Hello beloved readers and reviewers!
anksenamoon : Merci merci! Contente que ça te serve à bosser ton anglais :p Bon on passe au chapitre serieux cette fois. Allez plot plot plot!
TheScienceODeduction : Swiching between the two couples is fun to write indeed, I found writing about Mycroft and Anthea is quite inspiring.
Boobunny60 : I compared Anthea to an oversized parrot and a horny octopus...Seems like comparing her to an animal is quite natural to me :) Who would you like me to compare with a bunny (not one taken on the headlights)? :p
hardcore-muffins : All right purple it will be :p Sherlock loves watching and we love watching him watching John, we are such virtual voyeurs :)
Miss Crookshanks : You naughty girl! (Oh! Rainbow cakes! Thanks)
helecolin : If you see him say 'hello-I-love-you-raaaaaaaah' for me please... ^^
All right, plot time!
Chapter 17 – Someone at the door
Penelope had worked well and when John and Sherlock came back to their room the pool of blood had vanished and the sheets had been changed. They lay on the bed, Sherlock pulled his lover close and they both fell asleep.
On the other wing of the mansion Mycroft and Anthea closed their bedrooms doors. And slept alone.
… … …
"Anything?" Sherlock asked while entering the dining room for a late breakfast.
"Linda Kadesky, born 7th July 1975, divorced, police inspector in Cardiff, working on a criminology thesis, subject : Psychopaths, geniuses in disguise." Anthea frowned then kept reading on her BlackBerry "Met DI Lestrade at the uni, been friends since, not lovers. Came to London three weeks ago to have a meeting with Professor Lewis, specialist in behavioural disorders and psycho-morphology. Stay at Martha Sparks' apartment in South Kensington, a friend of hers who currently lives in Australia. But she didn't show up for the last three days."
"Lestrade?" Sherlock poured tea in two mugs and gave one to John who was standing close to the table listening carefully.
"Still nothing, for the moment." Anthea said and Sherlock nodded.
"How come you can find so many informations on Linda and nothing on Lestrade, have you checked CCTV, traced his phone, been to his house?"
Mycroft gave a 'don't think I'm an amateur!' look to John.
"Sorry..."John sighed and sat on a chair "I know you do everything you can but...After what happened last night I think it's quite obvious Moriarty is behind Lestrade's disappearance and...I can't help myself being scared for him." Sherlock put a hand on his thigh and searched his lovers eyes.
"I know you're concerned my love, but we must wait, at least a little longer." The detective said locking eyes with John's.
"If Moriarty abducted Lestrade, why keeping him alive now we know it wasn't him who sent the text?" John said weakly.
"Because it affects you." Sherlock sighed "And because he must think having a hostage is useful."
"What about Harrison?" John turned to Mycroft.
"Harrison is still in no shape to talk. Still, we can say he wasn't drugged. Anthea?"
"Robert Harrison, born 3 December 1984, single, only child, parents dead in a car accident when he was 18, joined the army in 2003, assigned to the manor's security one year and a half ago, service record : faultless." She turned to John "Seems to me that man is a blank page, which means to good to be true."
"Anyway," Mycroft sighed "a new contingent of soldiers will arrive at dusk, we can't risk another surprise like this one, believe me the new comers have been double and triple checked."
Sherlock frowned, something was wrong, but he just couldn't find what
... ... ...
"Sherlock?" John was spooning the detective and running his hand in his curls, gently combing them with his fingers.
"Mmmm?"
"What are you thinking?"
"I was thinking about your face last night, in the bathroom."
"I was talking about Lestrade."
"It's an obsession, should I be jealous?"
"Please, Sherlock, be serious."
"I'm absolutely sorry, my love, but since we are locked in this mansion there's nothing we can do about his disappearance."
"This is ridiculous!" John moved away from his lover and sat on the bed's edge. Sherlock sighed and sat next to him. "He is in danger because of us, because of this mad man, who is tracking you. This fucking game you have!"
