Chapter Nineteen

Careless Deceit

Jacqueline didn't even blink when Erascus changed the prescription of nasty night pills that week. If he had truly known what was happening, he would have surely been even more furious, Jacqueline knew. Of course, she didn't dream every night. But the dreams did seem to come more steadily on Mondays and Thursday nights, tossing and turning as she always did dreading the days that followed them. Not that the dreams ever made any sense, and nearly all of them were nightmares.

She had been at a party, of which everyone there had blurry faces, not quite focused. But when she tried hard to recognize someone, Mycroft was there, bowing slightly with an almost expressionless face as he asked her to dance. Did she know how? She supposed she did, she realized, gliding across the floor feeling his arm around her waist. He gazed at her so intensely… a fire behind his eyes that she'd never seen before and felt herself grow warm, wondering if it would go on forever. Finally they stopped and he handed her a drink taking a sip of his own. But the moment she did, Jacqueline began to see strange black spots and felt dizzy, several shouts calling out a name she didn't recognize as she hit the ground. But although she knew she was unconscious, she suddenly found herself standing above herself, and the boy from the other dream was there, watching.

"Don't worry, you're not dead," the dark-haired boy said. "Just nearly. And you're not the only one," he added.

But before she could turn and ask him to explain, she opened her eyes, cursing softly that she couldn't see what happened next. She glanced up to notice Mark, standing in the kitchen. He was fiddling with the coffee pot, but was watching her intently. How obvious was it getting now that she was dreaming?

And so, when Erascus asked her, Jacqueline admitted she hadn't been sleeping well on certain nights. His reaction had been immediate, so had his insistence that she take that night off whether she wanted to or not.

Above the café, Mycroft had been pacing his room restlessly, glancing at the mirror once more before turning to go the other way. It was a simple enough spell to make a mirror that could see around a corner; and Mycroft had it pointed to the office building beside them, wondering what was taking so long.

The dread that came across her face whenever she thought of or talked about Erascus worried him more and more as time went on, as did the troublesome comments from others around the café that Erascus himself had seemed more on edge of late. He suspected something, Mycroft was quite sure, and the idea of letting her walk into the lion's cage again went against every instinct he had. But he knew he had no choice but to let her; trying to stop it before she was ready would be disastrous.

At last he saw movement from the corner of his eye and glanced over to see Jacqueline come out of the office. But instead of heading to the café as she normally did, she walked towards home. Mycroft frowned, knowing what he had to do but not sure if he should. Erascus would certainly be watching, but probably only the door, Mycroft mused. In less than an instant, Mycroft was gone from his room and was stepping out of a rather questionable elevator onto the second floor of the apartment building, matching the doors to their corresponding balconies.

Collapsed on the couch, Jacqueline jumped in surprise when there was a knock. She reluctantly went over to check, half expecting Erascus to be on the other side. Peering out the peephole in disbelief, she finally opened the door.

"Professor! How did you get in here? How did you find me?" Jacqueline asked letting him in.

"I have a talent for getting into places when I need to," Mycroft said evenly. "Your appointment took longer than usual. I was afraid that your friends might be concerned unless someone checked on you."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Jacqueline said bitterly, sitting down again. "Erascus called them and told them I needed another night off a week. He said he is concerned about my safety as well as my recent stress levels and suggested I take tonight off. As if 'suggested' is the appropriate word. Why is it that my losing my memories seems to make everyone feel like they have the right to treat me like a child?"

"I do not," Mycroft said expressionlessly. Jacqueline's shoulders relaxed a bit and a small smile crept in.

"You're right, I'm sorry," she said, grabbing a few extra pillows off the couch so he could sit as well, throwing them behind it. "What do you mean by having a talent for getting into places when you need to?"

"Please tell me we're not going to get into that again. And may I ask just what I did to deserve this undivided scrutiny of yours?" Mycroft challenged.

"I'm not sure what you mean. I was only asking," Jacqueline said defensively. Mycroft slowly shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Do you question Mark this way?"

