AN: Chapter Four, hurray! Not only did this one kicked my butt, but real life got all squirrelly and this update took forever. My most profound apologies for that, and if any of you are still with me, I'll do my best to make sure that doesn't happen again.
In other news, as promised, a real introduction of Holmes and Watson.
Still looking for a beta, you can still reach me at GoblinQueenie on AIM and YIM and goblinqueenie at gmail dot com.
Hope you like it!
Chapter Four
"Holmes, please," a round, avuncular voice reprimanded mildly.
The scientist blushed and stepped aside to allow Angel and Torres to enter.
"I'm sorry, Doctor, but I thought you said two detectives," Holmes said, sounding bored. He was much like the Paget illustrations, tall and slender with a long face and prominent cheekbones. Color didn't make much of a difference; he was still pallid with unremarkable dark hair.
Watson was slightly shorter and, like his voice, softer and friendlier, his bright eyes set in an open face. His hair was sandy and as neatly kept as the rest of him- he obviously cared about his physical presentation and the effect it had on others. The effect was pleasant.
Angel looked at Torres nervously and attempted to speak before she had a chance to fire back a retort of her usual charm.
It was too late.
"If we're to work together I suggest you learn our names. Being called detective always makes me feel as though I live in a dime store mystery novel."
Two sets of eyebrows raised, Holmes and poor Watson's. The good doctor was certainly out of sorts and was perfectly willing to show it. "I say," he began, "are they really letting the, ah, fairer sex into the police force?"
"Things have changed quite a bit," Angel said. "The New York City Police Department is an equal opportunity employer. Meaning that any gender, race or social class can be hired."
"Truth," Holmes said in the same bored and haughty tone, "is once again stranger than fiction."
This time both the scientist and Angel jumped in.
"You must be wondering what I wanted to speak to you about."
"So, Doc, what's the deal?"
Both men stopped and the scientist chuckled. "Great minds, eh?"
"Sure," Angel agreed.
"Forgive me for skipping introductions. We all got so, uh, carried away." He glanced around the room expectantly then continued without receiving whatever sort of response he'd anticipated. "I'm Tobias Gray, you both now Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson. Mr. Holmes, Doctor, this is David Angel," here Angel smiled pleasantly, "And Ravenna Torres."
Silence fell again. Finally Torres said, "Dr. Gray, I believe you were going to tell us why we were here?"
"Indeed I was. I wasn't sure if you knew that you were getting the real pair, not the clones."
Surprise registered on both police officers' faces.
"I see you didn't. Well, neither the company nor the police department were interested in waiting for the clones to mature on their own, what with the risk of their minds being fundamentally different from the originals. So we pulled a neat time travel trick, if I do say so myself. But I'll explain that in a moment. The point is, that since they aren't regular clones they can't be educated as though they were."
"We all know 'brain downloads', or whatever the actual term is, don't really suit the delicate mature of a conscious and working mind," Torres said, impatience winning over self-control
"Right."
"If I may interrupt?" Holmes began dryly. "I hardly know what this 'download' is, but why can't we be educated as are doppelgangers were?"
"You see, Mr. Holmes, with the clones their minds were empty and inactive which meant that the input of data, namely your and Dr. Watson's memories, interfered with no internal workings. Conditions in your minds are quite the opposite."
"I see. Pray continue."
"Where was I?" Dr. Gray wondered aloud.
"I believe you were about to tell us that acculturating them was going to be done the long way and with frequent visits here," Torres supplied.
"Good heavens, I don't remember getting that far," Gray said, flustered.
"Pipe down, Torres," Angel whispered.
"What? I don't want to lose the whole day to this," she hissed back.
Holmes smirked and said, "Perhaps law enforcement has learned to recognize the importance of deduction."
"I'd say you have yourself a rival, dear boy," Watson chuckled, but it seemed forced.
"Oh, hardly that."
At that, Angel laughed.
Torres, much to his surprise, said mildly, "An inference, Mr. Holmes, not a deduction. Bit of a difference." The smirk disappeared entirely at her remark.
"Officer Torres, please," Gray protested, distressed.
Angel pitied him and changed the subject with, "Are you to be doing this by hypnosis, then, or immersion?"
"Hypnosis, I think," Gray said, recovering. "To begin with. It seems safer that way. I was going to explain the process then set up the first session. Unfortunately, I wasn't expecting you and your partner to arrive so soon. There's a lounge nearby, I can show you," he paused and tapped several 'keys' on a touch screen. The door opened again, revealing a green line on the floor traveling down the hallway. "I'll come get you when we're all done here."
"Thanks, Doc," Angel said, pulling Torres out of the door by one arm. Once they were outside, he glared at her. "What the hell is the matter with you?"
"Whatever," she said with a dismissive wave.
"No, seriously, what's your trauma? Can't you behave for five minutes?"
"No. Now, if we're going to argue about this, can't we do it in a semblance of privacy, instead of the damn hallway?" she asked rhetorically, already following the runner down the hall.
Angel heaved a martyr like sigh and followed her.
To call the room they were led to a 'lounge' was a bit of an exaggeration. It proved to be little more than several plastic chairs and a coffeepot on a matching plastic table. Once the door closed behind them, Angel said, "Private?"
"Enough."
"The hell?"
Angel and Torres had known each other and had worked closely together long enough that speech could be stripped down to the bare essentials.
"He's an asshat," she said with a shrug, pouring them coffee.
"Whatever. You were looking for a fight the minute you walked in the door. People say stupid things to you all the time and you can usually manage not to be a harpy if you want to."
"Look, Angel, just 'cause this guy was your childhood hero doesn't mean that he's not an asshat.
Rolling his eyes, he said, "That aside, would it kill you to be the least bit professional?"
"Maybe. Come of it, Angel, don't give me that professionalism bull. I'm not going to kowtow to his Detective-ness back there, no matter how much you or Gray want me to."
"Just as a favor to me, try, please try, to turn down the bitch level from eleven."
"If he acts like less of an asshat, sure."
Angel sat down abruptly into one of the chairs. "You say asshat way too much."
"I can't come up with a better description of him, can you?"
"Never mind. God, I hope you two kill each other."
Torres snorted. "At least I don't have to worry about that."
"Why not?"
"Victorians. Too moronic to know when someone's plotting their death. So, I'll be sure to get to him first."
"Wait now, too moronic?"
"How do you think homeboy in there earned his bread?"
"Heh. Homeboy."
"Shut up."
AN: Man. That was rough. I really want to know what ya'll think, now that the cast is just about assembled. Did I write Holmes and Watson in a passable way? Are Angel and Torres stupid fluff characters that ought to get out of the way? Please let me know, so I can continue tweaking.
As always, constructive criticism and all comments are welcome.