I was at such a writer's block I'm not going to lie so I'm sorry if this is a little bit of a lackluster chapter. For anyone curious, the face claim for Nomi, Dylan's girlfriend, is Janah Mariano and the face claims for the new Angels are Pearl Mackie (I don't watch the show but holy fuck) Renee Elise Goldsberry, and Natalia Cordova-Buckley. Enjoy!
"There's something on your mind Watson." Sherlock's voice breaks the silence in the room.
"It's just been a while." Joan sighs. "When was the last time someone was actively trying to kill us?"
"Not since Elana March I believe."
"The New York crime boss tried to kill you?" Natalie intersects wide eyed from her spot amongst files.
"Almost didn't." Sherlock mutters disdain laced in his voice.
"What?" A file hits the ground now as Dylan tunes into the conversation. "Alex?"
"Joan." Sherlock corrects.
"Ignore him." Joan dismisses burying herself in files in order to ignore this conversation.
"No we're not ignoring him." Natalie protests. "You'd do the same for us if it was one of us. Now explain." Joan kept stubbornly silent so of course Sherlock felt the need to answer for her. She could almost feel him bouncing from the other side of the room.
"For a brief encounter of time I went back to London and Watson continued work here. In this time she… accidentally?" Watson shrugs. "Point is she angered the crime boss. Sent her to jail. While she was in jail she made contact with one of her lackeys and tried to have Watson poisoned." Watson shifts at the onslaught of memories. "She was given the wrong coffee and…"
"Oh Alex." Natalie whispers.
"Andrew's been dead for two years now. It's fine." She lies. She can feel Dylan's gaze from across the room. The only one in here that always knew when she was lying.
"But she died didn't she? That's at least some comfort?"
"Killed by his crazy ex that I told you about. Said she didn't want anyone interfering with our game." Joan mutters flipping through another list of names with a majority crossed out in red ink. "I still can't believe a majority of these people are dead."
"To be fair they were very adamant about killing us." Dylan points out with a shrug. No arguing with that one. They've been chased by more than a fair share bullets, helicopters, and other varieties of weapons.
"And the ones who aren't are either in jail have suddenly turned a new leaf." Natalie sighs jutting out her chin. Joan can almost feel the tears welling in her eyes. She's feeling hopeless. The air is almost radiating through the home.
"Sherlock and I are going to visit our old office. Maybe there's a clue there."
"We should go with you." Natalie protests moving to stand.
"No stay here. We need to make sure nothing happens to Pete and none of us should be left alone." Alex frowns. "Sherlock isn't as trained as us but he can fight." He tenses slightly. Bad choice of words.
"Stay safe." Dylan feigns a smile.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"So you dated Jason Gibbons?" Sherlock teases as they step in front of the building. The entire ride had been silent now suddenly he was asking questions again. Here she'd thought she'd nearly made it free.
A groan rips through her throat. That hadn't been her proudest moment. "Which of them told you?"
"Natalie was rather informative when you were making coffee." He smirks slightly. "You do know he's rather…"
"Dense?"
"That's putting it nicely." He remarks.
"He was sweet. He treated me well." Joan smiles softly at the memory. For a moment she swears she can see him frown and shift uncomfortably. "It just didn't work out okay? Can we stop talking about it?"
"Very well. Shall we?" He gestures to the door.
"Actually I think you should wait out here. Just in case the Angels are in there. Wouldn't want to startle them now would we?" She teases. He frowns but relents.
Joan steps inside immediately being overwhelmed with memories. There's nobody inside but it looked like they'd just left. The embers were still glowing in the soft afternoon light. A few things were different. The decor on the couches had been replaced and there were a few new photos. She smiles slightly gazing down at the one of the new Angels. Dylan had trained them since she left and Natalie had become pregnant. She hoped for their sake they weren't as cocky as she was.
