Disclaimer: I own Rhodes(haha!), Bridges, Laney, Solomon, and any other characters I may throw in there. 'The Dying Detective', however, is not mine. Thank Sir Doyle for that.
Down the Rabbit Hole
a modern Sherlock Holmes fanfiction by Wakizashi
Chapter Five: Nadia's Evidence
----
I awoke in sheer bliss.
At first I wasn't sure where I was. With my eyes closed, I was only aware of a warm, comforting presence beside me. And then, sluggishly, my other senses began to kick in. First to return to me was smell: the scent of clean skin and hair filled my nostrils, and I inhaled deeply. Next came sound. I became aware of the soothing, barely audible sound of another person breathing somewhere near my ear. The rhythmic noises were, oddly enough, perfectly in time with my heartbeat.
Finally I opened my eyes. The early morning light was muted, and it cast pale stripes across the big oak bed. I stared a while at those patches of light, distorted by the wrinkles in the bedclothes. Then my gaze shifted to the figure slumbering peacefully in the circle of my arms.
Ethan Nicholas Rhodes was the very picture of contentment. His shaggy head was tucked under my chin, and his full lips were parted just enough to allow his feather-soft breaths to flit across my neck. One white arm was draped lazily over my stomach, and I didn't have to pull back the covers to know that his long legs were entangled in mine.
If only I woke up like this every morning.
Exhaling a sigh of pure joy, I reached up and ran a hand through his soft dark hair. In response, he burrowed his face further into my neck, and as his uncomfortably warm skin touched mine, I was reminded of his illness. With another, less blissful sigh, I felt his forehead with the back of my hand. Was he ever going to get better?
As soon as my fingers brushed against his brow, Rhodes' bright green eyes fluttered open. They swiveled around in brief confusion, taking in our closer-than-usual proximity to each other, before becoming filled with recognition as he remembered the events of the previous night. His cheeks flushed slightly in embarrassment, and he chewed on his bottom lip, as if unsure what to say.
I smiled, deciding to relieve him of his discomfiture. "Hey," I said simply, removing my hand from his forehead.
He returned my smile, albeit a little sheepishly. "Good morning," he replied in a drowsy voice. He hesitated for a moment, then continued. "I'm... sorry about last night, Bridges. I'm afraid I didn't act with as much prudence as I should have."
"Come on, Rhodes," I gently chided. "Quit feeling so mortified about the whole thing. We both know you only did what you did because you were so cold." I chose to forget how livid I had been when he had fallen asleep, after coming so close to kissing me. "It's okay, really," I assured him. "I completely understand."
Rhodes simply stared at me, his eyebrows drawing together in distress. If I hadn't put the idea far from my mind, I would have sworn he almost looked guilty. "Do you?" he asked quietly.
I didn't exactly know how to answer, so instead I nodded slowly, slightly unsettled.
He cleared his throat, shifting his position restlessly. "Well then, I hope you don't mind, but I feel the irrepressible urge to take a shower. There's something about being ill that constantly makes one feel unclean."
"I know what you mean," I replied with a somewhat forced laugh. Boy, was this awkward. If only he had slept for just another five hours.
For all his talk about wanting a shower, Rhodes sure did lie there for a long time. It seemed to me as if he was uncomfortable with being so close to me, but not uncomfortable enough to leave. A disconcerting thought.
Finally I forced him into action by sitting up myself and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. "Guess I'll leave you to your own devices for a while," I said as I stood up, cringing as my bare feet touched the cold wood floor. "I'll be downstairs if you..." Good God, I almost said 'if you want me'. "If you need anything," I finished lamely.
Taking the hint to get his butt in gear, Rhodes climbed slowly out of bed, a little reluctant to leave his warm nest. He stood up and stretched his arms languidly over his head. Afterward he stood there for a moment, his brow creased in thought. "What day is it?" he asked.
His sincere question took me slightly aback. "December twenty-sixth," I answered cautiously. "Yesterday was Christmas, remember?" I frowned. "Are you okay?"
He blinked for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, I'm fine. My mind is a little fuzzy, is all."
Uh-oh, I thought. If his fever didn't go down soon, he could very well become delirious. The last time Rhodes had not been in control of his mental faculties was in the ambulance two years ago, the night he had been shot. I had no desire to be reminded of what it had been like.
"Rhodes, I don't know what's wrong with you, but whatever it is, I think it's getting worse," I said worriedly, to his visible annoyance. "In any case, you're not getting better. As much as it pains me to admit it, I think Laney's right. You need a doctor."
He closed his eyes and blew air out through his nostrils. "Don't start up with this again, Bridges, I beg you," he said irritably.