"Um, well, sometimes, I suppose," Jacqueline admitted. "What's wrong with asking someone to clarify what they said?"

"What about Erascus?" Mycroft persisted.

"No," Jacqueline admitted. For some reason that admission was as hard as the first. "I found out early on that asking him questions only kept me in the apartment longer, so for the most part, I don't. Look, Kingler's Café… it's all I have to look forward to. When I'm home, I don't feel at home. I hate going to Erascus, and except for an hour now and then at the grocer's, I have nowhere else to go. I can't risk losing that, and as tense as things have been getting..." Jacqueline stood up, walking around the room a bit.

"Sometimes I just wish I could get away from here, as far and fast as I can get myself; somewhere Erascus and Mark can't find me so that I can live my own life. But every time I try to stretch a bit, something tells me to back off, to be careful… that something is going to snap that shouldn't and Erascus will know. I'm afraid of him, Professor, although frankly I'm not sure I completely understand why. To hear Rob and Sally talk, I should be able to just walk away any time that I'd like. And yet I feel like if I do, I may never be able to get my freedom back." she sighed, sitting down again. "There I go, rambling again. I suppose none of that made sense at all."

"No," Mycroft said quietly. "It made perfect sense."

"Really?" Jacqueline said, looking over at him. He nodded slowly. "Perhaps that's why I still talk to you even though you lie to me so much."

"I don't lie to you," Mycroft said stiffly. "I may omit a few things, but that's hardly lying."

"Well at least you admit that much. What about that bat?" Jacqueline demanded.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You told me you didn't have a bat, but I saw one go into one of the rooms above the café. I asked Sally which room was yours, and I know it's the right one." Jacqueline said, folding her arms.

"I believe you asked me if I had seen any unusual bats. I had not; as he is not unusual to me, and even so, I also admit that I am no real expert on them. If you are asking if he is mine, he is not. Ratfly was my wife's. Care to meet him?" Mycroft suggested. He adjusted a silvery chain around his neck as he went over to the patio door, glancing out for a moment to make sure it wasn't being watched.

"Meet him?" Jacqueline repeated in surprise, getting up to follow. Sliding the door open, Mycroft held out his arm, and within no time the large bat had swept into the room and over to Mycroft's arm, complaining loudly. Jacqueline took a wary step backwards.

"He is a bit grouchy when I wake him," Mycroft admitted. "You know, perhaps I had better give him to you."

"Me?" Jacqueline said, looking at the bat warily. But as Mycroft grabbed her hand and held it out, Ratfly immediately came to her, clinging to her arm. At first Jacqueline didn't breathe, but after a moment when nothing alarming happened she smiled nervously. "What sort of name is Ratfly anyhow?"

"She got it as a present as a girl, just before she got out of school. I suppose at the time she thought it was amusing," Mycroft said, watching them carefully as she tried to get used to it clinging there, petting it gently, handing her a cherry to give him.

"He's enormous for a bat, isn't he?" Jacqueline said as it grabbed tightly onto her arm, settling upside down contentedly.

"No, I believe some of these can get a great deal larger," Mycroft said, his voice sounding strange. Jacqueline looked up curiously at the forlorn look on his face.

"What is it? Is something wrong?" Jacqueline asked concernedly, but he shook his head, the look fading into a weak smile. She glanced at the bat again. "Do you know, I believe he fell asleep," she said, peering at him. "What a rather uncomfortable looking position! Not too comfortable for my arm either," she chuckled.

"He hasn't been sleeping well lately," Mycroft said, gently waking the bat and getting him to move over to him. "He's not the only one with all that racket outside," he added, walking the bat back over to the patio.

"Count me into that number," Jacqueline sighed.

"Now, see? Everything's going to be all right. Why don't you go in where it's warm and find somewhere to nap?" Mycroft told the bat. As if it had understood, it flew over to the other building, tilting nearly sideways to make it cleanly in the open window. "Maybe he'll finally get some sleep."

"Poor thing. He must miss her," Jacqueline said.

