11. The Nightmare Before Christmas

            My dream for the past few days now had been the same. Well, it pertained to the same thing all the time: how I was going to kidnap Elena Watson. Ever since I placed the chip on her father, I was able to get the address. All I had to do was gather what I needed, and then I'd be off.

            I decided the time of the kidnapping would be night, as broad daylight was much riskier. It would have been a bolder move to try during the day, but I didn't want to risk witnesses. Still, if I had chosen the daytime, I would have taken care of them. Leaving behind an untraceable trail wouldn't be an issue for me.

            Today was the day, I decided. Tonight, I was going to do it with Heidi's help. I'd waited long enough. If I didn't do it soon, someone else would take my job. I wouldn't let that happen. It was my assignment and mine only.           

            It was a bit surprising to still have Jim lying next to me in the morning, I had to admit. Most mornings I woke up to find him gone from my room and sometimes gone from the mansion. He was a busy guy whose business never slept. I was lucky I wasn't like him. I could never do what he did and not manage to be driven crazy by it all.

            He had a wicked gift.

            "Today's the day," I murmured tiredly into my pillow.

            "I wish I was tagging along."

            "No, you don't. You've got better things to do than come along on a kidnapping." I stretched my arms out in front of me. "You need to keep up your reputation." He grabbed a hand of mine and kissed the back of it.

            "And you need to build yours," he reminded me. "Don't worry, you're getting there. A master status doesn't happen overnight."

            "It seems like it did for you." I grimaced.

            "I'm just that good."

            "Shouldn't you be somewhere?"

            "I should, but it's not for a while." I turned on my side, putting my head on his shoulder. "You're not nervous, are you?"

            "Not at all," I confirmed strongly. "Tonight will be easy, I'm sure of it. Whatever snags I hit I'll take care of."

            "Good."

            I shifted uncomfortably, feeling a light sting on my back. "Jesus, what the hell did you do last night?"

            "Don't act so surprised, you wanted to go rough."

            I winced. "I think I'm beginning to regret it."

            "You've never complained before about it."

            "It's probably because you didn't go as hard the past few times. This was extreme."

            "You're still alive, so stop complaining." He kissed my temple. "You'll be on your own for a few days, possibly. As soon as you leave, I am too."

            "What business do you need to take care of this time? Christmas shopping?"

            "Oh, right, it's coming, isn't it?"

            "We are in December. Don't tell me you'll be away just for shopping."

            "No. I'll be away for the usual. Now, tonight, remember what I said?"

            "Get the girl. If it comes to killing, I get the wife not the husband. I keep the girl alive."

            "Good. Oh, you may want to know a thing or two about Mary Watson before you go barging in there."

            "Like what?"

            "She's dangerous and was an assassin. I have no doubt if she catches you trying to steal her daughter, she'll turn into just that."

            "You couldn't have told me this sooner?" I didn't hide my frustration in my voice.

            "Would you have rather let me let you find out tonight?" he retorted. I couldn't think up a witty reply. "Just be careful around her, and you'll be fine. Don't underestimate her though."

            "How do you know what she was?"

            "I have my sources. I know people."

            "You know all kinds of people." I snorted. "How you manage to not step on any toes is amazing."

            "I know how everyone works, love. Besides, if I did step on some toes, nobody would get to me. Nobody really has. People have come close before though."

            "You're always a few steps ahead of everyone else," I concluded.

            "Precisely. Well, I better get ready. Have to be off soon."

            "Just don't walk around naked like you did that one time. You scarred Heidi, she freaked when she told me."

            Jim chuckled. "She didn't seem like it when she stared."

            "It's ungentlemanly of you," I said lightly. "It makes you seem immature. Put some underwear on—or pants—or whatever you people in England call them. I've been here for years, and I still don't understand what you call certain things." I pouted.

            I thought Jim would have left the bed stark-naked just to spite me, but he actually listened. Sometimes he could behave when he wanted to. Sometimes I felt like I had some hold over him.

            But most of the time, Jim Moriarty answered to no one but himself.

*      *      *

            "Thank God for today's technology," Heidi exclaimed as she made a turn. "You have to love the GPS in the phones now."

            The time had come all too quickly. Once Jim had left for whatever he was dealing with, that left me with hours to prepare myself. I'd made a checklist of things I needed: phone, cloth, pocketknife, the address, Heidi, and the car. It wasn't a really big list, but I didn't want to forget anything. I'd considered adding gas bombs to my list, but I didn't have time to ask the right sources for those.

            "Say, what's going on with Andrew? I haven't seen him for a while," I realized. The last time I'd seen him was when he had Sally Donovan kidnapped so he could exchange her for Heidi.

            "Oh." Heidi hesitated. "He was relocated."

            "What? Why?"