"I have no choice, Rhodes," I replied firmly, folding my arms over my chest. "Look at you! You're wracked with shivers, you can't keep anything down, and your fever hasn't broken. Normally I'd be happy to agree with your request, but you're not thinking clearly."
"You're overreacting," he retorted impatiently.
"No, I'm not," I said crossly. He was really ticking me off now. "For God's sake, you can't even remember what day it is, and you're trying to reason with me? I'm not overreacting, Rhodes. I'm just worried."
This remark was met by a long silence. I turned away from him, staring pointedly at the opposite wall. After a while I felt Rhodes come up behind me and place his hand on my shoulder. His touch was gentle, almost intimate. I shrugged it off angrily.
"Bridges, please," he said gently.
"No," I said in a low voice. "No, Rhodes. You always soothe me, to try to sucker me into getting you what you want. You take advantage of me, Rhodes, and I hate it. I'm not going to take it anymore."
I said it before I could stop myself. I said it, and I knew from the tone of his voice that it had cut him. "Is that really how you feel?" he asked. "That I take advantage of you?"
My jaw tightened. "Yes."
There was another silence, and then a whispered "Oh God, Bridges."
I said nothing in reply, and Rhodes drew in a ragged breath. He tried to touch my shoulder again, but I jerked it off instantly. "For God's sake, Bridges, don't cringe from me like I have leprosy," he said beseechingly. "Will you please look at me?"
I didn't move, but I allowed Rhodes to turn me around to face him, though I remained as stiff as a wooden doll. As I raised my gaze to his, I was shocked and even alarmed by what I saw in his eyes. He looked heartbroken; almost to the point of being physically injured. "Bridges," he said in an unsteady voice. "You're my closest friend; my only true friend. I would never deliberately hurt you. If I did... I would want to die."
At this I felt a large obstruction in my throat. Never had I met a man who valued his friends as much as Rhodes did; it was probably because his friends had been so rare in his life. It made me feel sick after what I had said to him, after how I had made him feel. But it was true, the way he treated me sometimes. If he wanted something, or wanted me to change my opinion, all he had to do was turn on the charm. It usually worked, and I was tired of caving in.
But his dejected words brought tears to my eyes. I could tell he was sincere; he didn't mean to hurt me.
"Oh, Rhodes," I said with a defeated sigh. "I know you didn't do it on purpose."
With what could only be called relief, Rhodes held out his arms, and I let him draw me into his embrace. I smiled and rested my head against his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his gray cotton shirt. With one hand on the small of my back, long fingers splayed, he reached up with his other hand and stroked my hair. "I'm sorry," he murmured.
I craned my neck to smile up at him. "I know," I answered.
Brushing my hair away from my face, Rhodes leaned down and pressed his lips to my forehead. My eyes fluttered closed involuntarily, and when I opened them his face was still close to mine. His long lashes could not conceal the longing that darkened his eyes. Slowly, he leaned in again and kissed my temple, and then my cheek, dangerously close to the corner of my mouth.
With each kiss it became harder for me to remember that he already had a girlfriend. She was an annoying, snotty, manipulative girlfriend, but a girlfriend nonetheless. And seconds before those warm, searching lips found their way to mine, logic returned, and I pushed Rhodes away.
"I can't," I said, my voice sounding hoarse. His heart was pounding under my hand. "What about Laney?"
"What about her?" he asked dumbly. Then reality came crashing down around him, and he stepped back abruptly, his pale face flushed with humiliation. He took a deep breath, passing his hands over his face. "I'm so sorry, Bridges, good God. I don't know what I was thinking." He avoided my gaze, as if ashamed to make eye contact. "I can't believe what I was doing; what I almost did." He shook his head violently. "I... I-it must be the fever. You're right, Bridges. I'm not thinking clearly."
"No, now you're just rambling," I replied shakily, still trying to calm my own heart.
Rhodes reached out to touch my shoulder, but thought better of it and folded his hands under his arms. "I'm really very sorry," he said, though his apology was directed to his feet rather than at me.
"It's okay," I told him. My nervousness was gradually being replaced with a kind of numbness. "Just don't have a girlfriend the next time you get my hopes up."
At this his head snapped up sharply, and he stared at me with wide eyes. "What?"
I shook my head. "Go take a shower," I said flatly. "And make it a cold one."
Embarrassed and dejected and badly confused, Rhodes did as he was told. As he stepped past me, his arm brushed against mine, and the contact was pure electricity. I tried to ignore it, but it was impossible. It was obvious that Rhodes noticed it as well; he lingered there for a moment before continuing out the door, leaving me to stew in my own misery.
