Are You Watching Closely? - Part 4
Title: Are You Watching Closely?
Pairing: Angier/Borden, and slight Holmes/Watson
Word Count: Around 23,000
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Nothing major. Everything is very mild.
Notes: I want to say a big thank you and a well done to poseys_demise and wtfbrain for the art and the mix. I really appreciate both. Also a thank you to sound_of_bells for being my beta. I feel guilty for the amount of work I put her through.
Summary: Sherlock Holmes/The Prestige crossover. The rivalry between the two magicians has reached a dangerous level, so much so that Angier finally wants to end it once and for all. Knowing that Borden's weakness lies in his magic, he devises a plan to ruin him. His plan is to hire Holmes to discover and steal the secret to Borden's most beloved trick. But what happens if Angier is wrong? What if Borden's weakness isn't the magic but something or someone else entirely? Can Holmes figure it out before the rivalry destroys them both?
Art Link: Here by poseys_demise
Mix Link: Here by wtfbrain
Holmes tried his best to explain everything to Watson once they had made it back inside. They settled into their seats, Gladstone splayed out at Watson’s feet, and ran through all the events from the start to finish.
Borden had been built up to be a man of great evil, a man who deserved everything that Angier could throw at him. At the time, they had taken this on blind faith. It wasn’t until they had seen both sides of the story that they had begun to have doubts. The newspaper clippings multiplied every hour until finally there was an ocean of them in their sitting room. The lingering smell of old paper still hung around the room as they retold the story. It re-sparked all the thoughts Watson had had when reading through each and every one. Unpleasant images of the shooting incident appeared in Watson’s mind even though he would have preferred that they didn’t.
Then came the night they went to Borden’s show. Watson still thought of that night as the night he saw real magic. Even after he had been told the secret, the feelings of excitement and confusion clung to him when he remembered how he had felt sitting in that audience. When Borden instantly appeared on the other side of that stage, Watson’s heart leapt into his throat. He had never witnessed anything that had made him feel such an extreme reaction before. He had enjoyed it.
Afterwards, they had seen Angier and Cutter leaving the show. Now, Holmes had already explained to him several times why this was such an important fact, but he had heard it so many times that it had passed Watson’s understanding and had looped back round to puzzling him. He had had every piece of knowledge that Holmes had about the case - but he also had nothing while Holmes had everything. He just couldn’t seem to grasp why Angier would have gone to Borden’s show. Holmes’ theories just didn’t make sense to him. Borden’s immediate change when Angier’s name was mentioned after the show made sense if these two men hated each other and were rival magicians. Watson had just assumed Borden was worried about Angier stealing his trick. Holmes was formulating a completely different theory, however, and apparently had already solved the case.
When Angier had visited them the next morning, the secret to Borden’s trick was revealed. He used a twin. This was when Watson began to understand a little more. Angier’s begrudging respect for a man who had a total devotion to his art was unexpected considering that this man was his rival. Angier left them with the secret finally in his possession, but in Watson’s eyes he seemed even more confused than when he came in.
The next event let Watson share in Angier’s confusion. He could clearly remember the moment Holmes declared they had a new case just a few seconds after solving their old one. It was a strange mix between pride and amusement, but when Holmes told him it was a matter of love, his pride melted away and he was just left with pure amusement. Then began the strangest case Watson had ever been apart of.
A few days later, Holmes suggested a walk. That itself was unusual enough, but voluntarily inviting Gladstone as well was too much. How could he refuse? About halfway through, Holmes’ insanely intricately orchestrated plan came into affect and showed Watson that he really should have just refused the offer for a walk. As a result, they met Borden and his daughter. It was under circumstances that they would rather have avoided, but they met nonetheless.
However, it turned out they had met the wrong one, according to Holmes. In line with his new case, they had met the Borden who was in love with his family as opposed to the Borden who was in love with Angier. Even now, this thought made Watson smile. His talk with Holmes when they made it back to the sitting room was really bizarre now that he thought about it. He was completely certain that these two rival magicians were harboring secret feelings not just of lust but of love for one another. And he had managed to get all this from a few very limited meetings with them.
For Holmes, this was the moment when he came to the conclusion Angier and Borden were in love, but for Watson it was the moment he realized Holmes was a little fixated with magic. At every opportunity, he was pulling handkerchiefs out of sleeves and coins out of ears. At first, it was a welcome novelty - magic was a fascinating profession, after all - but now it was becoming annoying. Watson made a note to talk to Holmes about it after this case was done. Hopefully, he would be bored by then, and would find something new to occupy his mind.
Next was the day they disguised themselves and met Angier’s ingenieur, Cutter. Watson had never been to that part of the city before, and for good reason, too. Every building had that same abandoned and dilapidated appearance that made it seem as though it were about to collapse in on itself. Being inside one had made Watson extremely uncomfortable. Holmes’ apparent ease at blending in had only made him feel worse; his friend fit in all too well with these men who lied for a living.
Their pseudo-conversation with Cutter had unsettled Watson to no end, but when Holmes had mentioned Borden to the man, Watson was very close to just slowly backing out of the building. Fortunately for them both, he managed to curb that instinct and instead just flinched slightly at Cutter’s frown.
The events right after they had finally made their getaway were a bit of a blur for Watson. Thinking about it now, he might have overreacted, but at the time it had seemed like the only possibility. If Cutter had seen them standing in the alleyway, he might have sent them a confused stare but he probably wouldn’t have done much else, but that intense impulse to suddenly hide had been too much for Watson to ignore. He had just acted.
After that incident, which Watson was trying his hardest to pretend didn’t happen, and after Holmes had made another seemingly impossible assumption they met Borden in person once again. At least this time it wasn’t under the pretenses of them just having accidentally harmed his daughter, though after Holmes’ cringe-worthy efforts to manipulate Borden as he had already manipulated Cutter, Watson wasn’t sure which meeting he preferred. Both had their fair share of cons.
When they left Borden’s home, Watson had barely had time to process everything that had happened that day before Holmes told him they were expected to sit through another performance. Later, in the Baker Street sitting room, Holmes had told him why.
He was still adamant that Angier and Borden were secretly in love, and apparently that day’s efforts all led up to the reveal of this fact. Holmes had fanned out two tickets to Angier’s show for the next night and it all fell into place for Watson. All the not-so-subtle hints of the other magician’s name Holmes had dropped on Angier and Borden were to get them thinking. Angier had appeared at Borden’s show, and Holmes was hoping that Borden would return the favor. What Holmes expected to happen there, Watson didn’t know. Surely he didn’t think they would just fall into each other’s arms. They were self-appointed rivals; they had a certain image to uphold. As Watson got dressed and ready for Angier’s performance, he told himself that if it didn’t happen tonight it was never going to happen. He just prayed that Holmes would come to the same conclusion.
