Then he saw her, more out of the corner of his eye than looking at her straight on. She seemed to teleport from one place to another, leaving a slight breeze in her wake that kissed his throat, feeling for a moment as if he were back in London on a chilly day without a scarf. His heart skipped and he didn’t turn his head to look at her, only followed her expected trajectory with his eyes, as if frozen in time. The hallucinations were getting worse, he had no time to waste. He was at a disadvantage if time was slowed for him, if she had that much speed on him in this state. Who knew what she was capable of, even as she sat there, reading her naturally-aged book. That was no stain or craftsmanship, he looked at the spine and knew that it was an original. Just like all of the artifacts in this room. If he could prove she was procuring these objects on the black market, it might lead him closer to Moriarty or at least fill his hands with a hefty paycheck for the time being. It was never really the money, though. He got high on this. The chase. The danger. But he didn’t fancy dying here, while there remained so many unanswered questions about this place, while that spider remained out there spinning his web.
And so, trying to knock loose her words about adrenaline, fear, panic, frustration, he gripped tightly to the invitation. “Don’t mind if I do.” First, he searched her shoes measuredly. Nothing inside them. With that, he pulled the small lamp out of its socket with a yank, knocked off anything he could get his hands on on the surface of the desk systematically, silently, ignoring any protestations if there were any. After all, did she expect his respect for her property after she’d drugged him? No syringe. As he stepped around the desk at. a careful but purposeful pace, he knelt down and opened the drawers. Sand, makeup, makeup remover, files, paperwork, more trinkets, he didn’t care, didn’t care, didn’t care. He knew what he wanted to find and so, leaving the desk drawers open, he strode over to Sadji herself, breath slightly shallow from nearly destroying the desk in front of him.
“Okay,” he said, raising a finger, betraying abject anger in the curl of his lip and that unusual brightness to his eyes, “We went through it all. What you didn’t do. You’re clever, but you haven’t outrun me just yet. I also ruled out all of those delivery methods, yet you remain silent on the first and only suggestion I made.” He was moving quickly too. For a human. He leaned over her to see the words on the page she was reading. French. Something about curses, hell, maggots, the title clearly stated ‘Vampire’, he’d seen what he needed to know.
“I was willing to entertain you a little, you’ve had your fun and now I must apologize for what I’m about to do.”
Without warning, he blocked her with his own body where she sat on the couch and quickly skimmed her top with the backs of his fingers, down the side, briefly over her skirt, there wasn’t even the suggestion he was aroused by what he was doing. His life was at stake if she was insisting on bargaining for his safe release or a downer to counteract the effects of this. He tried to slip his hand behind her and was nose to nose with her as he nearly shouted, “Where is the syringe?! Tell me! Tell me what you injected me with! You know damn well, you stuck me while I was looking you over, what do you want?!”
This side of Sherlock was a sign that only John and a handful of people on this earth had witnessed. The detective nearly foaming at the mouth, vein popping from his neck ass he attempted to get the knowledge by force, when he was racing against the clock, when he knew he was at a disadvantage. Even Sherlock Holmes had to get rough with people, shake them up if they didn’t talk. It was just rare that he was put in such a position. It was like witnessing the passing of a comet. Something bright, flashing, crashing down from the heavens themselves. Oh, he was still every inch the detective he was in the best of situations. He was just pulling out all the stops, now. Sadji was different from Irene in one respect… she hadn’t lost to him yet, which made her a very dangerous woman, indeed.