Cat Got Your Tongue?
Part 8by Angel (aisumitsukai at home.com)
Yes, I actually got up and WROTE! Amazing...anyhoo, here
"You know what, Holmes?"
"You don't like being a cat?"
"How on Earth did I guess?..."
And so, Holmes and Lestrade faithfully completed their
relatively new-found morning habit. Neither were sure who had started
it exactly (though the present theory was that it had been Lestrade,
however strange that seemed), but every morning now, for the past
week (according to Holmes' makeshift calendar) they had a variation
of that conversation.
Things (as you might've guessed) were not exactly...
mind-stoppingly interesting for our feline heroes these days. In
fact, things were at an all time low. Holmes had long ago thought of
every single possible idea for Moriarty's present scheme, using all
the relatively non-existent evidence he had been able to get his
The bored detective in question glanced over at his
confederate. She'd curled up in a fluffy ball and was watching him
intently with narrowed eyes. "Is there something you want, Lestrade?"
"No, but you're usually the one that has interesting things
happen to him, so I thought I'd just watch you and escape while the
interesting thing is happening."
"A fool-proof plan, I'm sure." Holmes rolled his eyes and
returned his gaze to the door on the far side of the room.
At that very moment, Fenwick (muttering darkly to himself in
French) came through the afore-mentioned door. "Well, well, Monzieur
Holmes. The Mazter wantz you and the Yardie to change locationz!" He
picked up Monzieur Holmes and the Yardie's cage by a retractable
handle and hauled them off through the door.
Left, right, right, left... right, right, left, right...
left, left, left...right... Holmes made a mental note of their
route through the numerous darkened hallways. After a final 'left'
they came to a stop in front a non-descript fake-wood door. Fenwick
pressed his hand against the wall to the left of the door. A
computer pad sprang out and Fenwick tapped in the password after a
slight hesitation. The door opened with the hiss of a vacuum-lock.
(That IS a word.)
"I have brought them, Mazter." Fenwick placed the two
detectives on a metal counter before Moriarty.
The criminal mastermind smiled down maliciously at them.
"Hello again, you two! You're just in time to watch my newest plan
being put into action! What impeccable timing." He turned to Manuel
who'd been standing in a shadowy corner. "Press the button as soon
as the timer goes off...in Ten...."
Marissa tapped her fingers angrily against the plastic of her
lab desk. She was furious. If she'd known who those cats were in
first place...Manuel should've told her! The stupid, incompetent....
Marissa was a strange girl. She was a genius, but she had the
maturity of a seven-year-old. Some incurable mental disorder the
doctors had said...Marissa had spent her life trying to find her own
cure. She was the one Moriarty had hired to find a poison for those
detectives, she was the one who'd created that machine for the brain
transplants...it had been all her idea. Everything her brother was
famous for had been her. She couldn't deal with crowds or anything
like that, sooo, all her findings (the ones she and Manuel decided
to make public at least) were shown to the world through her
brother. She'd tell him all he'd need to know and he'd have it
patented and he'd go to the science conventions etc, etc. No one
knew about Marissa.
Manuel wasn't completely stupid himself (he just wasn't at
the same level as his sister), and he was much easier to hold
conversations with. Therefore Moriarty, having got all he needed
from Marissa, had started working only with Manuel (as an assistant),
leaving Marissa feeling quite useless and gypped. So there was no
love lost between Marissa and Moriarty.
(A/N: I have a thing for M's. Can you tell? I only just
Marissa was also very attached to animals. She'd (as I've
shown) pick them up off the street and keep them until her brother
found out and gave them away to the SPCA, saying she wasn't fit to
look after living creatures.
She'd become rather attached to her two newest pets even
though she'd only known them an hour at most. (Cats were her
favorite animal.) The fact that they were actually the people she
helped poison had made her rather angry...cats were so cute....
To make a long story short, she was determined to get back
her beloved almost-pets. She was even ready to let them go once she
had them back. She just didn't want that prat Moriarty to have
control of them. And so, grinning like a well-fed cat (just had
to do that), she leaned back in her chair and started her plan....
Have fun! ^_^
TO BE CONTINUED
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