Logic of the Sidhe
by Kira S. (alpineowl at hotmail.com)
Sherlock Holmes looked over the ruffian whom he, Watson and
Lestrade had captured earlier in the evening. Her hands were heavily
calloused but not roughly so, From the way her knuckles bent he could
deduce that she was a pianist and a quite avid one at that. Leaning
back in his chair in the sitting room of 221B Holmes steepled his
fingers in front of his face, "You are a CIA agent."
"Really?" the young woman said dispassionately. Her dark curls
were beginning to fall out of the loose braid she had tied them back
in, causing her to look younger then the twenty-five years she probably
was. Something outside the window caught her attention and she craned
her neck oddly to see it.
"You have to leave," she said suddenly. Her head snapped around
to look Holmes in the eye. Lestrade started to speak but the woman cut
her off. "You're right, Holmes. Mostly anyways; I’m ex-CIA. My name is
Calista Richards and right now you need to respect my professional and
get out of here. Now."
"You worked undercover as a Yard Inspector a couple years
ago," Lestrade said suddenly.
Calista grimaced at the mention of the past job but nodded.
"Yes, not my best work -- but you need to get out of here now."
"Why?" Lestrade demanded.
"I can’t tell you that."
"No, but it takes to long to explain."
"Awhile back, I rescued someone from an... organization.
Somehow they’ve managed to track me down and they’ve got blood on
their minds! Now release me and get the hell out of here before they
break down the door!" Calista's voice was hard and cold. Her
sea-green eyes seemed to contain the intensity of a hurricane as she
stared at Lestrade.
"Lestrade, we’d best follow the young woman’s advice," Holmes
stated, suddenly cutting off any more arguing between the two women.
The window shattered inwards, showering the occupants of the room
with shards of glass. Calista yelled something Holmes couldn’t
entirely decipher as a humanoid figure leapt up through the now
non-existent window. When Holmes got a good look at the creature,
his logical mind immediately rebelled; it was totally out of
proportion. Arms and legs moved too gracefully for their long
stick-like construction, and an oversized head was held far too high
for the long spindly neck to support.
"Thief!" the thing yelled, walking up to Calista. The spy
sneered in reply and was slapped hard across the face for her trouble.
"Show respect to your elders, mortal!"
Calista snickered, "I’d say you were the one lacking in manners,
Callengh. After all, you did just shatter Mr. Holmes' window."
Callengh’s china-white skin seemed to glow iridescently with
anger, "Who told you my name?"
"A little birdy."
Holmes stood up silently and made his way to Lestrade.
"Lestrade, deactivate those bonds. I fear we are putting Miss
Richards at a severe disadvantage."
Lestrade didn’t argue as she touched the button on a device
in her pocket. The neon-green energy bands dissipated and Calista
surged out of the chair she had been accompanying and into Callengh’s
midsection. The pair slammed into the couch and knocked it over.
Calista’s hand shot out and grabbed the iron fire poker by the
hearth. Callengh caught the cold iron rod as Calista swung it at him.
The humanoid hissed like he had been burned and scrambled away in a
"Get out!" Calista snarled, brandishing the poker like a sword.
Callengh managed to climb to his feet but retreated with a wild gleam
of panic in his eye. Calista glanced guiltily at the fallen couch
and shattered window. Turning to Holmes, Lestrade, and Watson she
gave an apologetic shrug and went on to explain, "That, ladies and
gents, was a member of the Manx Sidhe."
On to Part 3!
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