Chapter Twelve: Nancy Colt

Nancy hadn't called her daughters in a while and she supposed that she should call them soon. Though, Nancy was sure that her dear Alexandria was having a fantastic night with her boyfriend.

Alexandria Violet Colt. Nancy sighed happily as she made her dinner. Her daughter was so smart and successful. She was all she ever wanted to be. Nancy was proud of her daughter. She was following her fathers footsteps. In a way, it worried Nancy. Besides, Alexandria was too much like her father.

Her husband died in an explosion many years ago because he got too far and they were able to get to him. Though, Alexandria was a very clever girl and she was often able to evade the more dangerous things, and if she was in a dangerous situation, she could handle it, no problem.

Maria on the other hand, needed to get her life together. Ah, Maria. Alexandria's old boyfriend, Nathan, cheated on Alex with Maria and thought he could get away with it.

"How cute." Nancy laughed at the thought.

Maria needed a job desperately. Something, anything that paid more then that silly little souvenir place near the palace. She needed to go to school and get a better job. She needed to get rid of that moron she calls a boyfriend. Nathan should have just left both of her girls alone. Nancy figured she'd have to talk to him.

Once Nancy was finished with her dinner, she went to the freezer to get some chocolate ice cream so she could watch a movie before bed, but she found no ice cream. Nancy sighed. At least the convenience store wasn't too far away so it wouldn't take long. Nancy grabbed her purse, pulled on her shoes and went out onto the street.

Maria's flat wasn't too far away, and Nancy wondered if she should pop in just to say hello, but she knew how her daughters never liked it when she did. Nancy knew they loved her, but they wanted her to respect their privacy. Of course, Nancy hadn't seen Maria since Alex got out of the hospital a couple of weeks ago.

Alexandria was famous in their family for her fast recoveries. When she was six, she broke her arm falling out of a tree and a week and a half later, the doctor took her cast off. She took after her father in more ways than one. Alexandria was ridiculously smart. She taught herself to read, and she memorized the multiplication tables in two days. Now, she was an undercover detective for the London Police, like her father. Nancy couldn't be any more proud. Alexandria was very successful, and Nancy loved it.

Once Nancy had her ice cream and was heading home, she realized that the street was silent. There wasn't a person or a car in sight. She looked around, wondering where everyone was. Was there a football game on TV? Probably not, the next game wasn't for a few days. Nevertheless, Nancy walked faster. She looked behind her and walked a bit faster. When she looked forwards, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Oh, it was just a lamp post. Nothing to worry over. Nancy hurried to her apartment, and once she was inside, she locked everything. The windows, the doors, and she even hid her jewelry box. Then, she prepared herself some ice cream.

Nancy stood in the kitchen and took a spoonful of the creamy, chocolaty goodness and savoured each cold, rich, chocolate-filled second the ice cream was in her mouth. Ah, double chocolate ice cream was simply divine. Nancy took another spoonful and put in in her mouth. Ahhh, how she loved chocolate ice cream.

Suddenly, Nancy heard a noise from the other room. A small thump that she should have thought nothing of, but it echoed in her head. Nancy moved towards the living room and she stepped into the room. The window was open and there was a soft breeze blowing her curtains slightly. The chair near the window was slightly out of place. Nancy moved farther into the room, still holding her ice cream, but now she was holding so tight, her knuckles were turning white.

Nancy gulped heavily, coming to a sudden realization. Slowly, she turned around. Standing there in the arch to the kitchen was a beautiful Asian woman. She had long flowing hair and black, obsidian eyes. She wore a shiny, leather suit that hugged her form beautifully and tall boots to make her as tall as possible. She had a slight smirk playing on her lips. Nancy dropped her bowl of ice cream.

"Wh-who are you?" Nancy managed, "And what are you doing in my house?"

"Who I am is none of your concern." The woman said, her voice thick with accent, "What I'm doing here should be your worry."

"I'm not going to tell you where Crystal is." Nancy stuttered.

"Oh, sweetheart, let's not play any games. I know that her name isn't Crystal. Now, Mrs. Colt, you know that Alexandria is the Queen in our game?"

"W-what game?"

"A game of which you are a pawn."

"I'm sorry?" Nancy barely got the words out.

"Oh, it's no use trying to explain. You'll wouldn't understand." the woman pointed a gun at Nancy, "Or, you wouldn't get to understand."

The woman pulled the trigger.