            "Jim saw he was a bit too distracted here."

            "Did you...?"

            "No, I didn't help him get sent off; he did that on his own. The kid should have known better than to have his feelings get in the way of things. It's not good in this type of business."

            "Where did Jim ship him to?"

            "I don't know. It happened so suddenly. I'd seen Andrew the night before he disappeared. The next day, it was like he never existed. I don't feel bad for the kid, he did it to himself."

            "So, there was never going to be anything with you two?"

            "We were partners in crime. That's as far as we went, girl."

            "Another turn here, Heidi."

            "What are we doing about Christmas?"

            I shot her a weird look. "We're doing an abduction and you want to worry about Christmas?"

            "Well, we do our annual Christmas Heist, don't we?"

            "It sounds like a dumb tradition."

            "But it isn't, and you know it."

            "I know," I agreed quickly.

            Like many people, we had our Christmas traditions. Heidi and I pulled off various heists at various stores. The stuff we came back with was pretty nice. Mostly we snatched up clothes and cash.

            "Are we hitting different places again?"

            "We might as well, shake things up a bit," Heidi admitted. "Once this is over, we'll make a plan. I guess this is your gift to Jim, isn't it, the girl?"

            "I guess so. I never thought of it that way."

            The rest of the car ride was silent. Heidi parked a small ways away from the Watson home to throw off any suspicion. I sat back in the seat, feeling the weight of the pocketknife and cloth in my pockets. Houses were decorated with Christmas lights, reminding me that the holiday was close.

            "You're sure you don't need me to help?" Heidi asked me. "I'm no killer, but I can kick some ass if you need me to."

            "I appreciate it, but this is something I have to do. If you see me in a hurry, don't hesitate to drive up so I can get in quicker. If everything's okay, still do it anyway."

            "I'll be here. Go. Make it quick too; you don't know if there are any nosy neighbors watching us already."

            "We'll deal with them if we get any."

            "Good luck."

            Lithely, I slipped out of the car. I had my hair pulled back into a bun, that way should there be anything physical; there wasn't a good chance of my hair being ripped off my skull. My attire didn't really help me as there was an abundance of light around. I didn't wear anything to hide my face; I wanted the Watsons to know that it was me who took their daughter. I wanted the credit for this.

            I avoided the dim lighting of the streetlights. I found the small gate that led to the Watson home. I kept myself collected even though I had the energy of a puppy right now. Take your time, don't get sloppy. In and out. If you have to, do what must be done.

            I crept up to the door, knowing that it would be locked. I should have taken a bobby pin out of my hair to get the door open, but my pocketknife was just as good. I kneeled in front of the doorknob, going to work. I bit down on my tongue as I concentrated.

            I knew my knife wasn't good just for murder. With some patience and precision, I got the front door unlocked. I inched it open wide enough to where I could slip through the gap and not knock the wreath off the door. Morons. Who doesn't think to install a security system? Maybe it's a silent alarm, or maybe they think they're so safe that they don't need one.

I paused as I took in the living room. It was probably a good size for the family of three. It didn't have much, but that's probably all they needed. It was decorated for the holidays; the tree was off for the night but looked abundantly decorated.

Nostalgia tried to distract me by making me remember my Christmases in New Jersey, most with my dad and Spencer, and the most recent ones with Dean when he'd moved in. Focus!

I kept my breathing mute as I slunk through the living room, seeking out the hall that would lead me to Elena's room. I exchanged my knife for the chloroform cloth, ready to knock her out further. I looked at the end of the hall at the closed door. That had to be where the Watson parents slept. Just hope they're heavy sleepers.  

            I found the bathroom before I found the girl's room. It was directly across from the bathroom. I peeked in, seeing her wrapped in her covers. She was a cute little girl. If I knew what her mother looked like, I would be able to see who she resembled more or if she represented her mom and dad equally.

            I tilted her head up and carefully put the cloth over her. She twitched a few times but settled back down. I was glad she didn't put up much of a fight—that would have created complications. I gathered her in my arms, adjusting to her weight. This was going great.

            I tiptoed out of Elena's room, not looking back. The door was just beyond my reach. My heart raced with adrenaline. This was much more exciting than stealing jewelry. This was right up there with committing murder. I doubted anything could top that, though.

            Click. I stopped abruptly. It wasn't from the door; it was from something behind me.

            "Put my daughter down," said a lethal, smooth voice. Mary Watson.

I inhaled deeply, not budging. I should have gotten those gas bombs. How did she know? I was practically mute! Maybe she had such acute hearing that she heard the freaking door unlock when I picked it.

The barrel of the gun poked my back. "Do it now." Mary kept her voice at a whisper.

            I obeyed, gently laying Elena Watson on the couch. The gears in my head were turning.

