"You know," she whispered.
"Of course I know. It was completely obvious, once you had pointed out the pentagram on that girl's side," Sherlock informed her. He was still looking through the book, though both of them knew perfectly well that he did not need to.
"I was only trying to help..."
"You would have been of more help if you had not taken the book out of the library in the first place," Sherlock admonished. He snapped the book shut and placed it back on the shelf.
His shoes fell heavily on the wood as he stomped from the bookstore. Madeleine followed him, though kept her distance as they left the small shop and started up the street.
They were almost at the corner when Sherlock stopped and rounded to face her.
"Tell me why," he all but commanded.
"I was bored," she replied softly.
"You're a teenager. You don't get bored. You giggle and run boys as if they're the only thing remotely interesting on the planet."
"Obviously you forgot that you sent me to an all girls college, Daddy." Madeleine began to get her voice back.
"Stop calling me that, you're not five," he retorted, turning away.
She looked shocked, but quickly wiped the emotion off her face.
"Fine."
He led her back to Baker Street without a word.
The flat was completely deserted when Sherlock pushed the door open. Nothing seemed to be misplaced, apart from the fact that it was close to three in the morning and John was nowhere to be seen.
"He must be upstairs," Sherlock muttered to himself.
The detective was vaguely aware of his daughter going over to his desk, as he went to the kitchen to check on a particular finger in the freezer. He heard her move things around, pushing books onto the floor and crumpling up pieces of paper. She really wanted to piss him off.
"What are you doing?" he demanded from the archway.
Her head turned up briefly to look at him, before she went back to the desk, still tossing things aside. The dark wooden cube that usually sat upon his desk toppled off a pile of papers. Sherlock took three steps to stand beside her, his eyes searching for an answer.
"Madeleine," he growled.
"The phone is gone," she mumbled.
"Your phone is gone? You're worried about your phone? You just threw my cube onto the ground!"
"The cube can handle it," Madeleine hissed, "John's phone is gone."
"He's probably taken it upstairs. Shouldn't you be in bed right now?"
She straightened up and whipped around to face him, staring.
"If you were any sort of father you would have given me a bed to sleep in, but as such, I'm left to sleep on the couch. Apart from that, if you had any sense of anyone you would know that with the all the excitement we've had tonight, I doubt that your friend would get to sleep in the hour we've been in that bookstore. John is not upstairs," she finished.
There was a pause. Sherlock turned, and stalked back out the flat door and up the stairs.
Madeleine collapsed onto a chair by the fireplace, pulling her own sleek black phone from her coat pocket. She was scrolling through her contacts when Sherlock returned.
He looked from to the desk, to her, to her phone.
"My phone is gone."
"Of course it is."
"Someone took it."
"Yes, they did."
"Who took it?"
"Why don't we play a guessing game? You can go through a list of people you think have taken your phone, and I'll tell you if you're correct or not." She had not looked up from the screen.
"Your sarcasm is not amusing," he glowered.
She glanced at him.
"And I was trying so hard, as well," she frowned, her voice mocking.
"What are you doing?"
"Last time you asked that question, I made you walk out."
He murmured something under his breath, and went to the doorway.
"MRS HUDSON!" he shouted down the stairwell.
"You really don't care about anyone, do you?" Madeleine's voice came from behind him. He spun around to see her phone pressed to her ear, and her staring at him with a look of mild curiosity.
"Who are you calling?"
"Doctor John."
"Give me the phone," he ordered.
She danced away from him, and over to the fireplace. After a moment, she brought the phone away from her ear.
"Not answering," she notified him.
"Call again!"
"He won't pick up. Anyway, I know where he is."
"Where?"
"Stop playing stupid, you've known for the past five minutes," she grinned as she pushed past him into the hallway.
Sherlock smiled.
xsherlockx
Lestrade's right foot was numb. He was not particularly keen on moving it, but the man he was attached to had decided otherwise.
"Almost got it," John said aloud.
"Why do you carry something like that?"
"I'm an army doctor, I need an army knife. Hold on..."
There was a snap and the rope around Lestrade's wrists loosened.
His companion was already up on his feet, shaking off the rope and flipping the knife back into his pocket.
"You're a detective inspector, why don't you have anything to cut ropes?" John asked.
Lestrade gave him a sour look and pulled himself up, testing his foot.
"Any idea where we are?" asked the doctor.
He stepped into the ring of candles, approaching the altar. A black candle sat at its head, still burning. Around the candle was a loose chain of gold with a pendant. John's brow furrowed as he got a better look at the shape. It was a pentagram. No surprise. The pendant was a little different to the rest of the chain, as it appeared to be made of cheap plastic instead of metal. However, etched into the ring were two letters, 'N' and 'H', or so they appeared to John.
"Didn't know you fancied jewellery, Doctor," Lestrade snickered behind him.
The pair eyed each other for a moment, before turning and looking away.
"Not much of a set up," the inspector commented lightly.
"I can't believe you got taken in by a bunch of school girls," John laughed.
Lestrade did not seem pleased.
"Come on, let's get out of here."
John grinned at him. He turned and grabbed the pendant around the candle, stuffing it into his jacket. Sherlock would want to look at it later, perhaps.
Sherlock.
"Where is he?" the doctor's voice became serious, and Lestrade seemed to take the hint.
"Who?"
"Sherlock! Are you here?" John called. The only reply was his own echo.
"There's only us down here, John," Lestrade informed him.
"Then where is he?"
"I don't know, but he's not here, and neither is his little apprentice."
"The Coven must have another place," John offered as an explanation.
"They seem pretty settled in here." Lestrade was going for the stone door, and easily skipped up the few cobbled steps to the exit.
He pushed, but it appeared that the thing would not budge.
"Bugger."
"Let me help."
Together, the two men thrust their weight against the door, but the heavy stone did not move.
Lestrade pulled a radio from his pocket and tried to speak into it, but there was only static.
A 'beep' issued from John's pocket, and he pulled his phone from his jacket. There was no signal, as they were underground and probably in the middle of a forest; but he found on his phone screen:
Alarm – 4:00am
He did not remember timing an alarm for himself, but opened it up anyway:
'Coming. MH.'
John had to smile at that.
That was more of a filler chapter to make you all happy. (Kinda also because I like writing MadeleineSherlock scenes)
You guys voted for a longer story, so I've worked something out with my beta and gamma, (and run it by my delta as well) (Yes I have many people semi-editing) (but I love my beta the most... shh the others don't know though) so this story might actually end up going for a while... (hopefully).
Please review!
Note: For serious this time, I may not post another chapter for about a week and a half. :(
REVIEW! :D