* * *
From their seats in the stalls, they had a clear view of Angier on the stage. Where you sat during Angier’s show was less important than it was during Borden’s, however, because Angier’s natural showmanship as he commandeered the stage made him hard to miss. The audience had no choice but to be drawn to him and his pretty assistant when they flourished and gestured out towards them.
Watson was fascinated. He was already under the spell that theatre magic seemed to put on people. He wanted to be tricked and puzzled: he had, after all, paid money for this. Well, Holmes had paid money for it, but Watson was pretty sure that Holmes had not actually looked towards the stage once so far. When Watson turned to see if Holmes was as enraptured with Angier’s show as he was, he was met with the back of Holmes’ head. His friend was twisting in his seat every so often to peer over the top of people’s heads and through the gaps between them. He was too busy scanned the audience for any signs that Borden was here to pay attention to the show. After a while, Watson chose to ignore the constant rustling coming from his left. If Holmes managed to spot Borden, he would stop.
About twenty minutes into the show, Holmes made a satisfied noise in the back of his throat and finally sat back and relaxed. His lack of movement told Watson that he had finally succeeded and when he followed Holmes’ smile he saw Borden sitting a few rows behind them and off to the far left of the room. He didn’t notice the two men examining him, though, because he was busy focusing intently on the stage, or, more appropriately, on the man on the stage. Borden wasn’t smiling but he wasn’t glaring daggers either. Both Holmes and Watson were unsure what to make of this.
To gauge his reactions throughout the show, they each glanced over in Borden’s direction every couple of minutes. His expression rarely changed from neutral indifference and betrayed nothing. It wasn’t long, however, until they noticed they weren’t the only people staring. During the moments when they were watching the stage, they saw Angier’s eyes flicker repeatedly in the same direction. To the audience it just looked as though he was surveying the crowd, but Watson knew he had spotted Borden. Now all they had to do was wait.
* * *
Once the show was over and they were standing out in the cold again, Watson shifted nervously from one leg to the other not only to keep the warmth circulating through his body but also out of nervousness. Every shivering breath he took appeared in front of his face as a small white cloud, and he watched the mist dissipate in the air while Holmes rambled on about something.
They were standing on the street opposite the theatre. Most of the crowd had already left in one large flock when the show had finished, but some were still trickling out every now and then. When they stepped outside, they withstood one violent shiver, tugged their coats tighter around themselves, ducked their heads and then walked as fast as they could away from he theater. It was the same every time somebody left. So far, though, Borden hadn’t appeared. Watson was beginning to think maybe they had missed him in the crowd, but when he mentioned this to Holmes, he just shook his head and returned to watching the theatre entrance.
Watson cupped his hands in front of his face and breathed into them. For a second, warm air ghosted over his fingers, bit then the chill came back worse than before. Holmes said something and looked over at Watson as if he were waiting for an answer, so Watson forced his frozen brain to remember the last few seconds, hoping he could work out what he was meant to say.
“So, you see, that’s how he did it. The audience seemed to think it was real magic, but really Mr. Angier is nothing more than a brilliant con man with an array of tricks up his sleeve,” Holmes said without once letting the cold affect his voice.
“Well, some people prefer to keep the mystery alive - me, for example” Watson replied. “Sometimes people just want to see something unexplainable. They want to be fooled. What they don’t want is for someone to explain every little trick to them while they are freezing to death,” he finished, a hint of annoyance in his voice.
“If I was irritating you, all you had to do was say so. I would have stopped.” Holmes managed to apologize while keeping an air of smug superiority that made Watson feel both better and worse at the same time.
“I’m sorry,” Watson sighed. “I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just so cold. Where is Borden? Are you sure we didn’t miss him?”
“I’m sure, Watson. He would have hung back, hoping to be the last person to leave.”
Two minutes later, sure enough, Borden exited the theatre. Like Holmes, the cold didn’t seem to be affecting him at all. He shoved his gloved hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders as he walked, but it wasn’t an effort to shield himself from the cold. It was just the walk on a lone man guarding himself because he was about to do something really stupid and hazardous. Watson, who had been skeptical anything was going to happen tonight, suddenly felt more alert as he watched Borden stroll away.
Every theatre had a side entrance. This made it easier for the performers to come and go when they pleased without having to cross through the theatre. Staff, performers and crew that helped bring in any equipment they might need used the side entrance for its quick accessibility. It also proved to be the perfect place to run into somebody you were hoping to meet.
Borden took a swift left once he passed the wide alleyway leading to the side entrance. Holmes and Watson followed his progress from their spot across the street and once they saw the hem of his coat disappear around the corner they dared to get a bit closer. They still waited hesitantly at the mouth of the alleyway, though, keeping a reasonable distance from Borden in case he suddenly changed his mind and retreated in the other direction. When they looked into the alley, Watson saw a something he had never thought he would.
Angier must have just left the theatre because he had paused at the top of the stairs. He was staring down towards the foot of the staircase where Borden was waiting for him. Angier would have no choice but to pass by him if he wanted to leave. Neither one of the men seemed willing to make the first attempt at a conversation, instead standing at a stalemate at opposite ends of the stairs.
Borden shuffled his feet on the glittering, frost-covered ground. These nervous, unsure movements seemed odd coming from him; vulnerability didn’t suit him. When he lifted his head once again to fix his eyes on Angier, his feet were planted firmly on the ground and it looked like he was ready to start talking.
“I saw your show. It was good,” Borden began. “You always did have more showmanship than me.”
Borden allowed himself a self-indulgent smile at this while he waited to see if Angier was going to say anything. He didn’t, but he also didn’t look as though he was about to run away or attempt to kill him, so Borden continued. It was too cold to get distracted and Watson couldn’t help but notice Angier wasn’t wearing a coat or any gloves, just the clothes he had worn for the performance. If he stayed out here any longer than he strictly needed to, he would freeze.
“But I didn’t come here just to compliment your show,” Borden continued. “I really came here to offer you a truce.” Even from the other side of the alleyway, Watson could make out the shocked look on Angier’s face. He was trying to hide it, but he wasn’t doing a very good job. Watson had to admit that he was also surprised. If he had had to guess which man would apologize first, he wouldn’t have guessed Borden.
“We can’t keep this up for the rest of our lives,” Borden told Angier. If we don’t kill each other we’ll just end up killing ourselves. I don’t want to live like this anymore; I can’t live like this. We’re both doing well now - there’s no point in ruining it with a petty rivalry.”
