Requested by: CactusCarfter24

Prompt: #19

"You think I'm the damsel in distress don't you? Newsflash, you're the one who's gonna need saving."

#21 

"Oh no."

"What?"

"I think I'm feeling emotions."

"You've got to be kidding me."

Warnings: None

Extra:

~*~

Waking up in a dark room wasn't an uncommon occurrence for me. Keeping the company I did meant strange mornings on special occasions. Stretching out my hands, I got a feel for the ropes around my wrists. They were thin, easy to get out of, and softer than normal rope should be. My feet weren't bound, and I wasn't tied to anything specific.

"What's the special occasion?" I struggled to my feet, trying to peer around the room, "Don't tell me this is what you got me for Christmas."

A TV lit up across from me, the light nearly blinding compared to what I'd been dealing with previously. A grinning, familiar face greeted me.

"I'm bored hiding out all the time. I love our little games. Besides, don't you want to be able to relax? I know you have that competition coming up."

"Don't make this about me, Jim. I should be practicing right now. Why couldn't you get me an expensive necklace or something? Maybe a gift card? If you can afford buildings like this then you can afford that."

"But that's no fun! Being a criminal overlord means nothing if you can't torture your friends a bit along the way."

Getting a better feel for the ropes, I carefully time it and jumped so my hands were at the front of my body, then I found the loose knot and used my mouth to pull it loose and finally free my hands.

"I'm your only friend Jim, and sometimes I wonder why I shared my toys with you," Jim smiled proudly as the rope dropped to the ground, "I'm supposed to be at a practice tomorrow afternoon. Am I going to make it?"

Shrugging, all Jim said was, "I'll give you some clues along the way. This'll be my best one yet. Have fun!"

And the screen clicked off. Groaning, I began my search of the room. It was smaller than I expected when I actually walked the length of it. At first feel the walls seemed to be painted, but when I reached the corner I felt something peeling. It was painted over wallpaper.

Digging my nails under it, I gave it a harsh pull. It peeled off in a large chunk, and I moved on to each section until all of the walls were clear and the floor was covered in paper. Running my hands over again, I quickly found the door that would lead me to the next room.

This room was brighter, with a window. I considered trying to open or break the window and escape for a second, but I knew I'd end up back in the house again the next day and Jim would complain about how ungrateful I was for his Christmas present. So I simply observed the room. There was a bathroom off to the side which I'd gladly take advantage of in a second, and a table with a chair in the middle of the room.

"Jim! You suck!" On the table was a puzzle, and I knew a door wouldn't up until I finished it.

"It's only 200 pieces (Y/n). You know I do this to keep you sharp."

"You know I do this to keep you sharp," I echoed angrily.

The amount of times I wanted to break out just to have a break was immeasurable. But I finally got through it. The wall across from my chair slid up, and I moved on. This was a bedroom. A rest stop with another bathroom and a bed in the corner. Peeking in the last room, I could confirm that night had fallen. Sighing in exasperation, I knew I wouldn't make my early morning practice the next day.

On the bathroom counter was both a set of pajamas and a new pair of clothes - both of which seemed expensive. At least Jim could manage some normal Christmas presents. I showered and changed, crawling into the comfortable bed, wondering how much longer I'd be trapped in Jim's little house of horrors.

The next morning, a loud buzzing woke me up.

"Rise and shine, (Y/n). It's time for day two! If you aren't stupid, you'll figure things out pretty easily today. Plus, I have a few surprises in store."

"Shut up, Jim," I groaned tiredly, already becoming annoyed by the house. In the past, I'd have to solve a room or two and could move on. It was a fun game between me and Jim. But he went all out for his early Christmas present in the wrong way.

Another door slid open and I stepped into a small kitchen. The cupboards held the ingredients for several servings of breakfast. Glad for the break and food, I quickly made something and sat down at the table to eat.

Halfway through my plate, another door slid open and two men practically fell into the room. The room behind them looked like a legitimate torture chamber, but neither of them were hurt. While they were recovering, I got over my shock and realized who they were.

"Sherlock Holmes and John Watson," I greeted, unsurprised, "I'm assuming Jim lured you here. Welcome to my Christmas present."

John Watson seemed extremely confused, and uttered, "We uh, received a case from your coach stating that you were missing."

"Oh, I get it! You think I'm the damsel in distress don't you? Newsflash, you're the one who's gonna need saving."

John's face became even more confused but Sherlock simply adjusted his coat and sat down in the extra chair across from me. He was staring, observing and analyzing every part of me. I didn't have much to hide. I was friends with Jim Moriarty but that didn't mean I worked for him or knew of his plans. I was simply a victim of his riddle houses on occasion.

