not, but now, Watson and I have a lot of planning to do. You should head home and get some sleep, I have a feeling that tomorrow will be a big day for you."
Jon was herded out the door and it closed quickly behind him. He shook his head angrily. But then realized that they had let him continue to work with them. A happy, strange, feeling rose into his chest and he scowled. They had given him what he wanted after all...that means he still couldn't hate them...Dammit...
A/N: Well, I had fun with this chapter. Sorry it's mostly from Jon's POV, but I kinda had fun with it. Don't worry, the rest of the chapters won't be like this, I promise...