He had finally said what he wanted to say, and now that he was done, all he had to do was wait for Angier’s answer. Holmes and Watson were also waiting out the tense silence with him. Everyone was watching Angier’s face for any signs of emotion but, for once, he seemed to be maintaining an unreadable expression.
Without saying a word, Angier began to descend the stairs. His movements were slow and methodical; it seemed as though he was trying to draw out the moment for as long as he could while Borden waited below, uncharacteristically uncomfortable and unsure. Once they were on level ground, Angier paused in front of Borden and a small smile pulled at the edges of his mouth.
From where he stood, Watson couldn’t see Angier very clearly because Borden was blocking the way, and he couldn’t see Borden’s face because his back was to him. Their conversation, though understandable, was muffled, and Watson wanted to get closer. Besides, he and Holmes were still rather out in the open if one of the magicians suddenly decided to storm off. Watson huddled closer to the wall behind Holmes, clutching his coat tighter around himself to fend off the cold. Holmes, it seemed, still wasn’t affected by the temperature, but Watson found he was beginning to lose the feeling in his fingertips.
He was too busy clasping his hands together over and over again to take notice of Angier and Borden, but when Holmes elbowed him in the ribs, he looked up and saw the two men shaking hands as though they were simply acquaintances, maybe even friends. It was a strange sight.
Borden looked surprised when Angier finally held out a hand to accept the truce he had offered. He quickly got over it, though, and grasped Angier’s hands in his own. He could feel the ice-cold skin of Angier’s hand seeping into his even through the material of his glove. It made him reluctant to pull away, instead choosing to try and warm Angier up as much as he could. He was still holding it when Angier began talking.
“I must admit that I also went to your show recently. I heard you had finally mastered your famous trick and I was curious to see it.” If Angier had noticed, or if he even cared, that Borden had yet to let go of his hand, he didn’t show it. He seemed just as content to stay there as Borden did. “I was not disappointed. If I’m being honest, it was the best magic trick I have ever seen.”
Borden smiled. Angier smiled back.
“Thank you. I guess the world was finally ready for it.”
When Borden said this, Angier instantly sobered up. He squared his shoulders, stared Borden firmly in the eye, and tightened his hold on his hand.
“But were you ready?” Angier asked seriously.
A moment passed where they just waited out the silence. The air was tense and the charge that passed between them was almost visible. Eventually Borden pulled his hand away. At first, Angier’s hand moved with it, but he let go when Borden took a cautious step back.
“You know, don’t you?”
Angier knew his secret. Borden feared the worst. Why would Angier agree to a truce when he finally knew the secret to what he deemed was the greatest magic trick he had ever seen? Borden had done the one thing a magician should never do: he had revealed his secret, and not to just anyone. He had revealed it to his rival. He clenched his jaw and waited for the inevitable.
“Yes. I know,” Angier replied, voice grim. He opened his mouth to say more and then changed his mind. He hardened his resolve and tried again, tilting his head slightly to convey his complete bafflement at the situation and the amazement in what he was about to say. “How do you do it? How can you possibly survive with only half a life?”
Borden was taken back by the Angier’s genuine curiosity.
“I guess we’re used to it. We don’t really know any other way,” said Borden. He meant it. He thought about sacrifice again. He thought about his wife and his daughter. He loved them, in a way, but not the way his other half did. Did he want something different? Did he want something more?
“But don’t you want something more?” he asked. “Both of you can never be happy. Is it really worth it?” Angier took a step forward, closing the gap between them.
“He loves her,” Borden said, as though this explained everything. He ducked his head and furrowed his brow. Angier tilted his head closer.
“Her? Do you mean your wife?” Borden nodded. “But you don’t, do you?”
Borden lifted his head. He scanned Angier’s face, trying to work out why he was even bothering to ask him these questions, but all he could see was a desire to know the truth.
“No.”
What happened next happened so fast neither man was sure who initiated it. There was a pregnant pause before Angier surged forward. Borden grabbed his upper arms and pushed him back against the wall of the theatre at the same instant. Angier grunted when his back connected with the brick, and Watson was glad for the noise, as it drowned out his gasp of surprise. Noses bumped as lips sought out each other and desperate hands clutched at any remnants of clothing that they could. Borden took the lead, pushing his body flush against Angier’s, who shivered at the touch. The kiss was fierce and fast, each man finally able to unleash the pent-up frustrations of his life.
Borden pulled away first, but he didn’t back up; he just latched onto Angier’s jaw instead. Angier tipped his head back onto the wall behind him, giving Borden better access while he gulped in the cold air. Between each nip and kiss of Angier’s jaw Borden tried to talk.
“You’re… so… cold.”
Angier was about to disagree, because all of sudden he was feeling rather flushed, but Borden chose this moment to run his hand along the hem of his jacket. His fingers then brushed upwards and under the material. The rough feel of the gloves on his thin shirt made Angier twitch, but Borden didn’t stop. He rubbed the skin in circles, trying to create enough friction to warm him up. Angier’s brain raced to form any sort of coherent thought, which was very difficult when all he could focus on was the stubble on Borden’s cheek scratching his own.
“What…” Angier tried when Borden ducked down to suck on his neck. “What does this mean?” He finally managed to say.
In answer to his question, Borden pulled away long enough to give Angier a look that read both ‘Is this really the time for this?’ and ‘Isn’t it obvious?’ Angier pondered both of these rhetorical questions for a second before he gave in and grabbed the back of Borden’s head, pulling him in for another kiss. Borden went willingly and they were soon writhing against each other.
At the opposite end of the alleyway, the two men watching had finally seen enough. Holmes turned his back to Borden and Angier and signaled to Watson to silently follow him. Being as quiet as they could, they escaped the alleyway and only once there was a distance of two buildings between them and the magicians did Holmes deem it safe to speak.
“I have to admit, I’m surprised by how well that went. I was sure there would have been a bit of drawn blood before they got that far,” he said in an overly cheerful voice.
Normally, Watson would have shaken his head at Holmes’ eager expression, but considering the situation, he could do nothing but agree and smile with him. The cold no longer seemed to be affecting him, and his brain was feeling considerably less sluggish. Whether he classed it as fortunate or not, he was now able to process what he had just witnessed. A part of him still couldn’t believe it. As usual, Holmes had been right all along.
“I just can’t believe you were right. We didn’t even meddle that much with their lives and it still led to this. Maybe it was just inevitable.”
Holmes looked over at Watson, his face drawn in concentration.
