Chapter 04

The 'townhouse' as he called it was in fact more along the lines of a manor. Complete with multiple stories, a beautiful turret section, wrought iron fence surrounding the 2+ acre property, and guard detail. "Wow…" Nova breathed out in appreciation, "It's like a fairy-tale house."

John/Sherlock gave a mild, quiet snort. A quirk of an eyebrow in her direction. She could practically hear him re-evaluate her maturity level. To her surprise, he didn't say anything derisive. Just a simple, even, "Thank you." Her evaluation of Sherlock Holmes would have included something tart and caustic as a reply.

As the guards – two by the gate and two patrolling the grounds that she could see – let them onto the property, John continued speaking. "I called my brother before we left. He should be meeting us, along with our private physician."

"I really do feel fine." Nova tried again, but even she could hear how small her voice sounded.

He inclined his head slightly. "As my future employer, I am concerned for your wellbeing. I would feel much better if I could have the assurance of a professional." The way he spoke…it was almost as if he was tailoring his words, tone, and body language to incite what he wanted, catering to whom he was speaking and the situation.

Though, that does fit with what I know of Sherlock Holmes. Both brothers' really… It's just another form of manipulation. Nova thought. His verbal repose had countered their objections so nicely that if they now continued, it would appear that they didn't care for his state of mind or well being. She sighed at that fact, nodding her own acquiescence. There was nothing else for it at this point. He'd painted them neatly into a corner.

However, she was going to try to insist upon something else, when she saw the doctor. Hopefully avoiding the blood issue completely.

When they entered the elegant foyer, a butler came up to take their coats, umbrellas (for it was Britain and they had learned long ago to always carry such a useful item), and tried to take their bags but both girls refused. Nova with a small smile, trying to be nice about it even as she gazed around the beautiful abode with appreciation.

It had elements of Victorian, Elizabethan, and Gothic parts. But it was still a harmonious assortment, blending neatly in such a way that the beginning of one could not be picked out with the end of the other. "Wow…" she breathed again, "…and I thought the outside was pretty."

A precisely male chuckle came from their left, making them turn in surprise. Mark Gatiss was standing with another male in an tailored coat. She would have said it was a standard white doctor's coat except that it was distinctly bespoke, had the name Dr. M Freeman stitched elegantly on the breast pocket, and a nice shade of light blue that brought out the man's eyes. It was the doctor whom had laughed. "I thought the same when I was first brought here." He came forward, holding out his hand in greeting. "Hello. Michael Freeman."

"Nova Morganson," she answered by habit, shaking his hand in turn.

"Ah, then you're my patient. Right this way please." His touch was professional, but gentle as he guided her to the side room, which turned out to be a parlor. He had already set up several pieces of equipment beside an old-style fainting couch. She didn't know how not to, so she sat down. He was very nice and had a wonderful bedside manner. She had a feeling that this doctor was the dimension's version of John Watson.

She recognized most from her step-mother's general practice clinic, but not all of it. There was a blood-pressure cuff. Ear looky thing. Eye looky thing. Heart listeny thing. As well as a horrible blood takey thing. "Please…I hate needles." Her voice was quiet, trying to sound vulnerable to provoke a – hopefully – protective reaction.

He quirked an eyebrow at her, but sat a moment in thought. As he pondered her request, he went through the motions of getting a baseline for the girl. Checking her pressure, temperature, pupil dilation, hearing, and various other little things that would create a whole picture of exactly how she was doing. The biggest at the moment was listening to her heart and lungs, given that he was told she had fallen into a bonfire. "I'd like to do a blood-gas and toxicology panel. It will give me a good idea of anything I may have missed." He tried to persuade her.

As any good doctor, he cared deeply about his patients. Even one he was being paid by someone else to treat. However, he was also intelligent enough that he had managed to get into the private sector as well, which paid much better. Though he did volunteer at a free clinic close to his flat most days, when he wasn't taking care of his main patients, he knew how the real world worked. The money he received for his private care went into his research. His research was how he had come to the attention of Mark Gatiss and John Altamont, brothers in all but blood.

