Like a Scene from a Play

Chapter 1: The Surprise

"Alright, everyone, here is what will go down." I stand at a bus stop, waiting, while on the phone. I am tall for a sixteen year old, at 5'9', with a muscular, androgynous build, a sharp face and a strong glare. "A and B, you guys will go in and secure that the victim is still there. Close off all exits, and then signal. C through G, you will already be in the building, and when you see the signal, start getting the victim into position. You know the drill. H, I, J, you guys will be waiting at the end goal, to collect the victim. All wait for my first signal. I-" My watch buzzes, and I see an incoming call from Jim. "Ok, hold on. Wait for me to give the ok, remember?" I switch calls as I get on the bus. "Hello, Jim dear. All is ready for you. What do you need?" "My lovely Cam, what would I do without you? I am so pleased to hear everything is set. Like a scene from a play, every time. Same plot, same actors, every time." "Ah, yes, so poetic. But what is it that you need? You wouldn't call me in the middle of this if you didn't need anything." "Love, you know me so well. I think it's time for me to reappear. With you by my side. Out to the WORLD! Would you be okay with that?" I froze. I had never been famous to the world, like Sherlock and Jim and Dr John Watson... John... Somehow, he seemed so familiar. Like an old memory, a faded photo. Heh, it sounds so stupid. But enough of that. I was never the spotlight, I was the Stage Manager, always making sure that everything ran smoothly, even Jim's fake death. "I... Uh, I will be right back." I quickly switched phone calls again. "Ok, A to J you are a GO! Get them, and be fast. Moriarty doesn't like to wait." "Yes, Mx." I end that phone call and return to Jim. "I don't know... Do you really think I would be good in the spotlight?" "Why, yes, but only if you want to be. Although... I should tell you something first." "What?" "Your last name... Well, your first last name. Come to me and I'll tell you. Bye for now love!" He hung up, and I turned off my phone and stared out the window, seeing nothing and everything at the same time. What could my real last name be? And... Why now? Why would Jim choose to tell me now? It's not like I ever asked to know, no matter how much I cared to know. Some things aren't known for a reason. Was it important to an act? I can't seem to think of how...

The bus stops at a commonly used stop, and I hop off with a bunch of other people, then started walking to Jim's most secretive bolthole. I had been taught to use caution and secrecy, even though to the eyes of most of London I didn't exist. My birth records and adoption papers were buried deeply, and I doubted they were online, instead existing as actual papers. If the police knew to look for me, they would have trouble finding me, and by the time we found out, one of our men could sneak in and steal the papers before the police even knew where to look! And yet, today, I felt like I was being watched. I looked around, and saw two men sitting at a cafe, both staring in my direction. John Watson and Mycroft Holmes. What the hell? Are... Are they looking at me? Are they watching me? Shit, this isn't good. I picked up my pace as a Jaguar crawled up beside them. I looked back right before I turned the corner, and noticed that both had gotten in, and the car was now crawling away... Following me? The second I turned, I ran for it. The car picked up speed, and I heard it roaring behind me, quickly approaching. I saw the door to the bolthole up ahead, a block away, and I knew that they would catch me before I could reach it. Suddenly, my watch buzzes, and I look down at it. -Dear, come into the bolthole, let them follow you. I think it's time.- I sighed in relief, a smile forming on my lips, my legs pumping faster. The car was ahead of me, but they couldn't cut me off before I could lead them into what was surely a trap.

I ducked into the bolthole door, closing but not locking it behind me. Up the stairs three at a time, and bursting into the empty room. "Door is unlocked but closed, I will be in the back room if you need me." I turn to go hide, but Jim grabs my arm and stares at me. "Watson. Your last name is Watson. John is your father. Now, you need to hide. I don't want them getting to you today."I stare at him, surprised, then march off to the back room, to quickly process this information. Shit... John Watson, blogger, doctor, and target of Jim... Is my father? What the HELL? Well, ok, it is a surprise, but there are more important things going on right now. Like my grand entrance into the world. My favourite coat sat in the room, and I pulled it on. It was long, but not too long, with an epic collar that flipped up nicely against the cold. My houndstooth scarf was in there too, and I stuffed it in a pocket, somehow fitting it alongside my leather gloves.

I listened for a hint that the show was about to begin. And then the curtains rose, the lights dimmed, and Scene One commenced. "Thank you for leaving the door unlocked, it was quite a curtesy." "Oh, but of course. Wouldn't want you to go through all the trouble of trying to break it down. It is a very nice door, wouldn't you say?" "Yes, well, I'd agree. But we aren't here to talk about a door, nice or not." "Well, then, what are you hear for? Trying to get me back into the world?" "Not exactly... That girl th-" "THEY ARE NOT A GIRL! THEY HAVE NO GENDER YOU IDIOT!" Silence. "Gosh, what does it take for someone to be polite these days? Haha, jeez. Sorry, you were saying?" "Uh, yes, I was saying that that... child... that came in here? We need to speak to them." "What about?" "Their father, and I don't mean their adopted father. I mean John. I'm sure you know." Jim laughed. "Yes, yes I do. And so do they. I told them just before you came in. I assume it means nothing to them, but how would I know? They are just part of my team, like all the rest." I step out of the dark room, long coat swept around me, collar flipped up, eyes steely grey and cold, face sharp and molded to the point where one glance from me could kill. "Lies," I hiss, my voice slightly deeper than anyone would expect out of me. "Lies... And slander. You," I turn to Jim, glaring with all the built up anger I had. He laughed nervously, and I clenched my jaw. "You knew, since forever, that he was my father. And yet you never thought that you should tell me? That you should tell me, your adopted child, that you are pitching them against their own father? Oh, no, not until now I suppose, when you shove me into the back room seconds after telling my my real last name? For what? What do you gain out of this?" My voice went from being quiet yet strong, to loud and terrifying, the words just pouring out. "If you thought you would win the upper hand, well you're damn wrong! I can no longer work with you. I will still not exist to the world, but to you, I will be your best enemy." My voice lowered again, and I stared into his eyes, seeing fright, anger, and sadness in them. "I will see you on the battlefield, Moriarty." I whispered, snarling at him. He leaned back, and stared at me, speechless. He looked so different than I had ever seen him. He looked lost, alone and afraid. I didn't care, he had no righ to hide my birth father's name from me until seconds before I was supposed to unknowingly meet him for the first time. I turned, and swept out of the room, leaving the three men stunned. The second I got outside, I quickly walked away, hailing a taxi as soon as I could. "Where to, sir?" I shudder at the improper pronoun, and look out the window. "Downtown library please. I need to get away from here."