“Inevitable. I hope so.”
* * *
It wasn’t until the next morning that Watson allowed himself to really think about the events of the previous night. After they had made it back to Baker Street, he had been exhausted and had barely made it to bed, let alone sat down with Holmes and talked everything through.
In the morning, once he was rested, he sat down at the table and read the morning paper with his breakfast. He scanned through it until he reached a review of Angier’s show. Just like the review of Borden’s show, it was very positive. Watson chuckled to himself, wondering what the author would have written if he had known what he and Holmes knew.
A door opened somewhere behind him and Holmes came into the room. Watson carefully folded up the paper and held it out to his friend, who took it and sat down in an empty chair at the table.
“What do you think they are going to do now?” Watson asked as he relaxed back in his chair, crossing one of his legs over the other.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, do you think Borden will continue with his life the way he was before, merging two lives into one, or will he finally attempt to be happy?”
Holmes thought for a moment and then, while folding up the paper a second time, mimicked Watson’s posture and spoke.
“It’s up to them. I think we have done all we can for them.”
As he said this there was a loud knock on the door to the sitting room. Watson started at the sudden noise and turned a confused eye to the door. When he glanced back at Holmes he saw he was sporting a very similar look. Neither of them had heard the front door open or the footsteps climbing the stairs. The person knocked again, this time more insistently and Watson remembered that they were supposed to say something.
“Come in,” he called, shrugging at Holmes.
The door gingerly swung open, which struck Watson as strange, considering how tenaciously the person had been knocking. Borden stood nervously on the threshold. His eyes zeroed in on Holmes immediately, and his unsure expression became more determined. His jaw tightened along with his resolve as he stepped into the room. He briefly made eye contact with Watson, who was forced to look away when an unwelcome blush began to color his face. As soon as their eyes had met, his mind had been bombarded with images of the night before, and he found he couldn’t keep looking at the man in front of him.
“Mr. Borden, to what do we owe the pleasure?” Holmes ventured as he stood to shake Borden’s hand in welcome. Watson envied his ability to act so nonchalantly while he was stuck staring at the floor. Borden ignored the hand so Holmes dropped it back to his side, all the while keeping the pleasant look on his face.
“You can drop the act. Angier told me everything.”
If possible, Holmes’ smile became wider and admittedly more realistic when Borden made it known why he was here. Watson, on the other hand, felt that now was the time to put up his guard. Borden now knew that Holmes had worked out the secret to his life and that he had voluntarily given up the information to his rival. Would Borden be able to act as casually as Holmes now that he knew this?
“So you figured out my trick?” He began, sounding neither upset nor pleased about the outcome. “I’m impressed. I knew Angier was never going to figure it out, the workings behind magic never were his strong suit.”
“So you are not upset. I have to admit I was curious as to why you chose to visit us. My first thought was that it was not going to be a pleasant visit based on what we know of you,” Holmes joked, gauging how Borden was reacting so far.
Borden seemed genuinely surprised that they had thought him liable to fly into a rage over something like this, given that he barely knew them. Suddenly his trick seemed like an unimportant part of his life. He had come here for a completely different reason. He had come because he wanted the truth.
Watson watched as Borden massaged his forehead with his perpetually gloved hand. He appeared agitated or even nervous, and raised his head back up with a sigh.
“It was you two, wasn’t it? On my doorstep?”
Now it was Watson’s turn to look sheepish and when Borden noticed his reluctance to meet his eye, he nodded, knowing he had hit the nail on the head.
“First, you attack my daughter - yes, he told me about that - and then you show up on my doorstep, talking rubbish.” He paused. “You kept bringing up Angier.”
His hand returned to his forehead, as though he were trying to hide his face, but when he spoke his voice was loud and clear.
“My trick isn’t the only secret you know about me, is it?”
“No.”
Borden and Holmes’ staring match seemed to go on for minutes. Watson kept glancing between them to see which one would look away first. It was Borden.
“You know.” It wasn’t a question, it was just acceptance. “You know about me and Angier.”
Borden appeared to be lost in thought. He stared, unwavering, at the floor, but his legs didn’t quite know how to stay still. Though he never moved from his spot, Watson could see that he wanted to.
“You did all this to bring us together. Why?”
Holmes finally dropped his satisfied smile and approached Borden. He could see the skittish look in Borden’s eye and thought that if he didn’t act appropriately now, Borden might leave before everything that needed to be said was said.
“If we hadn’t, one of you would have ended up killing the other.” Borden opened his mouth to say something, brow furrowing in defiance. Anticipating what Borden was going to say, Holmes held up his hand. “If you are worried that we will share your secret, fear not - you have our word that we will keep it to ourselves.”
Borden still looked dubious but he nodded and visibly relaxed. Watson watched the interaction from his place at the table and once Borden seemed slightly at ease he stood up and hovered nearby.
“What do you plan to do, if you don’t mind me asking?” Watson questioned.
For the first time since he had arrived, Borden looked Watson square in the eye and Watson didn’t look away.
“A magician’s life is about sacrifice. I’ll do what I have to.”
Watson didn’t dare delve deeper. Sometimes, he thought, a man is entitled to his secrets.
The next couple of moments passed in silence. The three men occupying the room didn’t know what to do to fill it. Eventually, Borden cleared his throat to break the awkward hush. He owed everything to these two men, and he couldn’t do anything in return. Whatever he felt for Angier had been buried deep down for the years of their rivalry, and if it hadn’t been for these men, it would have stayed buried. His double life was a sacrifice he could manage, but a chance at happiness was something he couldn’t give up.
He shook each of their hands in turn, regretting that he had avoided doing so earlier. Judging by their pleased smiles, he needn’t worry that they would turn around and stab him in the back.
“Thank you,” he said before he left, shutting the door softly behind him.
Watson, whose leg was beginning to ache, limped over to his armchair, . He dropped into it and looked expectantly at Holmes, who had moved over to the window. He was leaning so close to it that his breath fogged up the glass, but he didn’t seem to notice as he gazed outside.
“Well, I believe congratulations are in order,” Watson declared with a theatrical wave of his hand. “I didn’t think it would, but what you predicted came true. Angier and Borden did, indeed, have feelings for each other.” He shook his head in amusement.
Holmes turned away from window and focused on Watson. He stalked forward until he stood towering over Watson’s and reached his hand out. Confused, Watson waited in the armchair as Holmes’ fingers brushed his ear. When Holmes pulled his hand away, Watson saw a glint of metal between his fingers and when Holmes stepped back there was a small copper coin in his hand. Holmes smiled.