"John..."
"Don't John me!" The doctor made a face "Well, you know what I mean! Lestrade is collateral damage, this, John showed the place with his hand, is collateral damage."
"I think you are suffering from claustrophobia, John. Maybe you should stop talking right now."
"Stop talking, stop thinking but keep on fucking?"
"You're unfair."
"I need some air." With this words John stormed out the room and Sherlock followed shouting his name.
John needed time for himself, feeling that useless drove him mad. He knew he'd been an arse talking to Sherlock this way but he couldn't help the words spill out of his mouth. He knew as well he wouldn't go far outside of the mansion, especially in the dark but he needed to walk and forget that Sherlock was still following him. He was down the stairs facing the door when it opened suddenly and a man dressed in an elegant black suit appeared in the threshold.
"What the hell?" John shouted stopping abruptly.
"Hello dear, it's so nice to see you again but you shouldn't have gone and met me! Oh! I got it, you missed me! How cute!" Moriarty said in his high pitched voice.
"You bastard!" John said through clenched teeth and dashed in the mad man's direction.
"John!" Sherlock screamed, the doctor turned around and saw a red dot on his lover's forehead. He turned back and watched his own chest where two red dots had appeared.
"Hope you don't mind I came with some of my friends." Moriarty whistled and two armed men came inside the house "Maybe I should let the others outside, we don't want the place to be too crowded, do we?" He took a step inside the hall and put his hands in his pants pockets "Now where is your Big Brother? Mycroft, where are you?"
Mycroft went out of the study followed by Anthea and a man aiming at them.
"Mycroft!" Sherlock called and his brother gave him a nod, he was all right, they were all right.
"My dear Mycroft what a beautiful mansion you have here, glad you invited me." The mad man smiled widely. "How nice to be all together! Since I am polite I brought you a gift." He turned and watched as one of his men came in pulling a tied up man in his path, Lestrade.
"Geoffrey, are you all right?" John was relieved but tried not to show it too much.
"Yeah..." The DI said in a weak voice. He really looked like shit, his shirt was out of his pants and crumpled, he had a hole in the front of his jacket and his face was bruised.
"How did you manage to make so many of my men work for you and where is the contingent that was supposed to arrive tonight?" Mycroft asked coldly.
"That is a really funny story, I'm sure you want to hear it, but let's settle ourselves in a more comfortable venue. Study everyone?"
They all went to the large study saluted and welcomed by another burst of red dots. How many were they outside? Enough to kill them all with one shot, that was the only certitude they had.
"Oh, look at this mantelpiece, magnificent! You Holmeses have really good tastes in decoration." He jumped in front of the mirror laughing like a child. "If I had such a huge mirror I'd spend all my days watching myself, jumping and making faces." He made faces. That man was absolutely insane. He turned around facing his 'guests' his facial expression serious, his eyes icy. "The contingent has been...delayed, I'm afraid they won't make it to the mansion tonight. I've taken the liberty to replace them with some of my men. The guards that where supposed to leave tonight have been...well...eradicated. Hope they weren't friends of yours."
"You bastard!" John hissed.
"They should have recognised us as the bad guys. Bad soldiers!" Moriarty pouted.
"Will you tell us what this is all about?" Sherlock said darkly.
"Oh come on Sherlock, this is all about you of course!" The mad man said happily. "I followed you, tracked you down, made you come here because, well because it was fun, and because I want to look you in the eyes when I kill the people you love the most. Or have them killed. Expensive suit." The mad man grinned and noticed de inquiring look on Sherlock's face. "Oh no! I won't kill you, I'll kill them all and leave you there, broken and angry, and give myself an absolutely pissed nemesis! Oh that's good, that's good." Moriarty clapped his hands and jumped again. "So, Sherlock, who dies first?"
... ... ...
Love me? Hate me? Anyway review (please)...