Five Minutes

It was a strange request, to play the violin for his imprisoned sister. Even stranger was the fact that she was the one who had produced the instrument from inside her glass enclosure. If it was Silence of the Lambs, as the guards had said, there was no way Hannibal Lecter would have been allowed a violin, would he? In such a solitary confinement as this, it was only the clothes on your back. Some weren't even allowed bedsheets. In the film, they had told the young agent "only soft paper" was to be passed between them.

Analogy critiquing aside, it was a beautiful instrument, and he was dying to see how it played, so he naturally obliged.

But she didn't like his first choice in a musical piece; said he didn't "understand" it. Likely, she was just trying to get on his nerves. Mycroft enjoyed that activity, too; it must have been a sibling thing. Or maybe just a Holmes thing, he thought smugly.

"Play you," she instructed.

"Me?"

"You."

Hesitantly, he raised the instrument and began to play. This time, it was a different song, a sadder song. The song he had written for Irene Adler. He had barely gotten two notes out when Eurus perked up, suddenly interested.

"Oh! Have you had sex?"

"Why do you ask?" he responded without giving any indication as to the answer of her question.

"The music," she said. "I've had sex."

He looked at her quizzically while still playing. "How?"

"One of the nurses got careless. I liked it. Messy, though. People are so breakable."

"I take it he didn't consent," he assumed.

"He?" Eurus said, but her mind was far away, reliving the moment in an instant.

She had been kneeling on the floor when he entered. The guards had just brought her back from the bathroom, and had only moments before taken her handcuffs off. Of course, she had had ample time to stand back up, but why would she? It wasn't like there was anything better to do, and perhaps if she stayed like that long enough, it would begin to bother some of the lovely workers. She had already stayed there long enough – still enough – for the lights to stop sensing her presence and shut off.

But then the door to the lift slid open. She lifted her head to see a man walking forward. The motion-activated lights came on and she saw then that it was Jim Moriarty. Her Christmas present. Good old Mycroft, always true to his word. The idiot.

Moriarty held his arms out and shrugged slightly. His mannerisms…she didn't have a precise word for them. Confident, yes, but it seemed more than that. He would be perfect. She stood and approached the glass.

"I'm your Christmas present," he said, and he took a few more steps forward toward the glass, looking her over appraisingly. He must have seen the notice to stay three feet back, but perhaps he didn't care. "So what's mine?" he asked in an almost seductive whisper.

Eurus smiled and looked up at the light on the security camera. Just as she had planned, it went out, letting her know they were no longer being recorded.

"What's happening?" the governor asked as he and Mycroft sat watching the security feed in his office. He stood and went toward the security monitor.

Mycroft sighed. "I promised her," he said, "five minutes unsupervised conversation with Jim Moriarty. I can assure you this was not part of the plan, but however she did it, I suppose it isn't against the rules. Surveillance is technically supervision."

"So you're just going to let whatever this is happen?" He looked so shocked.

Mycroft gave a gesture that wasn't quite a nod but gave the same indication and leaned back in his chair. He looked at his watch casually and the governor sat back down.

"She can't get out of that glass now that no one's guarding her, can she?" he asked after a moment.

"She is locked in," Mycroft insisted. "But I suppose she could if she absolutely wanted to; she's smart enough to figure it out. Why? Are you concerned she could hurt one of Britain's most dangerous criminal minds?"

"Well, she asked for him," the governor murmured. "Seemed pretty excited when we told her he said he was coming. I don't know about hurting, but…"

Suddenly, it registered to Mycroft just what the governor was getting at, and he chuckled. "You can't honestly be worried about that?"

The governor didn't respond.

"Five minutes, unsupervised," Mycroft said again thoughtfully. "With glass between them, no less – but even if it were possible, we haven't exactly given them much time."

"Still."

"I don't see much harm in it, if it does come to that." Mycroft uncrossed his legs and sat forward, glancing for a moment to the monitor to see that it was still the same pouring water. "I doubt either of them could form an emotional attachment if they tried, and she was sterilized a long time ago. So nothing would ever come of it. Just a few minutes of fun for her, if that's possible; she'd probably see it as another experiment."

"So what are we going to do until her five minutes are up? Just sit and wait for the cameras to restart and send someone in there to collect him once it's over?"

"Precisely."

Eurus took another step toward the glass and smiled at her present. "Redbeard," she whispered.

Jim frowned just a little, perplexed, still looking at her curiously. He had no idea what it meant, and he couldn't wait for her to tell him. Eurus took another step closer, almost touching the glass now, so he followed suit. Now their faces were just centimeters apart, with only the glass between them. He smiled at her as she stared up at him, and they began to sway back and forth together, moving together in time, almost like they were making love through the glass.

Or maybe that was all in Jim's head. God, what he would have done to make love to Sherlock Holmes's cleverer sister. That would have been some Christmas present. He blinked a few times and looked at her again. They were standing still. They probably had been the entire time, he realized. She smiled at him again. Then again, maybe they hadn't. He smiled back.