“You continue to amaze me, Holmes,” said Watson, smiling back.
Pairing: Angier/Borden, and slight Holmes/Watson
Word Count: Around 23,000
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Nothing major. Everything is very mild.
Notes: I want to say a big thank you and a well done to poseys_demise and wtfbrain for the art and the mix. I really appreciate both. Also a thank you to sound_of_bells for being my beta. I feel guilty for the amount of work I put her through.
Summary: Sherlock Holmes/The Prestige crossover. The rivalry between the two magicians has reached a dangerous level, so much so that Angier finally wants to end it once and for all. Knowing that Borden's weakness lies in his magic, he devises a plan to ruin him. His plan is to hire Holmes to discover and steal the secret to Borden's most beloved trick. But what happens if Angier is wrong? What if Borden's weakness isn't the magic but something or someone else entirely? Can Holmes figure it out before the rivalry destroys them both?
Art Link: Here by poseys_demise
Mix Link: Here by wtfbrain
Holmes tried his best to explain everything to Watson once they had made it back inside. They settled into their seats, Gladstone splayed out at Watson’s feet, and ran through all the events from the start to finish.
Borden had been built up to be a man of great evil, a man who deserved everything that Angier could throw at him. At the time, they had taken this on blind faith. It wasn’t until they had seen both sides of the story that they had begun to have doubts. The newspaper clippings multiplied every hour until finally there was an ocean of them in their sitting room. The lingering smell of old paper still hung around the room as they retold the story. It re-sparked all the thoughts Watson had had when reading through each and every one. Unpleasant images of the shooting incident appeared in Watson’s mind even though he would have preferred that they didn’t.
Then came the night they went to Borden’s show. Watson still thought of that night as the night he saw real magic. Even after he had been told the secret, the feelings of excitement and confusion clung to him when he remembered how he had felt sitting in that audience. When Borden instantly appeared on the other side of that stage, Watson’s heart leapt into his throat. He had never witnessed anything that had made him feel such an extreme reaction before. He had enjoyed it.
Afterwards, they had seen Angier and Cutter leaving the show. Now, Holmes had already explained to him several times why this was such an important fact, but he had heard it so many times that it had passed Watson’s understanding and had looped back round to puzzling him. He had had every piece of knowledge that Holmes had about the case - but he also had nothing while Holmes had everything. He just couldn’t seem to grasp why Angier would have gone to Borden’s show. Holmes’ theories just didn’t make sense to him. Borden’s immediate change when Angier’s name was mentioned after the show made sense if these two men hated each other and were rival magicians. Watson had just assumed Borden was worried about Angier stealing his trick. Holmes was formulating a completely different theory, however, and apparently had already solved the case.
When Angier had visited them the next morning, the secret to Borden’s trick was revealed. He used a twin. This was when Watson began to understand a little more. Angier’s begrudging respect for a man who had a total devotion to his art was unexpected considering that this man was his rival. Angier left them with the secret finally in his possession, but in Watson’s eyes he seemed even more confused than when he came in.
The next event let Watson share in Angier’s confusion. He could clearly remember the moment Holmes declared they had a new case just a few seconds after solving their old one. It was a strange mix between pride and amusement, but when Holmes told him it was a matter of love, his pride melted away and he was just left with pure amusement. Then began the strangest case Watson had ever been apart of.
A few days later, Holmes suggested a walk. That itself was unusual enough, but voluntarily inviting Gladstone as well was too much. How could he refuse? About halfway through, Holmes’ insanely intricately orchestrated plan came into affect and showed Watson that he really should have just refused the offer for a walk. As a result, they met Borden and his daughter. It was under circumstances that they would rather have avoided, but they met nonetheless.
However, it turned out they had met the wrong one, according to Holmes. In line with his new case, they had met the Borden who was in love with his family as opposed to the Borden who was in love with Angier. Even now, this thought made Watson smile. His talk with Holmes when they made it back to the sitting room was really bizarre now that he thought about it. He was completely certain that these two rival magicians were harboring secret feelings not just of lust but of love for one another. And he had managed to get all this from a few very limited meetings with them.
For Holmes, this was the moment when he came to the conclusion Angier and Borden were in love, but for Watson it was the moment he realized Holmes was a little fixated with magic. At every opportunity, he was pulling handkerchiefs out of sleeves and coins out of ears. At first, it was a welcome novelty - magic was a fascinating profession, after all - but now it was becoming annoying. Watson made a note to talk to Holmes about it after this case was done. Hopefully, he would be bored by then, and would find something new to occupy his mind.
Next was the day they disguised themselves and met Angier’s ingenieur, Cutter. Watson had never been to that part of the city before, and for good reason, too. Every building had that same abandoned and dilapidated appearance that made it seem as though it were about to collapse in on itself. Being inside one had made Watson extremely uncomfortable. Holmes’ apparent ease at blending in had only made him feel worse; his friend fit in all too well with these men who lied for a living.
Their pseudo-conversation with Cutter had unsettled Watson to no end, but when Holmes had mentioned Borden to the man, Watson was very close to just slowly backing out of the building. Fortunately for them both, he managed to curb that instinct and instead just flinched slightly at Cutter’s frown.
The events right after they had finally made their getaway were a bit of a blur for Watson. Thinking about it now, he might have overreacted, but at the time it had seemed like the only possibility. If Cutter had seen them standing in the alleyway, he might have sent them a confused stare but he probably wouldn’t have done much else, but that intense impulse to suddenly hide had been too much for Watson to ignore. He had just acted.
After that incident, which Watson was trying his hardest to pretend didn’t happen, and after Holmes had made another seemingly impossible assumption they met Borden in person once again. At least this time it wasn’t under the pretenses of them just having accidentally harmed his daughter, though after Holmes’ cringe-worthy efforts to manipulate Borden as he had already manipulated Cutter, Watson wasn’t sure which meeting he preferred. Both had their fair share of cons.
When they left Borden’s home, Watson had barely had time to process everything that had happened that day before Holmes told him they were expected to sit through another performance. Later, in the Baker Street sitting room, Holmes had told him why.
He was still adamant that Angier and Borden were secretly in love, and apparently that day’s efforts all led up to the reveal of this fact. Holmes had fanned out two tickets to Angier’s show for the next night and it all fell into place for Watson. All the not-so-subtle hints of the other magician’s name Holmes had dropped on Angier and Borden were to get them thinking. Angier had appeared at Borden’s show, and Holmes was hoping that Borden would return the favor. What Holmes expected to happen there, Watson didn’t know. Surely he didn’t think they would just fall into each other’s arms. They were self-appointed rivals; they had a certain image to uphold. As Watson got dressed and ready for Angier’s performance, he told himself that if it didn’t happen tonight it was never going to happen. He just prayed that Holmes would come to the same conclusion.