Michael had found a cure for stage 1 Alzheimer's after years of painstaking research. However, at the moment it was still way too expensive and time-consuming to mass-produce. He had been able to cure a grand total of ten people so far. It just took so long to make the cure, and he couldn't make it in large batches either. Yet. The money he received from Gatiss and Altamont had been able to fund the last two years of his research easily, with enough to spare for simple things like food, utilities, and rent. It was the bargain he'd gladly made for being at the pair's beck-and-call.

And yet…little Miss Morganson was also now a patient. So, he felt obligated to offer, "There is a blood-ox sat monitor," she perked up a bit and he instantly knew that she had known of such a machine's existence beforehand. So, he felt no guilt as he continued, "but it won't tell me your CO levels, which is the most concerning part right now."

Nova crossed her arms over her chest stubbornly. "As carbon monoxide can be expelled via the lungs easily, as long as sufficient oxygen saturation is met, then I see no problem with the easy, non-needle method."

He had to be sure not to smile at her decidedly childish tone and posture. She might as well have been a seven-year-old saying an immunization shot wasn't necessary because they felt fine. "Alright Miss Morganson, I will concede the point. However," he said seriously, "if you feel even the least short of breath or out-of-sorts, I want you to call me immediately. Alright? I live only a couple blocks away and can be at here in a trice."

"Doctor?" Mark's voice cut in with a practiced air of trying to get someone to do what they wanted by making it seem the other person's idea. "What if there were toxic fumes let out by the fire? Other than carbon monoxide? According to my brother, there were other things than wood burning. Sara was in the flames as well when she rescued Nova."

Well practiced in reading behind bullshit, Dr. Freeman raised an eyebrow at the man. Two years in the brothers' company as their doctor gave him a great deal of practice in discerning when one was lying. Or trying to lie. Michael was also intelligent enough to realize that for some reason, they wanted the girls' blood for some sort of analysis. He also knew that it was against the law to take such things without the consent of the individual. "If she doesn't want it…"

"I don't!" she rapidly shook her head.

"…then you know I can't. The blood-ox will do for now. But keep a close eye on both girls, just in case." He dismissed the rest of the conversation, though he knew that Mark and John would most likely try another tactic soon. It was time for focus on his other patient. "Alright Ms. Thomas. Your turn." As he hadn't used any needles, he didn't expect a big protest.

He did find it interesting that both girls' blood-ox was a little higher than average, instead of lower as he would have expected. Their pulse was a little high as well, though that was perfectly normal given the circumstances. The rest was well within normal parameters for their age and size.

When he was finally done, he gathered together his instruments as he began to give instructions. "Alright. You both seem fine, though probably still running slightly on adrenaline according to your blood pressure and pulse. I want you to eat some red meat tonight for dinner to help with your iron levels, which tend to dip after such events. A nice big salad as well for some other vitamins that will be getting low from all the excitement. Gentlemen, I'm sure I can count on you both to assure they get such a meal?" he raised an eyebrow at the pair, nodding decisively as they tilted their own in acknowledgement of the order. Before he left the room he gave out one last comment, "Oh, and be sure to get a good night's rest. I would even recommend going to bed early for a couple nights. Let your body do what it does best."

With that last recommendation, he disappeared out the parlor and down the hall. He would, of course, keep his emergency phone on hand just in case. But he doubted he'd be called back soon. At least not for the girls' falling in a fire. They were tired, frustrated, and shaken, but otherwise fine. All were very normal reactions for such an event. They just needed rest and food.

It was time to go back to his research. He still needed to figure out how to refine his method of production to decrease time, or increase output.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It still was a matter of some argument when Dr. Freeman had left. Of course, Sara had recognized the resemblance and given the same last name as her dimension's actor, it gave her some clarification on the role of his association with the two men. But there was no moment to mention it whilst he was in the room to Nova discreetly. Although, Nova had raised her eyebrows to her in the form of a question to which Sara gave a slight nod. It would have to do until they were alone.

And out of this house. Remembering her promise, she tried to repose herself. But it had been a long day and with what Nova had been through, she had been so terrified given the thought of losing her. But the fire….it seemed remarkable timing. Nova being taken. The car crash. The sedatives. Although, in some ways similar to the episode, The Empty Hearse, the actual events were skewed. Sara felt distinctly suspicious of their current two hosts.