----
This is all his fault, I thought a little childishly as I sat on the floor in the middle of the living room, listening to the water running in the bathroom above me. However childish, though, it was true: if Rhodes hadn't dropped this bombshell on me about a new girlfriend - who had nothing in common with him, by the way - I probably would have already confessed my feelings... Okay, my love for him.
But now, thanks to this third wheel that had flounced her way into our lives, that was no longer an option. I was going to either have to watch them get married or wait until Rhodes figured out that he was making a huge mistake.
Or did he already know? I wondered, frowning. Upstairs, when he had all but started making out with me, he hadn't even been thinking about Laney. What kind of a guy would completely disregard how his girlfriend might feel about him being too friendly with another woman, unless he didn't have feelings for his girlfriend? And if that was the case, why was he even with her?
Would someone please tell me what was going on?
As I was in the process of trying to figure out what exactly I was missing, the doorbell rang. Cringing at the thought that it might be Laney, I briefly considered climbing out the kitchen window, but I wasn't too keen about landing in the juniper bushes below. I was relieved, however, when I heard a familiar and not unwelcome voice outside the door.
"Rhodes! Hey! You alive in there?"
I smiled wryly at the coarse voice and stood up, noticing I wasn't very appropriately dressed for the season. Then I decided I was too grumpy to care, and I went to the door and swung it open. "Morning, Ed," I said dully.
FBI Agent Edward Solomon raised his grizzled eyebrows at my presence. "Nadia," he returned, trying to appear inconspicuous about staring at my legs and failing miserably. "Glad to see you got all gussied up for me."
"Any time," I replied, giving him a sour look.
"So," he continued, easing his pudgy frame past me into the foyer, "how's the kid? Is he doing any better?"
I shook my head as I closed the door against the frigid weather outside. "Nope, no improvement, and won't you come in?" There was a sarcastic quality to my voice, but in truth I was almost glad to see the balding FBI agent. He wasn't bad, if you looked past the incompetence, lewdness, and abrasive personality. Besides, at this point I welcomed any distraction, good or bad.
I encouraged him to take a seat, and Solomon wedged himself into the papasan chair by the window. As he reached forward to fiddle with one of the coasters on the coffee table, I took a seat on the futon couch. "Is that why you came here?" I asked him. "To see if Rhodes was feeling better?"
Solomon gave a noncommittal cough in reply, and I smiled knowingly. "Ah, I see. A repeat incident of your visit to the hospital after his injury."
"Cut it out," he growled, and I obediently shut up. "Where is he, anyway?"
"Upstairs, taking a shower." Solomon merely nodded in response. Two years ago, I would have expected him to say something like, "Why aren't you in there with him?" After it became clear that Rhodes and I were friends and nothing more, however, he finally stopped holding on to the belief that we were having a hot, steamy love affair.
"The other reason I stopped by," he said with an amused expression on his face, "was to see if Rhodes hadn't driven you crazy yet. You probably don't know this, but he got laryngitis a couple years before you moved here and refused to see a doctor. He couldn't even talk, and he still drove me nuts." He snickered at the remembrance.
I snorted. "Yeah, sounds just like what he's doing now. If anything, his condition has drastically declined, and he still won't let me call a doctor." I leaned forward and rested my chin on my hands. "He's really starting to irritate me. I can't figure out what his problem is."
"Stubborn, that's what." Solomon set down the coaster and looked at me carefully. "But it seems to me that's not what's bugging you."
"What are you babbling about?" I asked derisively.
"Come on, Nadia," he said, unfazed. "You're as transparent as a plate glass window. I can tell something's got you down, and it sure as hell ain't got nothing to do with Rhodes' sickness."
Despite his terrible grammar, Solomon sure knew what he was talking about. I sighed and shook my head. "Your ability to read my countenance is uncanny, Ed. But I'm not sure I feel comfortable talking to you about this."
"Oh, you mean about your thing for Rhodes?"
I sat up instantly, my back ramrod-straight, and then realized with a surge of fury that Solomon had not been serious in his guess. And I had just blown my cover. My cheeks burned with embarrassment as the agent slapped his knee, howling with laughter.
"Aw, damn, I was just kidding!" he exclaimed, clearly pleased with his own bit of deduction. "Well well, the truth comes out. Can't say it comes as a total surprise."
"And what is that supposed to mean?" I asked defensively.
Solomon gave me a look that was disturbingly similar to that of a disappointed parent. "Please, kid, what do you think it means?" he said dryly. "You think I haven't noticed that in the two years that you and Rhodes have been partners, you haven't gone out on a single date? I'd say that's some indication of your feelings for him." Damn. He had a point there. "Why don't you just tell him? What do you got to lose?"