* * *
From their seats in the stalls, they had a clear view of Angier on the stage. Where you sat during Angier’s show was less important than it was during Borden’s, however, because Angier’s natural showmanship as he commandeered the stage made him hard to miss. The audience had no choice but to be drawn to him and his pretty assistant when they flourished and gestured out towards them.
Watson was fascinated. He was already under the spell that theatre magic seemed to put on people. He wanted to be tricked and puzzled: he had, after all, paid money for this. Well, Holmes had paid money for it, but Watson was pretty sure that Holmes had not actually looked towards the stage once so far. When Watson turned to see if Holmes was as enraptured with Angier’s show as he was, he was met with the back of Holmes’ head. His friend was twisting in his seat every so often to peer over the top of people’s heads and through the gaps between them. He was too busy scanned the audience for any signs that Borden was here to pay attention to the show. After a while, Watson chose to ignore the constant rustling coming from his left. If Holmes managed to spot Borden, he would stop.
About twenty minutes into the show, Holmes made a satisfied noise in the back of his throat and finally sat back and relaxed. His lack of movement told Watson that he had finally succeeded and when he followed Holmes’ smile he saw Borden sitting a few rows behind them and off to the far left of the room. He didn’t notice the two men examining him, though, because he was busy focusing intently on the stage, or, more appropriately, on the man on the stage. Borden wasn’t smiling but he wasn’t glaring daggers either. Both Holmes and Watson were unsure what to make of this.
To gauge his reactions throughout the show, they each glanced over in Borden’s direction every couple of minutes. His expression rarely changed from neutral indifference and betrayed nothing. It wasn’t long, however, until they noticed they weren’t the only people staring. During the moments when they were watching the stage, they saw Angier’s eyes flicker repeatedly in the same direction. To the audience it just looked as though he was surveying the crowd, but Watson knew he had spotted Borden. Now all they had to do was wait.
* * *
Once the show was over and they were standing out in the cold again, Watson shifted nervously from one leg to the other not only to keep the warmth circulating through his body but also out of nervousness. Every shivering breath he took appeared in front of his face as a small white cloud, and he watched the mist dissipate in the air while Holmes rambled on about something.
They were standing on the street opposite the theatre. Most of the crowd had already left in one large flock when the show had finished, but some were still trickling out every now and then. When they stepped outside, they withstood one violent shiver, tugged their coats tighter around themselves, ducked their heads and then walked as fast as they could away from he theater. It was the same every time somebody left. So far, though, Borden hadn’t appeared. Watson was beginning to think maybe they had missed him in the crowd, but when he mentioned this to Holmes, he just shook his head and returned to watching the theatre entrance.
Watson cupped his hands in front of his face and breathed into them. For a second, warm air ghosted over his fingers, bit then the chill came back worse than before. Holmes said something and looked over at Watson as if he were waiting for an answer, so Watson forced his frozen brain to remember the last few seconds, hoping he could work out what he was meant to say.
“So, you see, that’s how he did it. The audience seemed to think it was real magic, but really Mr. Angier is nothing more than a brilliant con man with an array of tricks up his sleeve,” Holmes said without once letting the cold affect his voice.
“Well, some people prefer to keep the mystery alive - me, for example” Watson replied. “Sometimes people just want to see something unexplainable. They want to be fooled. What they don’t want is for someone to explain every little trick to them while they are freezing to death,” he finished, a hint of annoyance in his voice.
“If I was irritating you, all you had to do was say so. I would have stopped.” Holmes managed to apologize while keeping an air of smug superiority that made Watson feel both better and worse at the same time.
“I’m sorry,” Watson sighed. “I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just so cold. Where is Borden? Are you sure we didn’t miss him?”
“I’m sure, Watson. He would have hung back, hoping to be the last person to leave.”
Two minutes later, sure enough, Borden exited the theatre. Like Holmes, the cold didn’t seem to be affecting him at all. He shoved his gloved hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders as he walked, but it wasn’t an effort to shield himself from the cold. It was just the walk on a lone man guarding himself because he was about to do something really stupid and hazardous. Watson, who had been skeptical anything was going to happen tonight, suddenly felt more alert as he watched Borden stroll away.
Every theatre had a side entrance. This made it easier for the performers to come and go when they pleased without having to cross through the theatre. Staff, performers and crew that helped bring in any equipment they might need used the side entrance for its quick accessibility. It also proved to be the perfect place to run into somebody you were hoping to meet.
Borden took a swift left once he passed the wide alleyway leading to the side entrance. Holmes and Watson followed his progress from their spot across the street and once they saw the hem of his coat disappear around the corner they dared to get a bit closer. They still waited hesitantly at the mouth of the alleyway, though, keeping a reasonable distance from Borden in case he suddenly changed his mind and retreated in the other direction. When they looked into the alley, Watson saw a something he had never thought he would.
Angier must have just left the theatre because he had paused at the top of the stairs. He was staring down towards the foot of the staircase where Borden was waiting for him. Angier would have no choice but to pass by him if he wanted to leave. Neither one of the men seemed willing to make the first attempt at a conversation, instead standing at a stalemate at opposite ends of the stairs.
Borden shuffled his feet on the glittering, frost-covered ground. These nervous, unsure movements seemed odd coming from him; vulnerability didn’t suit him. When he lifted his head once again to fix his eyes on Angier, his feet were planted firmly on the ground and it looked like he was ready to start talking.
“I saw your show. It was good,” Borden began. “You always did have more showmanship than me.”
Borden allowed himself a self-indulgent smile at this while he waited to see if Angier was going to say anything. He didn’t, but he also didn’t look as though he was about to run away or attempt to kill him, so Borden continued. It was too cold to get distracted and Watson couldn’t help but notice Angier wasn’t wearing a coat or any gloves, just the clothes he had worn for the performance. If he stayed out here any longer than he strictly needed to, he would freeze.
“But I didn’t come here just to compliment your show,” Borden continued. “I really came here to offer you a truce.” Even from the other side of the alleyway, Watson could make out the shocked look on Angier’s face. He was trying to hide it, but he wasn’t doing a very good job. Watson had to admit that he was also surprised. If he had had to guess which man would apologize first, he wouldn’t have guessed Borden.
“We can’t keep this up for the rest of our lives,” Borden told Angier. If we don’t kill each other we’ll just end up killing ourselves. I don’t want to live like this anymore; I can’t live like this. We’re both doing well now - there’s no point in ruining it with a petty rivalry.”