~!~!~!~!~

Sherlock paced his flat, trying to block out the sound of his neighbor and her boyfriend on the other side of the wall. Even though they were sort of loud, he wasn't thinking about them at all. He was thinking about the detective who kept escaping him.

Alexander Colt. This man made everything that Sherlock was trying to work on seem unimportant. He's passed up a few spectacular cases in the past few days and he was beating himself up. In another way, however, it didn't matter. Alexander Colt may be just a man, but he's the hardest man to find. Sherlock has had people he was looking for and it took ages to find them, but never this long.

Alexander seemed to know everyone around Sherlock, and everyone around Sherlock refused to tell him a damn thing. They all seemed to know a lot about this Alexander guy, but no one wanted him to know anything. It was as if they were all hiding something from him. Something huge and obvious and right in front of his face. God, what was it.

It wasn't like he could just throw in the towel and give up. No one would even believe him anyway. Or tell him anything. That was the thing about his personality, and Alexander's identity. No one would tell him anything. He had to figure it out on his own. Sherlock was beginning to doubt that he'd ever figure it out, but he had to.

Then, a thought occurred to him. It was unlikely, but at this stage of the game, he'd just about follow every lead he came across. This, however, wasn't much of a lead at all, but it was all he had. Sherlock grabbed his coat and his scarf, and he didn't bother with an umbrella. The rain seemed to be lightening up anyway.

Sherlock ran out onto the street and headed up a familiar route. It had been a few days since he'd been up this way, and it was only his second time. Soon, he came to the familiar neighborhood and he sped up. He reached the nice little two-story flat of Nancy Greene and he knocked on the door, but there was no answer. He noticed the window next to the door was open, and he called inside, but then he saw he state of the room.

One of the chairs was overturned, some of the lamps had fallen over and some of the bulbs had smashed. The room was in ruins and there had obviously been a struggle. Sherlock reached for the doorknob, and as his hand closed around it, it fell apart in his hand. Some how it had been destroyed. Sherlock hurried into the flat and looked around.

The flat was completely destroyed. As Sherlock looked closer, there were red smears here and there. There was blood. The more he looked, the more blood he saw. When he reached the kitchen, there was a pool of it near the small half-circle kitchen table. He turned around and he saw the message written in blood on the wall.

"Sherlock,

We're smarter then you thought, eh? I'm sure Crystal would think so, too. There is much more to us than meets the eye."

~!~!~!~!~

It was one in the morning and John still couldn't sleep. He was on his side, looking at his sleeping girlfriend. She slept on her stomach, and turned her head so her hair splayed over the pillow. The scratches on Crystal's back were scarring now, but John bet that they still hurt like crazy.

She was beautiful. Probably one of the most beautiful girls he'd ever seen and he got to DATE her. Sherlock may not like her much, but John did. He thought about her all the time. She may be a complete mystery, but she's the best mystery that had ever happened to him.

John reached over and gently pushed a hair out of her face and smiled softly. Man, she was so beautiful, he could hardly contain himself. Though, now that John thought about it, Sherlock couldn't keep his eyes off of her, either. Sherlock seemed to always be watching her.

Though, now that John thought about it more, Sherlock seemed to really like Crystal. He may think he hates her, but he likes her. Well, then again, there is that whole thing where he keeps coming to her for information. Crystal sure did seem to know a lot. So, that could be the reason he likes her. Sherlock wasn't human enough to process "beautiful." He was just that dense.

John decided that he would test him. John needed answers and he damn sure knew how to get them.

~!~!~!~!~!~

Nicky was positively terrified. He was alone in the dark and he didn't know what to do about it. Nicky kept cursing himself for not training karate or Tae Kwon Do all the way to the black belt. Or studying hard enough to get into a police academy. Of, course, that's not really what he wanted to do, but at the moment, it was looking pretty appealing.

Nicky didn't know how long he'd been there. He was kept in the dark. He couldn't find a door, or really anything in the room. He figured the door could only be opened from one side. For all he knew a week had passed, or a month. What had he done to deserve this. He had no idea. He was sure there had to be something.

As the days, or hours, wore on, Nicky had no idea what was real life, or just a dream. Occasionally, a slat in the door would open and a tray of food would slide into the room and the slat would stay open just long enough for Nicky to find his way to the tray. The food was always fantastic. It was like some gourmet Italian chef was cooking for him.

That was rare, however, and Nicky loved the light. He missed it. He wanted to bask in it. He dreamt about it when he went to sleep, and sometimes... he even forgot what it was.

