The Game's Afoot

Chapter Five

Sherlock barely noticed when it was dark out. He was too excited by the new "game" that had been dropped into their lives. The Greenwich Pips, the phone calls, the victims. By now, John had realized that nothing was going to snap him out of the detached detective mode until they confronted Moriarty. And who knew when that would happen.

John sighed quietly, driving through the darkened streets. Sherlock was agitated, staring at the phone intently as if by staring at it, the game would resume. "Sherlock, why do you think he's doing this? I mean, there's no purpose to this whole game. And you are going along with it! People are dying, Sherlock." His knuckles were white with pressure on the steering wheel.

Sherlock spoke in a clipped tone. "People die. But people are dying differently than they usually do. I can't HELP THEM UNLESS I KNOW THE FACTS. And the facts are, that I don't have any facts until this phone rings."

The man in the front seat just kept his eyes straight ahead and parked in the lot. They walked in silence through the dark London streets and opened the door to 221B. The pair were immediately attacked by Mrs. Hudson. "BOYS! Why haven't you answered your phones? I've been calling you all day!"

She looked even more worried than usual, her hands twisting anxiously on her apron, as she looked back and forth between them. "Ah, Mrs. Hudson. I'm sorry, I left my phone at home." Mrs. Hudson narrowed her eyes. "Well, then, Sherlock, care to explain why Emma is missing?"

John looked at Sherlock. "Missing? Did you know about this?" Sherlock made no sign that he had heard him. John turned back to Mrs. Hudson, who was glaring intently at the taller man. "I am so sorry Mrs. Hudson, do you know where she might be? We dropped her off here around 2, but we haven't been home."

Sherlock just rolled his eyes and clomped up the stairs, "I KNOW WHERE SHE IS. Come upstairs, both of you."

John and Mrs. Hudson just looked at each other and followed up the stairs.

After Mrs. Hudson was seated on the couch (with a cup of tea),  Sherlock began explaining, albeit annoyed with them, as if he shouldn't have to explain.

"Moriarty is just messing with us. He's trying to distract me from something that really matters. He knows that I know this game well enough by now, and is trying something new to make me lose focus."

John leaned forward in his seat, "But what does that have to do with Emma." Sherlock sighed, and leaned forward in his chair, not looking at them. He placed his hands together in front of his face, closing his eyes. 

"Emma. He thinks he can distract me by taking her. Or having people go into emotional panics, thus distracting me. But it won't work, Mrs. Hudson. Lock the doors, and stay inside. John and I have someone to see."

He stood up and started thudding down the stairs. John and Mrs. Hudson looked at each other. Mrs. Hudson was on the verge of tears, "John, she is very important to me."

"I know, Mrs. Hudson, I have to go help Sherlock, now, I-" John pointed towards the door but was interrupted by Mrs. Hudson.

She stamped her foot on the ground, "No! You do not understand! She is going to come home to me and she is going to be protected. She and her father are the most important people to me! And I WILL NOT HAVE THIS SQUABBLE BETWEEN SHERLOCK AND A CRIMINAL HARM HER!"

John nodded and looked down at his feet, "I understand Mrs. Hudson, I'll make sure Sherlock understands too."

Mrs. Hudson just patted his hand, and picked up her and Johns mug and headed downstairs. "I don't know what I was thinking, leaving her with you two," she shook her head and headed back downstairs into her kitchen, to anxiously await the return of the resident sociopath and her granddaughter.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Meanwhile, somewhere in the UK...

"Lokitty! Get off of her" Sophia yelped from across the room, as one of her cats climbed onto Emma's head. She rushed across the marble floors and scooped the cat down and into her arms, scolding him.

"Sorry, he likes to feel tall."

Emma shrugged, "It's completely fine..." She opened her mouth and sneezed loudly, "Sorry, I'm slightly allergic..."

Sophia made a pouty lip at her cat, "Come on, dude, she's allergic," she looked back at Emma, "I'm so sorry. You probably want to take a shower, I'm sure I can find a bathrobe for you and some new clothes while I wash those."

Emma nodded, "Yeah, sorry, I've always wanted a cat, but unfortunately I haven't been able to get one on account of having allergies."

Sophia showed her to the shower and how to work it. She left the bathroom and Emma changed into this huge fluffy bathrobe and left her clothes outside as Sophia said. When she turned the water on it immediately got hot and steam filled the room. Emma took a few breaths in, You're fine. You're going to take a shower, then you probably will get dropped off at your house. 

The bottle of shampoo slipped out of her hands. Emma tried to breathe, but felt dizzy and put her hand on the wall. The room went dark, for the second time in what she assumed was less than twenty-four hours. She felt her head hit the ground, and she was out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sophia hummed as she threw her new friend's, (were they friends now?) clothes in the washer. She decided to head back to the library and finish her book before Emma's clothes were ready to be put in the dryer.

A little while later, when her clothes were dry and Sophia had made her way through another half of a thick novel, Emma still wasn't back. Sophia had left her clothes by the bathroom door over half an hour ago.

She thought about it for another minute before a realization rolled over her, "Oh heck to the no." She quickly put her bookmark in place and ran back to the dining room. Except instead of a dining room table and chairs, there was a metal box, that Sophia assumed was bomb-proof.

 It was all painted gray and there was a certain girl in a fluffy bathrobe tied up in a chair in the middle of the box, looking angered, scared, and ticked. Several bombs were strapped to her chest, the timer ticking away. 

Sophia put her hands up, "I swear this wasn't me," she turned to a camera, "Dad! I'm gonna untie her and we're going to treat her like a proper frickin guest." 

Moriarty opened the door and walked in, "We wouldn't want to do that, now would we?" He talked in a high pitched voice, he stood in the entrance, grinning with his arms crossed, as if to say, I dare you. Make the move.

Sophia rolled her eyes and resisted a serious urge to flip him off. Although it was a stupid thing to do, she turned to disable the bombs on Emma. Then next thing she knew, she had been hit in the head by a hard object and was sprawled on the ground.

"No fair," she mumbled, "You said no more concussions.." Sophia tried to look up through the haze of pain. "Aree youu kiddiing me?" She slurred and collapsed against the floor.