He had finally said what he wanted to say, and now that he was done, all he had to do was wait for Angier’s answer. Holmes and Watson were also waiting out the tense silence with him. Everyone was watching Angier’s face for any signs of emotion but, for once, he seemed to be maintaining an unreadable expression.
Without saying a word, Angier began to descend the stairs. His movements were slow and methodical; it seemed as though he was trying to draw out the moment for as long as he could while Borden waited below, uncharacteristically uncomfortable and unsure. Once they were on level ground, Angier paused in front of Borden and a small smile pulled at the edges of his mouth.
From where he stood, Watson couldn’t see Angier very clearly because Borden was blocking the way, and he couldn’t see Borden’s face because his back was to him. Their conversation, though understandable, was muffled, and Watson wanted to get closer. Besides, he and Holmes were still rather out in the open if one of the magicians suddenly decided to storm off. Watson huddled closer to the wall behind Holmes, clutching his coat tighter around himself to fend off the cold. Holmes, it seemed, still wasn’t affected by the temperature, but Watson found he was beginning to lose the feeling in his fingertips.
He was too busy clasping his hands together over and over again to take notice of Angier and Borden, but when Holmes elbowed him in the ribs, he looked up and saw the two men shaking hands as though they were simply acquaintances, maybe even friends. It was a strange sight.
Borden looked surprised when Angier finally held out a hand to accept the truce he had offered. He quickly got over it, though, and grasped Angier’s hands in his own. He could feel the ice-cold skin of Angier’s hand seeping into his even through the material of his glove. It made him reluctant to pull away, instead choosing to try and warm Angier up as much as he could. He was still holding it when Angier began talking.
“I must admit that I also went to your show recently. I heard you had finally mastered your famous trick and I was curious to see it.” If Angier had noticed, or if he even cared, that Borden had yet to let go of his hand, he didn’t show it. He seemed just as content to stay there as Borden did. “I was not disappointed. If I’m being honest, it was the best magic trick I have ever seen.”
Borden smiled. Angier smiled back.
“Thank you. I guess the world was finally ready for it.”
When Borden said this, Angier instantly sobered up. He squared his shoulders, stared Borden firmly in the eye, and tightened his hold on his hand.
“But were you ready?” Angier asked seriously.
A moment passed where they just waited out the silence. The air was tense and the charge that passed between them was almost visible. Eventually Borden pulled his hand away. At first, Angier’s hand moved with it, but he let go when Borden took a cautious step back.
“You know, don’t you?”
Angier knew his secret. Borden feared the worst. Why would Angier agree to a truce when he finally knew the secret to what he deemed was the greatest magic trick he had ever seen? Borden had done the one thing a magician should never do: he had revealed his secret, and not to just anyone. He had revealed it to his rival. He clenched his jaw and waited for the inevitable.
“Yes. I know,” Angier replied, voice grim. He opened his mouth to say more and then changed his mind. He hardened his resolve and tried again, tilting his head slightly to convey his complete bafflement at the situation and the amazement in what he was about to say. “How do you do it? How can you possibly survive with only half a life?”
Borden was taken back by the Angier’s genuine curiosity.
“I guess we’re used to it. We don’t really know any other way,” said Borden. He meant it. He thought about sacrifice again. He thought about his wife and his daughter. He loved them, in a way, but not the way his other half did. Did he want something different? Did he want something more?
“But don’t you want something more?” he asked. “Both of you can never be happy. Is it really worth it?” Angier took a step forward, closing the gap between them.
“He loves her,” Borden said, as though this explained everything. He ducked his head and furrowed his brow. Angier tilted his head closer.
“Her? Do you mean your wife?” Borden nodded. “But you don’t, do you?”
Borden lifted his head. He scanned Angier’s face, trying to work out why he was even bothering to ask him these questions, but all he could see was a desire to know the truth.
“No.”
What happened next happened so fast neither man was sure who initiated it. There was a pregnant pause before Angier surged forward. Borden grabbed his upper arms and pushed him back against the wall of the theatre at the same instant. Angier grunted when his back connected with the brick, and Watson was glad for the noise, as it drowned out his gasp of surprise. Noses bumped as lips sought out each other and desperate hands clutched at any remnants of clothing that they could. Borden took the lead, pushing his body flush against Angier’s, who shivered at the touch. The kiss was fierce and fast, each man finally able to unleash the pent-up frustrations of his life.
Borden pulled away first, but he didn’t back up; he just latched onto Angier’s jaw instead. Angier tipped his head back onto the wall behind him, giving Borden better access while he gulped in the cold air. Between each nip and kiss of Angier’s jaw Borden tried to talk.
“You’re… so… cold.”
Angier was about to disagree, because all of sudden he was feeling rather flushed, but Borden chose this moment to run his hand along the hem of his jacket. His fingers then brushed upwards and under the material. The rough feel of the gloves on his thin shirt made Angier twitch, but Borden didn’t stop. He rubbed the skin in circles, trying to create enough friction to warm him up. Angier’s brain raced to form any sort of coherent thought, which was very difficult when all he could focus on was the stubble on Borden’s cheek scratching his own.
“What…” Angier tried when Borden ducked down to suck on his neck. “What does this mean?” He finally managed to say.
In answer to his question, Borden pulled away long enough to give Angier a look that read both ‘Is this really the time for this?’ and ‘Isn’t it obvious?’ Angier pondered both of these rhetorical questions for a second before he gave in and grabbed the back of Borden’s head, pulling him in for another kiss. Borden went willingly and they were soon writhing against each other.
At the opposite end of the alleyway, the two men watching had finally seen enough. Holmes turned his back to Borden and Angier and signaled to Watson to silently follow him. Being as quiet as they could, they escaped the alleyway and only once there was a distance of two buildings between them and the magicians did Holmes deem it safe to speak.
“I have to admit, I’m surprised by how well that went. I was sure there would have been a bit of drawn blood before they got that far,” he said in an overly cheerful voice.
Normally, Watson would have shaken his head at Holmes’ eager expression, but considering the situation, he could do nothing but agree and smile with him. The cold no longer seemed to be affecting him, and his brain was feeling considerably less sluggish. Whether he classed it as fortunate or not, he was now able to process what he had just witnessed. A part of him still couldn’t believe it. As usual, Holmes had been right all along.
“I just can’t believe you were right. We didn’t even meddle that much with their lives and it still led to this. Maybe it was just inevitable.”
Holmes looked over at Watson, his face drawn in concentration.
“Inevitable. I hope so.”