"Oh, I don't know, the best thing that's ever happened to me in my life," I snapped with a bitterness I hardly thought myself capable of. Then I sighed and shook my head. "I'm sorry, it's just... I was going to tell him. And then he went and got a girlfriend." I felt my eye twitch. "Can you imagine the nerve of him, telling me to meet him at the place we first met to introduce me to that little fakey... phony... fraud? God, what was he thinking? I would never--"
"Whoa, whoa, hey, back up a second," said Solomon, interrupting my tirade. "Rhodes has a girlfriend? When did this happen? Who is she?"
Apparently everyone else was as shocked at this sudden development as I was. "Her name is Gislaine LeFavre. She's a spoiled, manipulative brat and I have no idea what Rhodes sees in her. I can't even - what? What's wrong with you?"
Solomon's face had taken on a look of rare contemplation. "LeFavre," he repeated, his heavy brows knitted. "Where have I heard that name before?" Suddenly he snapped his fingers. "That's right! That case, three years ago. Gerard LeFavre. I think his daughter's name was Gislaine."
"And Laney for short?" I asked, leaning forward.
"Yeah, Laney LeFavre! She was pretty smokin'."
Choosing to ignore this, I said, "What do you remember about the case? What was LeFavre on trial for? How was Rhodes involved?"
"Keep the questions to one at a time, okay?" he replied irritably. "To answer your first question, I remember everything. This guy, Gerard LeFavre, was a big-time loan shark. People would come to him for hundreds of thousands, millions even, and he'd give it to them, no questions asked. But if they didn't come up with the money to reimburse him... well, let's just say he'd find other ways of making them pay."
"Like what?" I asked, repelled and interested at the same time.
Solomon scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. "Oh, he had a lot of methods. Took one guy's thumbs, burned another one's eyes out. I remember something about someone's pet dog being nailed to their front door. But mostly he prefered to do mutilations of... of the sexual kind."
My hand shot up involuntarily to cover my mouth. "Oh my God. That's awful."
"Yeah. Well, then one of the unfortunates' family members asked Rhodes to help catch him. He actually went in undercover and asked LeFavre for a loan himself. Got a taped statement of the guy saying what he'd do to Rhodes if he didn't pay him back."
I gaped at him, wondering why Rhodes had never told me any of this. I had thought that we were best friends, but apparently there were still things that he kept from me.
"Anyway, that was enough for an arrest warrant. And taped confessions are very persuasive in a courtroom. LeFavre was sentenced to seventy years without parole. You should have seen the way he looked at Rhodes when he found out he was a detective. Enough to scare a grown man like me."
"So that's what Laney meant when she said that Rhodes was the one who put her father in prison," I said pensively. "That guy must be stewing in his cell right now, imagining a thousand different ways to kill Rhodes."
"No, I'm pretty sure he's not." I raised an eyebrow at the agent, confused. "He's dead," he explained.
"What?" He nodded. "Are you serious? When did he die?"
"Just a couple of months ago, during a prison riot. He was holding a guard hostage, threatening to strangle him if they didn't let him go. One of the snipers took him out."
"Holy crap," I muttered, shivering despite the sweltering heat of the condo. "Laney must have been crushed..." Abruptly, my eyes widened. "Laney."
Solomon blinked. "Huh?"
It couldn't be coincidence. Everything was just too conventient. I squeezed my eyes shut, going over the sequence of events in my head. Rhodes sends Laney's father to prison. Laney's father is recently killed in prison. And now Rhodes and Laney are seeing each other. What reason could she possibly have for dating the man indirectly responsible for her father's death?
The answer was clear: revenge.
"Oh, God," I groaned, feeling the overwhelming urge to throw up.
"What? What's the matter?" Solomon was saying.
Suddenly I heard from above the sound of water being shut off. "Ed, you have to go," I said, standing up. "Right now. I'm sorry, but I really, really have to talk to Rhodes."
"Oh-ho," he replied with a devilish smirk as he hauled himself up out of the papasan chair. "Going to tell him the big news despite the fact that he's already seeing someone, huh? Don't worry, I won't stick around and cramp your style."
"No, no, that's not it at all," I said impatiently. I shot a quick glance up the stairs to make sure we were alone. "I think Rhodes is in danger."
----
A/N: Oookay, I hope that made up for the bajillion years that I was not able to update. It probably didn't, at ALL, but hey, at least not having the Internet didn't make me bitter, and make me stop writing. Can't stop writing, NEVER stop writing! Ahem. Anyway, at last there's actually some suspense in my story. I think lately it's been too much of the romance, and not enough of the mystery. Not that romance is bad, or that I don't enjoy writing it, but obviously, this story is in the Sherlock Holmes section, and therefore MUST have mystery.
So... if you're not too mad at me for going on hiatus, you can leave me a review. But I don't blame you if you don't.
-Wakizashi