"(Y/n) (L/n), famous figure skater. Childhood friend of Jim Moriarty. One cat and one dog. No significant other, and no family concerned enough with you well-being to call before your coach. So please do explain, why did a long dead Moriarty contact us and lead us to the country and put us through three trials that could have ended in death only to hand you right over."

Finishing my breakfast, I set the plate in the sink. By that point, the door John and Sherlock had come through had closed and another one had opened.

"This is my Christmas present. Jim and I have been friends since we were children. I guess it's hard to break such a bond, even if one of you is a maniac. This is his version of a Christmas present. He does little riddle houses like this for special occasions. I'm used to it by now, but he said this one would be special."

"Well, you don't seem smart enough to be in on any of his plans," Sherlock sighed, rubbing his temple.

"Hey! I'm in the public eye all the time, I can't be caught fraternizing with a famous criminal. He loves his little crimes, I don't. Now, would you two like to get out of this place? Or will I have to proceed on my own."

The pair moved to the corner of the room to share a whispered conversation. I didn't bother trying to listen in on it. I knew they were just arguing over how to proceed. Instead, I stepped into the next room expecting them to follow.

A large TV screen took up an entire wall. A picture of a man and a woman was blown up on it. When Sherlock and John finally followed behind me.

"Lovely Sherlock, this is for you. Tell me everything about this couple and you'll be able to move on," Jim sang over the speaker.

Squinting his eyes, Sherlock stared down the static couple in front of him, finally, he spoke rapidly, "Both of them are having numerous affairs based on the way their smiles are strained and their eyes don't meet. The wife is pregnant, her hand is on her stomach. Her right hand, she doesn't think it belongs to the husband. The husband is both an avid gun buff and a doctor, glove and gun powder residue on the hands. The wife is a real estate agent, straight posture and outfit. They got married young and only remain together because they realize how detrimental a divorce would be to both of their assets."

"Impressive," I hummed. All I could get from the picture was that they seemed to be a happy couple with a big house behind them, hence the high-paying jobs.

The next room was designed for John, created to look like a gun range. Without hesitation, John picked up each of the weapons in front of him and shot a single bullet dead center at the target. It was a cool trial to watch.

The last room was definitely my favorite. The largest room out of all of them, it was a mini-ice rink. A pair of ice skates sat in front of the entrance. I gasped, they were immaculate. They fit all of the regulations for competitive skates, but the blades themselves were engraved.

"Better than a necklace," I whispered, tracing a finger over the letters.

"I know how hard you've been working on your latest performance, so I thought you could do some other skating to get your mind off of it. Complete your Olympics free skate without any mistakes."

"Shit." I stared out at the ice nervously.

"What's wrong? Aren't you great at this?" John asked, hearing me swear.

"I am, but-"

"Her latest Olympic free skate consists of a quad jump that she never landed in competition," Sherlock explained factually.

"I won't even ask how you know that," I pulled off my shoes and pulled on the skates. They felt nice and fit really well. Stepping onto the ice, I took two laps just to get a feel for the size of the rink, calculating how I'd go about the routine in my head.

"Get in position."

Skating to the center of the ice, I waited patiently for the music to begin. When the first notes rang through, I pushed myself off. All of my jumps and combinations were successful as per usual. But the second half was approaching and I could feel the fatigue. I was nearing the point. This jump wasn't just for me. It was for my escape, for Sherlock and John and Jim. Somehow that felt like more pressure than it did at the Olympics.

I pushed off the ice, launching into the jump. All the pressure faded that way. It was me and the air around me. I landed. I landed! There was a stumble, a millisecond where my heart stopped and I thought I wouldn't make it. But my feet stayed solid and I came to a stop.

"Merry Christmas, (Y/n). Sherlock, I'll see you again soon."

"Oh no," I heard Sherlock from the other side of the rink.

"What?"

"I think I'm feeling emotions."

"You've got to be kidding me."

Flushing, I returned to my shoes and replaced my skates with them. None of us said much to each other as we left the house. We were in the countryside, in the backyard of a large manor. Interesting place to choose, but I appreciated watching the snowfall over the field around us.

"Thank you for coming along. I'm sorry you got dragged into it," I apologized, clutching the skates tight in my hands.

"Just um, be more careful around your next holiday," John warned, unsure of what to say. Sherlock didn't say anything. He gave me a nod and went to hail a cab.

I pretended it didn't hurt.

~*~

My coach was furious me when the first thing I said to her after returning was that I wanted to add a quad to my Christmas program. She said I was crazy, that my "improteu day off" had messed with my head, but I knew I could do it.

On the ice, in the middle of a step-sequence I saw him again. The black trench coat next to a smaller partner in crime. I smiled, and spun into my next move. He came. With no warning or no prompting he came to see me.

I launched into the quad, Jim's Christmas present on my feet and the spirit in my heart.