Then, when he was about to give up hope and let himself starve to death, the door opened. Nicky, blinded, covered his eyes just enough so his retinas wouldn't burn. In the doorway, there was a woman dragging along another woman who looked familiar. The woman who was being dragged was thrown into the room mercilessly and the door slammed shut.

Nicky slowly crept towards where the unconscious woman was but stopped suddenly when he felt warm, thick liquid not far from where she was laying. Blood. Was she dead? Nicky couldn't tell. Nor did he want to.

~!~!~!~!~!~

"Mom?!" Crystal called as she ran up to her mothers flat. Sherlock had called her a few minutes before telling her about her mother. Clearly, she'd rushed. Her hair was a mess, she wearing wrinkly sweatpants, a wrinkly and stretched tank top, a lop-sided jacket and her shoelaces weren't tied. As she ran up, she was tying her messy black hair in a messy ponytail.

"Where's John?" Sherlock was shocked that she hadn't brought him along.

"He's asleep. It is three in the morning." she scoffed, then her face grew serious, "What the hell are you doing at my mothers house."

"I-I thought."

"That I was Alexander Colt, or something more like Alexandra or Alexandria, and you could get it out of my mother?" she accused.

"No, not at all. I just thought... her husband might have said something about him. I don't think you're Alex Colt."

"Okay, fine."

As she headed up the stairs into her mothers flat, something inside Sherlock changed. He wasn't really sure what it was, but it was strong. It was a bit of a spike. Sherlock expected it to go away. In fact, he wanted it to go away, but it didn't. If anything, it stuck to him like a wasp stuck in amber.

Sherlock tried to shake it off, failed, sighed, and followed it flatmate's girlfriend and neighbor into her mothers flat.

Crystal stared at the writing in blood on the kitchen wall, unmoving. She looked as if she was going to burst into tears at any moment. Sherlock didn't know who these people where and he doubted that Crystal would know. She looked down at her feet, her hand over her mouth. Sherlock watched from across the room, leaning against the wall. He hadn't called the police yet. The last thing she needed were a bunch of strangers storming her mothers house.

There was no doubt the blood was Nancy's. Sherlock tried to calculate who could have possibly done this to hurt Crystal, but suddenly, his thinking process was stopped by something he never expected to happen. He noticed that Crystal's body was lightly shaking. Her eyes were closed, but small droplets of moisture ran down her cheeks then fell to the floor. Right in front of his eyes, he saw the most powerful woman he knew break down in front of him.

"C-Crystal?" he managed.

"Not now, Sherlock." she choked.

"Crystal, come here." he said, walking to the center of the room.

"What?" she practically snapped.

"Come here."

Crystal dropped her hand and she moved to stand in front of Sherlock in the center of the room. She looked at him expectantly for a moment. Then, he did something neither of them expected. Sherlock stepped forward and took her in his arms. He hugged her as tight as he dared without suffocating her. She stood like a statue in his arms, stiff and unmoving.

"Sherlock..." she said, "What the hell are you doing?"

"About as much affection I can express."

"Well, it's weird."

"Alright, fine." Sherlock let go, "Let's see if there's a coffee shop is open."

"It's three in the morning." Crystal said pointedly, stepping away from him.

"I'm sure there's somewhere. Come on."

Sherlock took Crystal's wrist and they dragged her into the streets of London. They walked through London and they eventually did find an open coffee shop. It was a small place, so the coffee wasn't all that great, but it was something. They both got decaf and they found themselves sitting by the window.

The next thing they knew, a cop walked in, got a very strong espresso, then went to stand outside to drink it. Sherlock was smiling like an idiot and he was glad that Crystal wasn't looking at him. He wasn't entirely sure why he was smiling, but he sure knew what to do next time Crystal was feeling a little down.

Then, it occurred to him that she looked fine. She had her breakdown earlier, but now... she looked fine.

"Crystal... are you alright?" he asked, "You look like you know something."

"Of course I know something. I know lots of things, in fact. You might be surprised." she said. She was obviously annoyed with him. "I know so much, that sometimes I think I know more than you. Of course... you probably meant about the message on the wall written in my mothers blood. Maybe I do know something about the Mi Nyo, but I probably don't because I'm just so stupid."

"Crystal, I-"

"Hold on." she said, interrupting me to look at the screen on her phone, "Gotta take this."

She stood up and moved to the other side of the room. She whispered frantically into the phone, pausing a few times. Sherlock listened intently, but he couldn't catch anything. When she came back, she sat down across from him, looked at him very seriously and said,

"Maybe I'm not okay."