Author's Note: I don't own Sherlock Holmes or anything you recognize. Whatever you don't recognize from the books came from the inner workings of my mind…scary thought, I know. :)
Chapter 7 Young Love
When we arrived, Victoria and Sherlock were greeted warmly by a tearful Mrs. Hudson as they were looked over. Irene was shown to a guest room where she would be staying for the time being. Irene said she was tired and needed to rest, so she did not wish join us. After we had all had the chance to wash up, the rest of us sat in the study room as Holmes asked his daughter about her time as a prisoner. There were times when she would pause for a long period and Holmes would coax her gently along. Holmes and I were rather worried. Finally, I suggested that Victoria get her rest and then she could continue her narrative later. Holmes nodded in agreement and Victoria left us quietly with her sheepdog shadow. When they had gone, Holmes lit up his pipe and sat with a thoughtfully dark expression on his long face.
"This does complicate things, does it not Watson?" he asked me as he puffed his pipe.
"Yes, but what I do not understand is why Detective Phillips left so suddenly? I thought he was enjoying the case."
"Don't you see Watson?" Holmes asked impatiently, "The way he looked at her when he shut the door, the pain in her eyes as we were driving away, her inability to recall all the facts? They are in love!"
"But if they are indeed in love," I said with a frown, "Why did he leave?"
"He is intimidated by her now," said Holmes matter-of-factly, "Before she was the daughter of a poor engineer but now she is related to one of the most sought after detectives in all of London, though I do not mean to sound pompous. I think he finds himself unworthy now and wishes to cut off all connections before he falls in even deeper."
I recalled my marriage to Mary and how horrible I had felt when I had found out she was really a wealthy heiress. I knew that it would have been selfish of me to ask for her hand, me a poor surgeon and assistant to a detective who, at the time, was still gaining popularity. Yes, I knew quite well how the poor boy felt. Thinking about my wife made me realize just how much I missed her company. As soon as this case was finished, I would go back to our house and see her.
"What shall we do Holmes?" I asked, pulling out my own pipe and fingering it in thought, "It is plainly obvious that they are hopeless without each other now."
Holmes was about to answer when he stopped and cocked his head to the side, as though he were listening. Then I heard it too, the sound of scuffling feet and someone struggling. Holmes flew out of his chair and ran up the stairs, I attempting to follow as quickly as I could. My friend arrived before me but he was too late.
As I panted into the room, I saw signs of a struggle but that was it. Victoria and Sherlock were gone. From the looks of the room, they had put up a good fight. There were nail claws on the floorboards, the sheets were tousled, and the window was wide open with the white curtains blowing in the London breeze as the branches of a tree in the backyard swayed. The room was the complete opposite of the last time Victoria and her canine friend had left us. Suddenly, there was a shout from the room next door.
"SHERLOCK!" a woman's voice cried.
Once again, we burst into a room, the room Irene had been resting in, to find it dilapidated and empty. Holmes just stood in silence and rubbed his eyes with his long fingers before sitting on the end of the bed.
"It seems," Holmes finally said solemnly, "That the Professor has not given up the fight. Watson, I believe we ought to pay a visit to an old friend of mine and then take a trip to Scotland Yard."
I went outside to get a hansom while Holmes explained the situation to Mrs. Hudson. As we were pulling away, I saw our landlady in the window with a handkerchief to her eyes. We rode to a rundown area of the city to an apartment where there were animals of all kinds in every size cage. However, we were looking for only one.
"Good evening Mr. Holmes!" the owner said happily, "I'll get Toby for you right away."
He soon arrived with Toby, a short and squat brute with large, sad looking eyes. However, his tail was wagging eagerly for the chance to show off his amazing power of scent. Holmes had used him several times before, the most well-known during the Jonathon Small case.
With dog in hand, we rode to Scotland Yard headquarters. As we walked through the building, many a man poked his head out of his office to see the famous Sherlock Holmes walking a waddling dog. It was a sight to behold, I must say. Upon arriving at Phillips office, Holmes did not even knock but entered and shut the door behind me with a loud snap. Phillips was sitting at his desk reading over a file and eyed the dog warily.
"Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson, what a surprise to see you here so soon! I am afraid I am rather busy at the moment but if you come back tomorrow morning, I will-"
"I am afraid that tomorrow morning might be too late," Holmes said with a hint of winter in his tone, "It seems Victoria has been kidnapped."