"So what did you want to talk about?" he asked her.

"I need you to do something for me," she said.

"Alright," he agreed.

She glanced to her right, and he followed her gaze but saw nothing. Looking back to him, she cleared her throat, the sound echoing through the speakers harshly.

"Give me just a moment," she said, and she stepped away to the right. "Marla!" she said authoritatively.

Who was Marla? A nurse? A helper of some sort?

Suddenly, there was a soft whirring noise like an automatic door opening, and Eurus stepped out at the far right side of the glass.

"Ooh, exciting," Jim said, looking her up and down again, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

"Hello," she said to him, then looked to a door near the one he had entered through. "Marla, do you have the notes I asked you to take the other day?"

A young nurse stepped through the doors, a small, black, leather-bound notebook in her hands. She passed this to Jim, who nodded to her politely after taking it, and he looked to Eurus expectantly. Eurus simply stared straight ahead. He looked again to the nurse, but she was already gone and the door she had entered through was now sliding shut.

Eurus smiled. "So careless, isn't she? I've got almost all of them working for me now, you know. She was easy to break. Wasn't much fun really, but she's come in quite useful."

"What's all this about?" Jim asked quietly.

"That," she said, gesturing toward the book in his hands, "is what I need you to do for me. We don't have a lot of time to discuss it. I trust you're clever enough to figure it out for yourself, but by all means go ahead and look through some of it if you like and let me know if you have any questions."

He nodded and flicked through it. Inside were pages upon pages of neatly handwritten notes and drawings, all full of very exciting, intriguing instructions and concepts. But she stopped him before he got to the end, shutting the book in his face.

"You could die. That idea doesn't bother you much, does it?" she said quickly.

"No," he said slowly after a moment, looking her up and down again almost lustfully. "No, it doesn't. I really don't care if I live or die. I mean, I'm not suicidal or anything like that; I'm not actively seeking death at the moment, but I wouldn't actively try to avoid it now either if that makes sense." She nodded. "Yeah, this all looks like great fun," he went on, holding the book up. "Much more fun than simply living a normal, boring little life. Have they told you what my day job is? I'm a maths professor."

"I can only imagine how boring that must be," she said.

"Oh, it's awful. Just the same thing every day for years: numbers and textbooks and whiteboards and stupid people, day in and day out. Now this…this is going to be really fun," he said, his eyes lighting up madly. "Destroying Sherlock Holmes seems like a wonderful cause that I wouldn't mind at all dying for."

She smiled. "Good," she said quietly.

Eurus stepped closer, almost touching him once again, but this time there was no glass between them. A rush of excitement flooded through his body as he looked at her, and he touched her hair with little hesitation, then her face. She sighed and closed her eyes. It had been so long since she had felt any meaningful physical contact. This was nice.

"How much time do we have left? It can't be long," he whispered.

She looked over his shoulder now at the clock on the wall. "Two minutes, eleven seconds, but I can get Marla to stall, to pretend she can't get the door to open," she said, "if you like, that is."

"Please," he breathed, and he set the notebook on the floor.

Suddenly, he kissed her, burying one hand in her hair and placing the other firmly on her waist. He backed her up against the glass and pressed his body against hers. She was breathing hard and Jim swore if he listened hard enough he could hear her heart beating. It was going so fast. He wondered how often she got this worked up, this excited about anything. His lips trailed to the corner of her mouth, down her jaw, and to her neck where he began to kiss and suck and nibble at her skin, gently at first then a little harder until she was gasping for breath.

"Hold on," she said, and he paused. "Marla!" She waited a moment, then called, "Marla, stall for – Jim, how long?"

"Five more minutes sound like enough time for you?" he asked with a playful grin.

"Alright," she said, returning his smile.

He dropped to his knees and tugged her trousers and panties down, and he kissed her thigh once before pushing her legs apart and pulling one of them over his shoulder. Eurus shut her eyes and gasped suddenly at the feeling of his mouth between her legs. She ran a hand through his hair and pressed her hips forward slightly, thoroughly enjoying what he was doing to her.

"Oh…" she moaned softly.

"Miss? How long?" Marla's voice asked through the speakers.

"F-five extra minutes!" Eurus called.

"Yes, Miss."

"Wait, can she hear us?" Jim asked, pausing for just a moment.

"Every sound," Eurus confirmed.

"That's kind of hot," he said and kissed her hip. "God, I wish we had more time."

He stood again so that they were face to face and kissed her. She could taste herself on him. For a moment, she thought she should be disgusted, but really, she liked it. She moaned into his mouth and pushed one of her legs between his, pressing her hips firmly into his so that she could feel him against her leg. He was hard as a rock. In just a few quick moves, she undid his belt and the front of his trousers and pulled them down just enough to free him. With his help, she guided him inside her.