            "Don't run or I'll shoot. Turn around."

            Slowly, I turned around to meet Mary's gaze. I had to look down on her thanks to the height difference. In the dark, she looked more menacing despite wearing some feminine nightwear. The look on her face right now said it all: she was a dedicated mother who was willing to kill me.

            "Who are you?" she demanded.

            Wordlessly, I lunged for Mary, reaching for the gun. We nearly crashed into the tree behind her. Mary elbowed me, trying to knock me off her. My nails bit into her skin. She growled low in her throat, trying to buck me off her. I knocked the gun out of her hand. As she reached down for it, I took her to the ground, wrestling with her.

            "Mary?" called another voice. Shit. I really wish I had those bombs on me! "Mary, what's going on?"

            "John!" she cried. I backhanded her across the face, holding her one arm steady—the arm that was closest to the gun. "She's trying to take Elena!"

            I reeled back when Mary's fist connected with my jaw. I saw her go for the gun again. I've come too far for this. I'm not coming out of this house empty-handed.  I dived, getting my hands on the gun first.

Bang.

I hadn't realized my fingers were so close to the trigger. I looked, my eyes huge as I saw the hole I put in Mary.

            She was stunned, looking down at the hole in her. It was like we both couldn't understand what had just happened. But I did. I'd put a bullet in Mary Watson. I'd bought myself some time. I'd increased my chance of getting away injury-free.

            I'd also increased my chance of having a grudge held against me by John Watson.

            "Mary!" John panicked. I could hear his thundering feet. Time to go.

            As Mary crumpled to the ground in a bleeding heap near the tree, I ridded myself of the gun and scooped Elena up in my arms. The chloroform was some wicked stuff, so powerful that Elena was still out cold, unaffected by the gunshot. Surely neighbors heard the shot by now and were already phoning Scotland Yard. Nobody would get the chance to catch a license plate number from the car, we'd already be gone. That was a perk to Scotland Yard; they didn't get to the scene fast enough. Ordinary criminals would be taken into custody easily due to their lack of knowledge of how "fast" the police responded.

            But I was far from an ordinary criminal; I had enough run-ins with the police to improve my getaway time.

As I heard John continue his pursuit, I burst through the door. Heidi noticed my explosive exit. She pulled the car up, the engine purring as I sloppily climbed in the back. I fell sideways in the seat when something—a bullet—cracked the window. I kept down as the car sped away. I could hear John's muffled outrage and a few more cracks of gunshots as we fled the scene.

            I gathered Elena in my arms again, feeling my body shake. When you do plan to kidnap the girl, keep her alive. If things go awry, be ready to kill. Kill Mary Watson if you have to but leave Johnny-boy alone. I've got other plans for him. Was Jim planning that plot right now? What was he planning on doing with John?

            Somehow I had a feeling that Elena was just a small part in Jim's plan and that the plan pertained to the one and only Sherlock Holmes. Jim had never stopped obsessing over the consulting detective. He loved to play games with him. The new game was either just beginning or already had and I didn't know it.

            "Hit a snag?" Heidi asked, looking at me through the mirror.

            "Yeah." I caught my breath, sitting up. I adjusted Elena in my arms.

            "You're not hurt?"

            "No. I can't say the same for Mary Watson," I panted.

            "Did you kill her?"

            "Shot her. She could be dead right now; I got her in a bad spot."

            "Your voice is shaking."

            "It's only the second time I've shot somebody in my life, Heidi. I'm still not used to it."

            "When was the first time?"

            I sucked in a breath. "It was the day I left my old life behind me."

            "Bet it was the best decision you ever made, huh? What are we doing about the kid?"

            "I'll figure it out. You focus on driving, okay? Did any snoops see?"

            "Not that I could tell. We're home free. Just catch your breath and settle down."

            It was hard to calm myself down; my blood was still electric with adrenaline. Heidi looked like she didn't have a care in the world right now. Of course she would feel that way, she hadn't performed the abduction. She didn't have to wrestle Mary Watson and escape her furious husband.

I couldn't figure out how many people I'd killed since leaving America. I hadn't killed a huge amount, so I shouldn't have forgotten my body count.

            I probably just tacked on one more to my count tonight.

**[takes deep breath] So...that just happened. This is perhaps the darkest turn I've ever went on in any of my fan fictions. I'd never pictured doing a Sherlock fic like this before. But I don't regret it, it's a good test to explore my inner darkness. Yes, I have a dark side, just like you all do.

So, let's not come at me with pitchforks and torches. Some of you I'm sure love Mary, like I do. It wasn't easy for me to do it. I'm evil when it comes to these kinds of things. None of my works are this dark, but I do torture my readers. Ask some of them. 

Please do stick around for the rest of the story. :)**