But isn't that sloppy? She asked herself, thinking men as seemingly bright as these two were could likely arrange for a better tactic to obtain something as their blood or DNA. So many questions. Although, still, she had to consider that she was contending with reality and not a story that was being drawn out to a dramatic point to appeal to a viewership. Obviously things were missing. She wasn't sent a skip code on her mobile. But then, whomever was responsible was likely to have known she wouldn't need it or didn't see the reason to play such laborious games.

"It appears you both were very lucky to have emerged from that attack unscathed." Mark gave a slight smile that only slightly betrayed a subtle impatience. Nova swallowed, her throat dry. She recalled waking up in that bonfire to the suffocating darkness and then the horrific heat. The smoke. She couldn't breathe. She knew if she died here, she wouldn't regenerate. In terms of Time Lord standards, she was too young to master the skill, which required every aspect of mental control and likely the assistance of a TARDIS. It was also emphasized that she should be over a century to attempt the process. On top of that, she hadn't seen the untempered schism, which would align her mind to the vortex. Well, she had seen it relatively speaking. Through the Doctor's eyes. She knew why he had been so scared and how small he felt in the presence of infinity. But those were in dreams. It simply didn't count.

So, in those seconds that stretched on for hours, feeling her life slip away, struggling to breathe, it seemed memories of her life dashed in front of her eyes as well as the ones in her dreams. Her parents, especially her father to whom she was inspired to pursue her academic course but also to delve into her other passions. The moments she spent cross stitching. Family dinners. Being in Salt Lake City. Sara smiling at her when Nova prepared her favorite dessert. The taste of fresh honey. The tears the girls had shed over missing their families. In the final moment before darkness had taken her, she wondered if now, would she be reunited with them in some form of paradise.

The next moment, there was Sara. A glowing light. Her tears as her friend sobbed at how close she came to losing Nova. But relief turned into anxiety when John had taken control of the situation to likely 'the brothers' own benefit.

Nova was far from ignorant. Logic was very dependable. She knew that they wanted both their blood. At least, the portrayal Sara worked to describe in her stories was a fairly accurate one. He was not one to be so corrupted and even with the British socialized government, to which they had to abide by, DNA or blood couldn't be taken without a patient's consent. Or next of kin if the patient was incapacitated with a mental or health condition. But two doctors had to evaluate the patient and concede to compel a blood sample. The other option was if they were formally arrested under suspicion for a criminal act.

She knew though that Mark/Mycroft wasn't one to play always by the book. But that was the problem. They were trying to operate and manipulate under the pair. But it was like playing a game of leap frog through a heavy current of traffic.

"Yes, very lucky. I am thankful you interceded in time." Nova told them in response. "Although I am concerned about those who were responsible." She glanced at John/Sherlock. "They were targeting your car and how regrettable it would be if something happened to you."

"Indeed, fortunate acted in my favor." John said. "Nonetheless, I appreciate your concern."

Sara nodded. "Yes, thank you. Also, I appreciate your insistence on an exam to give everyone peace of mind."

"Oh, that was definitively our pleasure." Mark folded his hands together. "We should have dinner ready in the next five minutes. Might we offer you both a cuppa tea while we wait."

"No, thank you." Sara kept her voice calm. "I don't think that is necessary and as tempting as dinner sounds, I think we intruded on your hospitality long enough. Since your doctor has cleared us, we-"

"Provisionally." Mark replied, "Given that you complete a two day observation period here to ensure no further complications."

"We…." Sara started, trying to keep her cool. "Protective custody is more specifically used in a prison environment. We did not participate in a criminal act. So, Dr. Freeman can recommend it but we aren't obliged to stay here." She sighed. "We would be far more comfortable in our own beds and we will call our staff to keep an eye on us."

"A crime was already committed on your person. It was no mere suggestion but an established directive by Dr. Freeman." John was walking back and forth. "The PACE act."

"The…" Sara's voice trailed as Nova seemed to turn pale.

"PACE act, section three constitutes that those threatened by an act of terrorism, with the perpetrators at large, protective custody for a minimal duration is required."

Sara's hands clenched together and she slowly counted to ten. "No." She said finally.

"No." John Altamont repeated as though amused by the word.

