It was a long time before we allowed ourselves to rest and that was only after we had removed ourselves from Rome, riding along in a carriage headed toward the coast. Sherlock sat with wide eyes staring blankly at the ceiling of the cart we were in. His knuckles white as his hands gripped the purple velvet seats across from me. I caught myself watching him and his strong jaw brushed with black stubble.
I pulled my eyes away and directed them to the ground at my feet clad in brown, well worn, leather boots. My hand trailed up my neck to pull the sweaty shirt away from my neck and wave it to conduct wind to my heated, damp skin. I glanced around to make sure neither man was watching me and then gave myself permission to pull off the heavy layers I had been wearing. I pulled my arms from my waist coat and layed it on the bench beside me heavily. My hands laced their way up to my hair and started attempting to pull the debris and knots from my tangled curly hair.
"Don't," Sherlock said quietly. I glanced up, curious.
"Why?" I questioned as my hand continued to work the foreign bodies from my tresses.
"It will add to the affect." He answered. "I have not formulated a complete plan just yet. However I am certain we will pass ourselves off as a traveling group of bagabons. Your picture will spread across Europe faster than any criminal's picture has before. You need to look the least like you as you can."
"There is a man in Bulgaria..." I started
"No." Sherlock shook his head, his face grave. "We can trust no one. Especially any other criminals. Your kind have a terrible habit of handing each other over to the authorities when it suits you."
"That's not true." I interjected heatedly. "Do not speak of what you dont know. You will end up looking like a fool."
"Do tell!" He exclaimed half in humor. "When have I ever made a fool of myself?"
"Stop it." Watson spoke up. "Both of you. Stop fighting. You bicker like children, rather than accomplishing our goals and finding a solution to this massive problem."
"We have no options." I whispered lowly. "You lied to me. When I could have fixed it. Right then. Right there."
"Did I lie?" Sherlock asked "No, you would be no use to anyone dead."
"Is that it then?" I smiled and half laughed. "You intend to make good use of me then? Hand me over to the authorities to face my death, collect your reward and flee?"
"How dare you!" Sherlock flared his nose and leaned forward dangerously.
Watson gripped his shoulder and pulled him back harshly. "You'll stay put Holmes."
"Now think," John urged. "What can we do to prevent this?"
"Theres nothing left." I answered solemnly. "That was the end back there. Now there is only running and watching everything collapse."
"Your melancholy talk is not welcome," Watson scolded. "We want solutions. Not a couple of immature loons wallowing in their own self pity."
"Im not a-" I began but John cut me off.
"I dont care. Now stop. Both of you must compose yourselves. Your both being highly emotional and irrational and it doesn't help with fixing this problem."
John sat back and once again the only sound that existed in the hot air in the carriage was the sound of the wheels rolling outside on the cobblestone roads built by the ancient Romans.
John looked up suddenly and around at us with wide eyes. "All we need to do is take away the factories! Its their only form of income."
"Cut it off at the source." Sherlock nodded as he straightened his back and the fire in his eyes re-kindled."
YOU ARE READING
Sherlock Holmes and the Red Maverick
FanfictionA bank robber is caught under peculiar circumstances and as Sherlock invests further he finds that the bank robber was involved with sinister folk. As Sherlock investigates the strange story the bank robber has to tell he finds that there is much mo...