She had always been told this would hurt. Eurus knew, of course, that wasn't logical. It couldn't hurt every single woman the first time she had sex; that was statistically improbable. Now, she had her proof. This didn't hurt at all. It felt good. She hated that word, hated assigning "good" or "bad" to anything, but this – this felt good.

He hooked his hands behind her knees and wrapped her legs around his waist as he began to move inside her. She moaned again and tried to move with him, but he was holding her tightly against the wall, making movement nearly impossible. But she soon found there were other aspects of the activity that drove her forward, like the soft grunting noises he made under his breath with every forward motion of his hips, or the feeling of his hands as they wandered over her body before one of them found its home between the two of them where their bodies met, massaging her clit. She groaned into the kiss and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Jim," she breathed when he broke the kiss, and she looked into his dark, half-lidded eyes.

"Shh," he hushed with a laugh, breathing hard.

"Harder," she whispered her request.

Gladly, he obliged, and within seconds, she felt a quick build and release in her lower abdomen. She shut her eyes again and bit her lower lip so hard she thought she might draw blood. Her walls contracted around him and, feeling this, he smiled and kissed her neck again. With a final grunt, he finished inside her.

"Oh, God," he said breathlessly, still holding her against the wall. He chuckled. "Some Christmas present."

"I don't think this is what Mycroft had in mind when he agreed to letting me see you," she said, carefully unwinding her legs from around his waist and standing as he took a step back to fix his trousers.

On the glass behind her, he saw a sweat-fog outline of her bum and he smirked, gesturing to it. She looked behind herself and saw it immediately.

"Should we leave that?" she asked.

"Oh, we could," he said. "See if they notice."

"Hm," she said, and she pulled her sleeve down over her forearm to wipe it away. "It would bother me, even if they didn't. I hate when they leave the outside of my glass dirty. They do it sometimes just to taunt me."

"OCD, just like your brothers," he said, smiling.

She raised her eyebrows, realizing that the man her brother had dubbed "The Napoleon of Crime" had just made an effort at teasing her – at flirting with her.

Well, he did just fuck her, she thought. It would be rude if he didn't at least try to flirt, wouldn't it?

She stifled a grin. Human emotions and normal interactions were so strange, but apparently even masterminds like Jim Moriarty had something akin to them. Maybe she did, too, deep down, but she doubted it. Or maybe she just didn't want to think about them.

She grabbed her own trousers of the floor to put them back on. The insides of her legs were slick with both their sweat and she could feel his seed, thick and sticky, leaking out of her. Surely, that would make wearing the trousers all the more unpleasant, but she had to have them on when the doors were opened or there would be questions that she would rather deal with later than sooner.

"You're bleeding," Jim said, more to make her aware than to reveal any kind of concern.

"Shit," she hissed, looking down and seeing the blood on the inside of her left thigh. It wasn't much, but it would probably be enough to stain her trousers. The questions were inevitable. Of course they wouldn't care about the sex, or even the stains on the trousers. They'd want to know how she got out, and she couldn't have that.

"A little more than a minute left, Miss Eurus," Marla's voice said over the speakers. "There are men outside my office wondering why I can't open the doors. They're going to call the maintenance crew if I don't get them opened soon."

She stepped back into her trousers and Jim buttoned his coat and tucked the notebook into his left trouser pocket.

"I'm ready when you are," he said. "But just between you and me, I think that between the two of us, we could easily break you out of here," he added in a whisper, "and you could come back with me and we could cause loads of trouble."

"Hm," she intoned with a smile.

"It would be a lot of fun," he said, offering her a hopeful look. "We could be a team."

"Wouldn't it be more of a partnership seeing as there are only two of us?" she corrected him.

"Well, I've got Seb, too," he said. "Em, Lord Sebastian Moran, I mean. He's a member of Parliament, but he's also big in the terrorist network in –"

"Maybe next Christmas," she said, interrupting him.

"Oh, but imagine what we could do before next Christmas if you came with me," he returned. He took a step closer and put his lips almost to her ear. "And imagine what we could do if we were given more than five minutes alone."

"Charming," she said flatly, stepping back. She gave him another wicked little smile. "And almost tempting, but no."

"Miss?" Marla said once more.

"Go ahead and open the doors, Marla," she said.

Jim looked down at his feet, and when he did, he saw Eurus's panties lying wadded up on the floor. He ducked down to grab them, but when he went to give them back, she was already back behind her glass, and the door was shut. She gave him a look as if to say, "Keep them." So, quickly, he shoved them into the pocket with the notebook.

The door behind him slid open and he turned around calmly, his hands in his pockets, and looked at the guards who were now rushing at him.

"Hello, gentlemen," he said lazily, simply letting them take him by the arms and escort him out of the room with his only resistance being a stern but quiet utterance of, "Watch the suit."

"He?"

"She?" Sherlock suggested, still playing.

Eurus smirked. Big Brother Sherlock had no idea, and she wasn't about to clue him in. "Afraid I didn't notice in the heat of the moment."