She picks up one photo of two ladies with their arms wrapped around each other. Both appeared to be African American with curly hair. One sports a rainbow striped tank top and a wide smile, the other a black pantsuit and a serious gaze. The next photo featured the same two women now featuring a Mexican woman squeezed between them giving a wide grin. Her rounded glasses were almost falling off the perch of her nose.
She places the frame down walking over to the speaker. She lets out a small sigh, about to go back to investigating when a voice echoes through the room.
"Alex." Joan jumps nearly a foot in the air. The familiar voice pulls her back to the memories once more.
"Charlie." She whispers.
"Or should I call you Joan?"
"Either one is fine. The girls know now."
"They were bound to find out eventually." He chuckles. "You've made quite a name for yourself in New York. I must say I'm not surprised you've become as skilled an investigator as you are."
"Thank you Charlie. How are you?" She continues combing through the room, looking for any clues.
"I'm good. Retired actually."
"What?"
"My daughter has taken over. No worries." Another soft laugh echoes through the otherwise empty room. "She recognized you from the photos and connected me through."
"Everything looks the same but it's so different." Joan sighs.
"That's because you're different." She almost laughs at the cheesy statement. "Something else is on your mind though."
"You can tell?"
"Of course I can tell. What's the matter?"
"Natalie's son is missing. I was hoping to find a clue on who took him here."
"That's not it though." She can hear his eyebrow raising in his tone. "Is it?"
"Sherlock didn't know about all of this." She sighs. "I didn't intend for him to find it out either."
"Do you trust him?"
"With my life!" She swears. At this point she's not sure if she's arguing the point for Sherlock or herself.
An eery silence fills every corner of the room. "You still blame yourself."
"How can I not?" She whispers tears prickling at the back of her eyes. "I killed an innocent man."
"That's in the past Alex. You have to let go." Charlie's tone swells in the room. "You care for this man do you not?"
"Yes."
"Then give him time. Remember how difficult it was for Pete to accept this side of Natalie's life?"
"No Sherlock and I aren't the same as Pete and Natalie." She laughs redness filling her cheeks. God just what she needed right now. Another person teasing her about her partner.
"Are you not? You care for this man. You've stuck by his side all of these years." Something on the other side of the room glints in the light catching her attention. "Just give the thought a chance Alex. Let the past go."
As she approaches the desk she can make out that it's a pistol. However, that's not the thing that has ice spilling down her spine. It's the golden color that glints off the weapon. So familiar.
"All Angels must go to heaven." A new voice crows through the speaker. Joan snatches the gun off the table making a quick break towards the door. A loud bang echoes through the room making her ears ring painfully. She makes it to the door before she's thrown into the streets with flames licking up her spine. Her body rolls painfully across the road as she lands.
Opening her eyes slightly she spies the building decimated by the explosion. Flames spout from the ground reaching towards the blue skies. Black smoke rises from the ashes to join the white clouds.
"Watson!" Heavy feet hit off gravel carrying Sherlock to her position on the ground. Everything feels fuzzy and her limbs are heavy. Possible concussion and definitely some burns, she mentally notes. Sherlock lands beside her surveying her for serious bleeding or anything nasty. Her head feels like it's swimming and it's a little difficult to hear his voice. She can hear him pleading her to stay awake, demanding her to be okay. His voice is desperate and broken. She hadn't heard it that way since he relapsed. Black spots close in on her sight threatening to drown her. She wants to tell him she's okay but her tongue in heavy in her mouth. She unfolds her body letting the pistol rest on her chest. "What's that?"
"It's to do with our kidnapper." She coughs slowly forcing her limbs to cooperate despite Sherlock's insistent protests. Her head is still ringing and blackness still trying to envelop her. She sits up with a groan only to fall heavily against Sherlock's chest. She could hear the sirens rushing closer as people began to wander out of their respective buildings in alarm and concern.
The last thing she feels is Sherlock softly pressing a kiss to the side of her head insisting that she'll be okay.