"Again, it was your car. It seems more likely that you were the target considering the impact of Nova's viral campaign. Likely amateurs considering they missed you but all the same."

"I see." John said flatly. "However if they are after me, they surely would have taken myself instead of Nova."

"She was more accessible." Sara told him. "I even recall them saying there was a time crunch. They had to limit it to the easiest accessible passenger."

"It is a mere two days and it is better to exercise caution." John said. "Our butler will…."

"We do need to go home." The brunette turned with Nova to walk to the front door only to find a deadbolt in place, which could only be open by means of a passcode on a security panel. The security system was blinking red to show it was armed. Damn it!

"It is not safe for you to venture off the premises. There are the press and public at large merely outside the gate." John paused. "And it is too late to ask our driver to take you both home."

The girls simply stared at the door. One impassable barrier.

"Perhaps you will want to change before dinner." Mark suggested as Sara gritted her teeth in consternation. "Our butler will show you to your rooms."

Another sleepless night. Sara thought wondering if Nova felt the same. The minute they succumbed to slumber, she knew either one of them might be there, needle in hand. So either, they didn't sleep or they go in shifts.

Maybe the latter. Sara thought as she reluctantly followed the butler up to their rooms only to find to some dismay their rooms were located on different wings of the estate. Oh, that wouldn't be easy. Not at all.

Both changed clothes out of the closets, which for convenience purposes had a full supply of female attire. Neither decided to comment on how they were so fully prepared for this seeming crisis. Finally going down to dinner, they sat uneasily at the dining room table as bowls of lobster bisque was put in front of them. Since they both watched the butler ladle the soup from the same silver serving dish, they simply waited until John and Mark had first bite before consuming theirs.

"So, I am to be Mr. Sherlock Holmes." John mused. "Might I know a little more about him in terms of personality?"

"You must have read our books." Nova told him, feeling exhausted too. She wanted this dinner charade to end.

"I would like to garner a more introspective analysis from the author."

"Well, it's hard to know what to tell you." Sara yawned. "Sherlock is essentially a character that people can invariably love and hate."

"For what reason?"

"To be frank, he has a high functioning degree of Asperger's syndrome, which his parents didn't understand. He's ego-centric, however and prefers to call himself a high functioning sociopath in exchange for his actual diagnosis. He considers his brain, his vast computer and organizes his information into a Mind Palace. Likely eidetic memory but often he doesn't store in his mind too much 'needless information'. The needless information or whatever he deems unimportant, he deletes."

"What does he deem needless?"

"Philosophy, astronomy and some classic literature. That sort of thing." Sara told him.

He looked briefly introspective before turning to the red head. "And what of my role on your show, Nova?"

"There are two possibilities. Jack Harkness or the Master. One works with the Doctor, the other is a highly intelligent but insane villain reoccurring in different incarnations."

"I see. A good few options."

"I hope so." Nova muttered. Her head was starting to swim but she didn't wish to admit that. But then Sara looked the same shade of pale.

The brunette tried to clear the sensation. It was overwhelming. What was happening? She looked at her meal. The soup? No. They were eating it too.

And then she realized. The butler came by offering to add parmesan cheese, ground pepper or salt to the disk. Sara had chosen the cheese while Nova picked the pepper and salt. The bitter aftertaste in her mouth.

"You…." Sara stood up from the table. "You did something….the soup or…" She could hardly think straight.

"Of course we did." John said. "You missed a vital test. But don't worry." He stood up, walking towards Sara. "Ketamine causes short term amnesia. You will not recall this unpleasant decision we were forced to make."

"But…." Sara suddenly collapsed as John caught her, while at the same time, grabbing Nova's shoulder to keep her upright, so when she collapsed, she wouldn't go face first into her bowl of soup.

Mark smiled in satisfaction at his two unconscious guests before him. "I believe their sudden incapacitation warrants another call to Dr. Freeman, don't you?"

"My thoughts exactly." John pronounced. "Let's first take them up to their rooms."

Now Dr. Freeman would likely have no choice but to perform the blood test. Mark Gatiss was tremendously pleased, now on the phone summoning him back to the manor. Just the slightest bit of patience.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Dr. Freeman also had no compunction about, with extreme irritation and volume, half-yelling at the two as he retrieved a blood sample from each girl. "I said a nice meal. Salad and steak. I said two-day rest. What could possibly be hard about those instructions? You know better! You both know better!"