"Again?" Phillips asked with raised eyebrows.
"She was not kidnapped before," I said defensively, "She walked into a trap laid out by Professor Moriarty."
"And Professor Moriarty has also taken Irene Adler," my friend continued, "It would seem as if he has more in store for her."
"And what do you wish for me to do?"
"We are going to find them," I said, getting rather impatient now, "And we are asking you to come along. Do you not care what becomes of Victoria now that you pulled yourself off the case?"
"On the contrary Watson, I think he cares too much. Am I right Phillips?" Holmes asked.
"My friends," said Phillips, his tone like hard steel, "I am a busy man and I do not have time to go gallivanting about London with you two and a beast looking for women who keep getting into things that are much to large for them. Now, if you would excuse me, I have work to do."
I turned to Holmes, who was shaking his head sadly. I, on the other hand, was shaking with rage. He was going to give up on what he wanted! No, I would not allow him to. I silently asked Holmes to step out for a moment, which he did willingly. Then, I turned my attention to the young man before me.
"Phillips, are you going to just let her go like that?" I asked and his head shot up in shock, "My friend, you were not very subtle."
"Dr. Watson, you do not understand," Phillips said, his shoulders slumping, "My wages are low and it would be a sin to ask for her hand when she is much higher up than me. I could never do that to her."
"I know exactly what you are going through," I said with a kind smile, "My wife was supposed to inherit a fortune when I met her. I felt the same way you did, but I plucked up the courage and asked her. Although, this was after the fact we learned her fortune was lost in a five mile stretch in the Thames. Let me tell you something, take it from someone who has been through it too. If you really love her and she feels the same way, it won't matter if you're living in Buckingham Palace or in a cardboard box."
Phillips nodded and got up, opening the door where Holmes was waiting patiently while holding and petting Toby.
"Where is she?" Phillips asked.
"That's the spirit boy!" said Holmes with a glint in his eyes, "Toby has the best scent in all of London. If any dog can find Victoria and Irene, this one can." He put Toby on the ground and pulled out a handkerchief that belonged to Victoria. When I opened my mouth to ask why we were only using something of Victoria's, Holmes explained, "They are bound to be in the same place Watson, the Professor wants to keep a close eye on them both."
Toby smelled the fabric, put his nose in the air, and let out a bay as he took off, dragging Holmes behind him. Everyone in the vicinity laughed heartily while Phillips and I ran to keep up with the man and dog. We ran down the streets of London as night began to fall.
"Holmes," I asked, falling in stride with him as Toby pulled him along, "Why would Moriarty kidnap Victoria? Surely after our escape he must realize it would be preposterous to use her to lure you again?"
"And yet, here we are looking," said Holmes with a shrug, "But I agree with you Watson, there must be another motive. I am beginning to wonder if the uncle really was the intended target."
"And what does he want with Irene?" I continued, "She said herself that the Professor was only asking her to do small things for him. Why would he care if she was gone?"
"He knows my weaknesses," said Holmes sadly, "If I would not come to save my own daughter, at least I would come to save the woman I love. But see Watson at Toby's wailing? We are getting quite close my friend, the game is afoot!"
I had never heard Holmes openly admit he loved Irene. Sure, it was painfully obvious he had a soft spot for her, but love? Since when did Holmes, the calculating machine, fall in love? But I should have known it was possible, he had said he was in love with Victoria's mother. I put these thoughts aside as we reached a dingy dock while the last rays of sunlight pushed their way over the horizon. Toby put his nose in the air and began pacing back and forth, whining and whimpering in anxiety.
"Good boy," said Holmes and the dog sat, wagging his tail happily, "Watson, I believe they are still around here, otherwise Toby would have ran to the water and barked in frustration."
"But how are we to know where?" Phillips asked impatiently, "Look at the boats in the docks! This could take all evening and that may be too long."
Holmes pulled out a different handkerchief with the initials I.A in the corner, and put it to the dog's nose. The dog sniffed the air and walked down to the end of the dock where there was only one ship in the yard. A man was untying the rope from the dock and pushing off. From the light behind him, I could see he was a tall, broad man. He was the wardrobe man.
Holmes tied up Toby to the dock and snuck quickly and quietly onto the stern as we followed. All of us pulled out our revolvers and pistols as we snuck around the ship. There was no one in sight but we could hear music and laughter from below deck.
