The Jack of All Trades {Sherlock Holmes}

Chapter Ten

If Evelyn had the ability to scream foul words at the late hero of this story, she would. Alas, the only thing she could do is make sounds, and the only sound that was coming out of her mouth was a cry of frustration and worry as the weighted ball got closer to the plate that would shoot the arrow, destined to end her life.

Shan spun around, letting John see the familiar curly haired silhouette at the far end of the tunnel. She raised her gun and aimed, only to lose her target when he ducked into the shadows. One of the thugs holding Evelyn in place ran towards the darkness in which Sherlock hid.

"How would you describe me, John? Evelyn? Resourceful? Dynamic? Enigmatic?" He said, clicking the k-sound at the end of the last word.

"Late!" Evelyn tried to cry out in slight annoyance, her bond making it too muffled to decipher. Evelyn looked at the gun Shan was holding and studied it for a moment.

"That's a semi-automatic. If you fire it, the bullet will travel at over a thousand metres per second," Sherlock's voice rang through the tunnel.

"So?" Shan asked, moving slightly to shift her aim to where she had heard his voice come from.

"Well," Sherlock started, running out of the darkness and thwacking the thug across the stomach with a large metal pipe, not waiting for him to drop before immediately ducking back into the shadows.

"The radius curvature of these walls is nearly four metres. If you miss, the bullet will ricochet. Could hit anyone. Might even bounce off the tunnel and hit you." He spoke so fast, Evelyn almost missed it. She blinked at the walls before turning back towards the crossbow.

She jumped when Sherlock suddenly ran to the nearest dustbin, burning with fire as light, and kicked it over. John flinched at the sound of it, Evelyn barely jumping as Shan realized it was even more impossible to see that area of the tunnel.

Evelyn almost yelled out when Sherlock's hands were placed on her waist, the man squatting behind her before moving to untie her wrists. Neither noticed the last man running over to him with a long red scarf.

He wrapped the scarf around Sherlock's throat a few times, dragging him into a standing position away from Evelyn. She had to admit, the thought of Sherlock dying made her depressed because it meant that she would die, and then John would die.

It'd end up being a party of death.

She watches as the sandbag inching its way passed the counterbalanced weight that was on its way down to the plate. She closed her eyes as Sherlock tried once more to untie her, to no avail, as the man dragged him away again.

She misses everything.

She misses John realize that Sherlock isn't going to be able to free her in time. She misses him stand, which is almost impossible with his hands tied tight in front of him, and his ankles tied to the legs of the chair.

She misses him stumble forward before losing his balance. Even with the sound of battle, she doesn't open her eyes. She'd rather not see the arrow coming.

But she couldn't help but open them as her eyes filled with hate. Her gaze was locked onto her destined way of death, and John could clearly see all hope fading from her eyes, replaced with a look of revenge. Her legs were tied to the back legs of the chair. Even if she tried to move out of the way, it wouldn't be possible.

Flailing and groaning with the effort, John managed to squirm around on the floor, loosening one leg enough to kick upwards. It connected with part of the crossbow, causing it to shift slightly to the left just as the ball hit the plate.

She missed where it went, but from the sound of a grunt that was too deep to be Sherlock's, she realized it had hit the man that was choking him. In that moment, she was so relieved to be alive. Of all the stupid things she did that had ended in near death experiences, she had never come that close to death.

She couldn't help the tears and the anguished sobs that came from her shaking body. She closed her eyes, Sherlock's hands coming back to untie her.

"It's all right," he whispered, a very surprising soothing tone in his voice as he took the gag out of her mouth. "You're gonna be alright. It's over now, it's over."

She almost froze when his hands ran comfortingly down her arms before leaning to untie her legs. In all the time she had known him, when had he ever been kind? Never.

Her legs freed, she stood up shakily, nearly falling before Sherlock caught her, wrapping her arm over his shoulders. John looked up sadly, smiling wearily.

"I'm so sorry," he mumbled. "I promise, the next date won't be like this." She shook her head as Sherlock placed a reassuring hand on her waist, placing her back on the chair before going to untie John.

~~~~~~~~~~

The police questioned her thoroughly, but after bursting into tears once that day, almost dying, and having a disastrous date, she wasn't giving them anything but glares and cold comments.

She slipped off the shock blanket, refusing to put it back on as she watched Sherlock and John talking to Detective Inspector Dimmock. She assessed them. Sherlock's neck was already forming bruises, as were John's wrists. She felt bad for Sherlock. He'd have trouble speaking for a day or two, and she knew how he loved to insult people without trying.

Sherlock soon walked away from D.I. Dimmock, heading towards her, John at his tail. However, it seemed that John was more insistent on talking to her.

"I am so sorry," he apologized, putting his hands together in a pleading position. "I really didn't mean for this to happen, I ju-"

"John," Evelyn laughed quietly, holding up a hand to stop him from talking. "As fun as the circus itself was, this date was disastrous. And as kind as you are," she could see him readying himself for her words. "I don't think I'll be going on that next date with you."

He nodded sadly, but she continued. "But, I've got to be honest," she laughed, putting her hands on her knees. "That was the most exhilarating thing I've done in years!" John looked at her like she was insane, Sherlock just looked pleasantly surprised.

"Even though I just faced death by arrow, watched you almost get shot, and Sherlock almost die, that was the most fun I've had in a long time."

"Fun," Sherlock mumbled, "fun, how is almost dying, fun?"

"I've always loved the feeling of adrenaline," she admitted, looking up at him. "Anytime you have something like this happen, call me. I'd love to help." She looked directly at Sherlock as she spoke the next words.

"If you'll allow it." He looked directly back as he spoke his.

"We'll see."