"Yes, as do I," Mycroft admitted. He glanced back at Jacqueline, who looked rather uncomfortable, not knowing what to say. "So Erascus is making you stay home because he thinks you are overly stressed, does he?"

"Oh, yes, so he says," Jacqueline said, heading to the kitchen to get them something to drink, taking her pills out of her coat to put in the cabinet. "And he gave me a new night prescription."

"Mind if I look at it?"

"Not at all, it's not if I plan on taking them. Not now," Jacqueline said, filling the cups with ice.

"So you are dreaming more then?" Mycroft asked, trying to figure out how to get the bottle open.

"More like nightmares," Jacqueline said, finally taking the bottle and twisting the safety lock for him, handing it back. "At least, they would be, if it wasn't for the boy."

"Boy?" Mycroft frowned, palming one of the pills and handing it back. "Tell me about them."

"They're nothing really, I mean, nothing that makes any sense," Jacqueline said, leaning on the counter with a sigh. "Mostly they're about me being trapped. Like the dream I told you about where I felt like I couldn't wake up, or the one I had where I thought I had woken up but I was buried alive like in an unmarked grave. Then last night it was poison, playing out like a bad mystery drama with me standing beside my body and not being able to do a thing about it. They're all like that. I suppose it's just showing my frustration of not remembering anything."

"Perhaps," Mycroft said softly, his face still expressionless. "What about this boy you spoke of?" Suddenly he looked up, noticing a ruckus from Ratfly just outside. "Someone's here," he said, going over to the window. Jacqueline quickly hurried over to look as well, peeking out just to see a suit and a briefcase enter the building.

"Great, it's Mark. What is he doing home early? Um, Professor…" she turned to look beside her, but he wasn't there. She spun around in surprise staring at the door, which was still closed. "Professor?" She glanced in the bathroom just as the handle turned, then stepped out again as casually as she could as Mark came in, risking a glance out the balcony door as she passed it. Just then she noticed the silhouette of someone in Mycroft's window and did a double take, the shadow quickly disappearing out of view.

"Hi, Jackie! How are you feeling?" Mark said, going over to her and kissing her on the cheek with a gentle hug.

"Um, fine," she said quickly before following him into the kitchen. "Although a bit frustrated. I was really looking forward to working tonight."

"Well, for once I agree with Erascus. You have been high strung lately and sometimes downright impossible," he said, going over to the fridge, staring at something on the counter.

"Well you aren't exactly easy to live with either, you know," Jacqueline teased back.

"Why are there two glasses of ice on the counter?" Mark asked.

"Oh! I forgot!" Jacqueline said, pushing her way over to the fridge to get out the pitcher. "I saw you coming and was going to get us both some lemonade."

"Then why were you by the window when I came in?"

"I wanted to see what was taking so long," Jacqueline said, finishing the task. She turned to find him standing at the patio door looking out. "Do you want something to drink or not?"

"How come all the pillows are tossed around?" Mark said, still suspicious.

"I was getting ready to take a nap!" Jacqueline said with exasperation. "What else am I supposed to do since I'm not working?"

"Well, maybe we can talk about where we're going on Friday? I was thinking either a show, or shopping, or how about I take you to Rockefeller center? Do you know how to ice skate?" he asked.

"You would that know more than I would, wouldn't you?" Jacqueline challenged. Mark shifted a bit.

"Look, we're getting off badly here. You do need to relax a bit. Why don't I get us some real drinks and we can grab a blanket, sit on the couch, and watch something on T.V., your pick. I promise I won't argue no matter what you choose," he promised, going over to rub her shoulders. "Ooo, you are tense."

"I think I'm just going to turn in early. Mind if I take the bed?" Jacqueline said, shrugging away.

"If you really feel that way," Mark sighed. "Don't forget your medicine…"

"I already took it," Jacqueline snapped. She grabbed a book off the shelf, slamming the door behind her and locking it. Putting down his drink, Mark went to the cabinet and counted her pills, relaxing slightly but still staring thoughtfully at the glass in his hand.