Indeed, Michael had treated the two men for various and sundry ailments over the last two years, including – but certainly not limited to – going into a burning building. At that incident, he had given the same instructions along with an emergency oxygen tank at the scratchy sound of their lungs.

"So I have to come back, interrupting an important process for my work, barely after I went, because neither of you can follow simple instructions!" He continued to berate the two. They may pay his check, but he was entirely aware of their not-inconsiderable intelligence. "But no…I have to come back to get the blood tests that both of you obviously so covet because either you orchestrated the event in its entirety, which I am starting to wonder about being it's the two of you, or because you have suddenly become incompetent enough that you can't see to the care of two females!"

He had the samples in his hand. Since he had known where he was going, he had brought along his emergency lab equipment to run the blood-gas and tox panel immediately, just in case. "What both of you have seemingly forgotten is that I do in fact care about my patients!" He was still snarling as he placed a few drops of each vial into the analyzer and pressed 'start'. It would take about five minutes for the tests to run. Five more minutes to yell at the idiots. So he turned around, crossed his arms angrily to glare at both men.

Neither had the decency to even fake remorse, which only set Michael off more, he tried another tactic. "I don't know what in the world has gotten into you both. I'm disappointed." That got a raised eyebrow. "I am not as intelligent as the pair of you, but I am certainly not stupid. Evidenced by the way you employ me as your personal physician and not someone else. Neither of you have the capacity to accept second-best. I am well aware that something about these two girls has set you both off, which is amazing given the circumstances. Best friends you may be, but your work is in completely different focuses. And yes, I've read their books, well, Ms. Thomas' anyway…I find them fascinating and amusing in how they dance around the truth without going into outright slander or libel. However, that is not a reason to practically kidnap them and arrange it so that I have no choice but to get something they clearly don't want me to have!

"They are my patients. By your own order. So, I am going to dedicate to them the same care, discretion, and professionalism that I bestow upon the pair of you. Am I making myself clear?" He finished in almost perfect timing for the machine to beep at the trio waiting.

"Perfectly, doctor." Mark said smoothly. "The results please?"

While Michael tore off the readout and quickly scanned all the relevant data, he heard John counter one of his points. "We did not, in fact, arrange the crash, kidnapping of Nova, or subsequent almost death of the women, doctor. That doesn't mean we won't take advantage of the situation to work in our benefit." John's voice paused. "Mark is already working on finding the true perpetrators, along with their purpose. Neither of us…enjoy making them suffer. Dancing political is, as you say, amusing. Actual physical injury is not desirable. Depending on the paper you hold in your hands, they have more political ties than they may be aware. Which is why we were so…intent…upon running a blood analysis."

"As well as a DNA test, please, doctor." Mark added calmly.

When Michael was silent for several long moments, just re-reading the paper over again. The second time with more depth and detail. After two minutes, John couldn't withhold his impatience much longer. "Is there a problem?"

"…I'll run the DNA analysis myself." Dr. Freeman said evenly. It was a tone he hadn't used since his medical rotation, before he had decided to primarily be a medical researcher. When he had perfected how to speak in such a manner as to not give his patients undue stress or anxiety. Given the results he was looking at, it was an automatic, trained response. In another minute, he had the blood samples in his pocket and was on his way out the door. "I'll be back in about two hours to discuss the results."

"Hold doctor. It's too dangerous for you to leave the premises with those vials when we still do not know why the girls were targeted." John interjected. "We will have the necessary equipment brought here instead. Just tell us which pieces you need."

Given what Michael had read, he didn't protest too much as he quickly wrote down the name and general description of the required machines. "With all speed, Altamont." His tone wasn't grim…but it was an order swimming with trying-not-to-be-grim.

John and Mark both raised eyebrows in identical expressions of solemn curiosity. It was no wonder that Ms. Thomas had made her interpretation of them into siblings. The resemblance was uncanny at times. As Mark spoke into his phone to give the order, John asked almost-gently, "Anything you can tell us now?"

Dr. Freeman put a hand through his hair and gazed sadly down at the brunette. "I'm amazed they're breathing."