"Early celebration no doubt," Holmes whispered, "I hope you two can swim? That might just be our only way out of here."
We nodded and continued below the deck. There were four rooms, two were full of loud and drunken voices. Holmes went over to the other doors and looked in through the key hole. At the second door, he nodded towards us and picked the lock on the door. Guns up, we entered the room and found Victoria unconscious with her hands behind her back on the floor. Sherlock wasn't moving either, but I could tell he was breathing. The only one who was awake was Irene, but she was making no attempts to free herself. She did not even blink, but looked up at us in a bored fashion.
Phillips ran to Victoria and got her into a sitting position and looked her over worriedly. I knelt beside her and checked her pulse, it was weak but there. Holmes went to Irene and untied her.
"What now Holmes?" Phillips whispered furiously, "We can't swim to shore, can we?"
"There's a rowboat hanging on the starboard side," I said suddenly, "We could escape in that."
"No, I don't think you will."
Great arms ripped the gun from my hand and shoved me to the ground. I heard a struggle above me and three more thuds resounded. Phillips was fighting because I could hear him cursing loudly and profusely.
"Shut him up already!" Moriarty's cold voice said and I heard a gun click. The young detective stopped immediately. "So, you thought you could sneak onto my property again without being caught? After that last intrusion, I increased security around me."
"Congratulations," said Holmes in a darkly sarcastic voice.
"I'd like to see you get out of this one Holmes," the Professor said, "There is no where to run on a boat. Cain, Michaels stand guard outside the door while Small stays in here. I want an update every quarter hour without fail, do I make myself clear?"
"Yes Professor!" three voices said.
The man pinning my arms back released his tight grip and leaned against the closed door after his two companions left. We now learned the wardrobe man's real name was Small, which was quite ironic. He watched us with a stupid grin on his face as he drank from his heavy, metal flask. Holmes shifted his cold gaze from the man to his daughter, who was now lying unconscious in Phillips' arms.
"Watson, I believe she was hit by a blunt object from behind?" he asked.
I stood up and went beside Phillips, rubbing my sore shoulders. There was a welt on the back of her head and a little bleeding.
"You are right Holmes," I said with a sigh, "But she should be fine, probably a little dazed when she wakes up."
"When will that be?" Phillips asked, pushing a strand of hair out of her face.
"She was obviously awake when they took her, as shown by the mess of her rooms," said Holmes, "So they must have hit her head to get her through the window. If that is true, she will be awaking within a matter of minutes."
"Or seconds actually," I said, seeing Victoria's eyes fluttered and she groaned, touching the back of her head.
"Detective?" she whispered, looking around, "Dr. Watson…Holmes? What are you doing here? Where are we? Where's Sherlock, is he safe?"
"Miss Holmes, everything's going to be just fine," said Phillips soothingly, "See, Sherlock's over there and he will probably be waking up soon, just like you."
Victoria looked over and saw her dog, whose eyes opened and his tail wagged lightly. Looking very relieved she leaned back, seeing to be content in the young man's arms. Holmes and I exchanged a look and tried to hide our satisfaction. Holmes then told his daughter and Irene of how we had heard the commotion and came too late both times, and then how we used a very smart dog to find them. Holmes was careful in what he said because of the big man named Small standing by the door in the room. When we finished, Victoria was silent as she petted her dog while Irene just nodded and lowered her eyes to the floor. Holmes looked at the older woman with concern and reached out to touch her arm but she shifted away and stood up, walking to the other side of the room.
"They really did want my uncle," Victoria whispered shakily, "That invention he was working on, they want it. Moriarty thinks it can be used to create new weapons that will change the face of crime forever. What happens now? What will they do to us?"
"We will think of something," said Holmes, turning his attention from Irene to Small with his calculating gaze.
"I will not let anything happen to you," Phillips whispered so quietly that I almost didn't hear it, "I am so sorry I left and I promise to make it up to you."
Victoria responded with a nod and wrapped her arms around her shoulders and leaned against his chest. I turned away to chuckle as I thought to myself how wonderful young love was.
Author's Note: Aww, I know the ending is corny and full of fluff but I couldn't resist. The next few chapters are darker so I thought I'd keep the mood light for now. Reviews are greatly appreciated as always so thanks in advance for your input! :)
