I do not own Sherlock or anything in relation to it. I just get bored at my job and have lots of free time to scribble down little plots that run around my brain. :) Enjoy!
Prologue
The moment Lia Brooks slipped into her safehouse she knew something was off. First, she knew she didn't leave that newspaper on her table. Second, the reassuring blinking of her security system was mysteriously disabled.
As she slowly inched up to the mystery paper, she noticed that it was the London Examiner, dated yesterday. The front page headline read:
"Sherlock Holmes: fake suicide, real genius detective"
Considering the fact that she was currently residing in New York City, Lia wondered why the London Examiner was sitting on her table.
It was then that she heard a voice come from behind her: "Welcome home, Miss Brooks. Did you miss me?
She didn't have to turn to know who it was. Her whole body tensed; she knew that not just anyone could break into her state-of-the-art, personally designed security system. It was him. Terrified, but putting on a stoic mask, she turned and faced her intruder.
"Jim Moriarty. Aren't you supposed to be dead?" she said with an air of contempt.
"Now Lia, you should know better than to believe everything you hear."
"Why are you here, Jim? What do you want?" she replied, trying to hide her fear behind as much malice as she could muster.
"Tut, tut…Lia, I wouldn't use that tone with me. I'm the only reason you're not rotting in some jail cell in Turkey. Or was it Pakistan? Iran? Oh well, it doesn't matter. You're wanted in several countries, many of which have less than satisfactory penal systems. You're my favorite little thief, Lia. You're a triple threat: grifter, hacker, and thief! But don't forget that I'm the one who's keeping you out of prison. I know I'm barely back from the dead, but don't think for a minute I won't destroy you."
Lia stared wide-eyed during his little speech. She opened her mouth to counter, but was smart enough to know when she'd been beaten. Taking in a deep breath, Lia accepted her plight.
"What do you need, then?"
"I need you to deliver a message for me to a very special someone," the consulting criminal replied with a grin, "How soon can you leave for London?"