* * *
It wasn’t until the next morning that Watson allowed himself to really think about the events of the previous night. After they had made it back to Baker Street, he had been exhausted and had barely made it to bed, let alone sat down with Holmes and talked everything through.
In the morning, once he was rested, he sat down at the table and read the morning paper with his breakfast. He scanned through it until he reached a review of Angier’s show. Just like the review of Borden’s show, it was very positive. Watson chuckled to himself, wondering what the author would have written if he had known what he and Holmes knew.
A door opened somewhere behind him and Holmes came into the room. Watson carefully folded up the paper and held it out to his friend, who took it and sat down in an empty chair at the table.
“What do you think they are going to do now?” Watson asked as he relaxed back in his chair, crossing one of his legs over the other.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, do you think Borden will continue with his life the way he was before, merging two lives into one, or will he finally attempt to be happy?”
Holmes thought for a moment and then, while folding up the paper a second time, mimicked Watson’s posture and spoke.
“It’s up to them. I think we have done all we can for them.”
As he said this there was a loud knock on the door to the sitting room. Watson started at the sudden noise and turned a confused eye to the door. When he glanced back at Holmes he saw he was sporting a very similar look. Neither of them had heard the front door open or the footsteps climbing the stairs. The person knocked again, this time more insistently and Watson remembered that they were supposed to say something.
“Come in,” he called, shrugging at Holmes.
The door gingerly swung open, which struck Watson as strange, considering how tenaciously the person had been knocking. Borden stood nervously on the threshold. His eyes zeroed in on Holmes immediately, and his unsure expression became more determined. His jaw tightened along with his resolve as he stepped into the room. He briefly made eye contact with Watson, who was forced to look away when an unwelcome blush began to color his face. As soon as their eyes had met, his mind had been bombarded with images of the night before, and he found he couldn’t keep looking at the man in front of him.
“Mr. Borden, to what do we owe the pleasure?” Holmes ventured as he stood to shake Borden’s hand in welcome. Watson envied his ability to act so nonchalantly while he was stuck staring at the floor. Borden ignored the hand so Holmes dropped it back to his side, all the while keeping the pleasant look on his face.
“You can drop the act. Angier told me everything.”
If possible, Holmes’ smile became wider and admittedly more realistic when Borden made it known why he was here. Watson, on the other hand, felt that now was the time to put up his guard. Borden now knew that Holmes had worked out the secret to his life and that he had voluntarily given up the information to his rival. Would Borden be able to act as casually as Holmes now that he knew this?
“So you figured out my trick?” He began, sounding neither upset nor pleased about the outcome. “I’m impressed. I knew Angier was never going to figure it out, the workings behind magic never were his strong suit.”
“So you are not upset. I have to admit I was curious as to why you chose to visit us. My first thought was that it was not going to be a pleasant visit based on what we know of you,” Holmes joked, gauging how Borden was reacting so far.
Borden seemed genuinely surprised that they had thought him liable to fly into a rage over something like this, given that he barely knew them. Suddenly his trick seemed like an unimportant part of his life. He had come here for a completely different reason. He had come because he wanted the truth.
Watson watched as Borden massaged his forehead with his perpetually gloved hand. He appeared agitated or even nervous, and raised his head back up with a sigh.
“It was you two, wasn’t it? On my doorstep?”
Now it was Watson’s turn to look sheepish and when Borden noticed his reluctance to meet his eye, he nodded, knowing he had hit the nail on the head.
“First, you attack my daughter - yes, he told me about that - and then you show up on my doorstep, talking rubbish.” He paused. “You kept bringing up Angier.”
His hand returned to his forehead, as though he were trying to hide his face, but when he spoke his voice was loud and clear.
“My trick isn’t the only secret you know about me, is it?”
“No.”
Borden and Holmes’ staring match seemed to go on for minutes. Watson kept glancing between them to see which one would look away first. It was Borden.
“You know.” It wasn’t a question, it was just acceptance. “You know about me and Angier.”
Borden appeared to be lost in thought. He stared, unwavering, at the floor, but his legs didn’t quite know how to stay still. Though he never moved from his spot, Watson could see that he wanted to.
“You did all this to bring us together. Why?”
Holmes finally dropped his satisfied smile and approached Borden. He could see the skittish look in Borden’s eye and thought that if he didn’t act appropriately now, Borden might leave before everything that needed to be said was said.
“If we hadn’t, one of you would have ended up killing the other.” Borden opened his mouth to say something, brow furrowing in defiance. Anticipating what Borden was going to say, Holmes held up his hand. “If you are worried that we will share your secret, fear not - you have our word that we will keep it to ourselves.”
Borden still looked dubious but he nodded and visibly relaxed. Watson watched the interaction from his place at the table and once Borden seemed slightly at ease he stood up and hovered nearby.
“What do you plan to do, if you don’t mind me asking?” Watson questioned.
For the first time since he had arrived, Borden looked Watson square in the eye and Watson didn’t look away.
“A magician’s life is about sacrifice. I’ll do what I have to.”
Watson didn’t dare delve deeper. Sometimes, he thought, a man is entitled to his secrets.
The next couple of moments passed in silence. The three men occupying the room didn’t know what to do to fill it. Eventually, Borden cleared his throat to break the awkward hush. He owed everything to these two men, and he couldn’t do anything in return. Whatever he felt for Angier had been buried deep down for the years of their rivalry, and if it hadn’t been for these men, it would have stayed buried. His double life was a sacrifice he could manage, but a chance at happiness was something he couldn’t give up.
He shook each of their hands in turn, regretting that he had avoided doing so earlier. Judging by their pleased smiles, he needn’t worry that they would turn around and stab him in the back.
“Thank you,” he said before he left, shutting the door softly behind him.
Watson, whose leg was beginning to ache, limped over to his armchair, . He dropped into it and looked expectantly at Holmes, who had moved over to the window. He was leaning so close to it that his breath fogged up the glass, but he didn’t seem to notice as he gazed outside.
“Well, I believe congratulations are in order,” Watson declared with a theatrical wave of his hand. “I didn’t think it would, but what you predicted came true. Angier and Borden did, indeed, have feelings for each other.” He shook his head in amusement.
Holmes turned away from window and focused on Watson. He stalked forward until he stood towering over Watson’s and reached his hand out. Confused, Watson waited in the armchair as Holmes’ fingers brushed his ear. When Holmes pulled his hand away, Watson saw a glint of metal between his fingers and when Holmes stepped back there was a small copper coin in his hand. Holmes smiled.
“You continue to amaze me, Holmes,” said Watson, smiling back.