Jane stood in front of her corkboard with a sense of satisfaction, exhaustion, and relief. The hard part was finally over. She had finished the planning stages for her book.
Jane rewarded herself with a few pretzels from her bowl and a quick moment of relaxation on the worn sofa and then it was back to work. She opened her laptop, pulled the outline for Chapter One off the wall and started writing. Three lines materialized on the Word Document and then her phone buzzed and lit up. Jane ignored it; she was on a roll. She ignored the three other times it buzzed, then caved when the texts changed to a call.
It was Daniel, a friend of her brother and the only of his many comrades who bothered to talk to her. She slid the answer tab and put the phone to her ear.
"Hello?"
"Hi, it's Daniel," His voice was casual, but still put Jane's mind in a bit of a haze. She swore he had one of the best voices in the world; she could listen to him talk for hours. "Are you busy right now? I texted you."
Jane glanced at her open laptop. "No, I was just…doing a bit of writing."
"Oh. Can I bother you for tonight? I need a favor."
"Of course," Jane said quickly. She paused, bit her lip while Daniel laughed. "I-I mean, what do you need?"
"A date."
"What?"
…..
"Daniel," Jane gripped his sleeve in a concerned way.
"Yes?"
"That guy with the eyepatch has a switchblade."
"Yes, well I'm going to ask that you ignore all displays of weaponry for the time being. This will only take about ten minutes and then we can go catch a film or something."
"Daniel, those are illegal here! What kind of ball is this?"
"Calm down, Jane. I already stick out here," Daniel led Jane slowly toward the row of high windows where there was less of a crowd. "Alright, perhaps I exaggerated when I said this was a ball," He murmured to her. "It's more of a get-together full of very dangerous people who more-or-less work in tandem to the British government."
Jane blinked, turned her head and looked around at the conversing men in suits and women in expensive dresses. "In tandem to the British government," Jane echoed, her tone laced with worry. "I guess this headhunting job is a lot more risky than I thought."
"This is one of my more dangerous runs," Daniel admitted. He wound his arm around Jane's and led her onward. "I just need to deliver a message to someone and then we can leave." Daniel looked about the room as he and Jane started to circle the ballroom. Jane let her writer's eye take over, taking in each person before moving on to the next. She wasn't analyzing them, just observing. She took in an older man, balding, with glasses. Behind them were clear, piercing blue eyes, like they were pieces of ice.
Jane's mother had those eyes. Her brother, Charlie had those eyes. The ones that felt like they were prodding your soul, the ones that no matter how hard she tried to lie, always whispered, "Tell the truth." After eighteen years of living under the omniscience of those eyes, she'd grown to have a certain dislike for them.
The man suddenly made eye contact with her and she tightened her grip on Daniel's arm and looked away. Daniel looked down at his impromptu partner and frowned, concerned.
"I'm alright," Jane assured him before he could say anything.
Daniel nodded, then smiled and lowered his head. "Did I tell you that you look beautiful in that dress?"
Jane broke into a smile, forgetting the strange man and running her free hand over the dress' skirt. It was a plum purple, one-shouldered and drawn in at the waist with a silver belt. Her hair was up; Jane hadn't had time for anything else. "Thank you," She murmured. "You don't look too bad yourself."
Daniel laughed, but his easy smile quickly vanished. "There he is," The pair veered toward the bar and Jane bit the inside of her cheek. "Jane, I need you to be silent around this man. Even if he asks you a question, do not answer him. If this goes like I want it to, he won't even acknowledge your presence, but I'm afraid your choice in wardrobe might have tossed that out the window."
"It's the only dress I had," Jane replied defensively. A warm blush spread across her cheeks. "Is it really that short?"
Daniel didn't answer. He slipped his arm from Jane's, curved it around her waist and came to a halt at the back of a seated man. "Mr. Moriarty," He stated clearly. The man turned on the stool and smiled flippantly.
"Ah," He took a sip from the glass in his hand and swiped his tongue over his bottom lip. "Another message from Mycroft, I presume." Daniel remained expressionless and reached into the jacket of his suit and removed an envelope. He offered it to Moriarty, who tilted his head, regarding it. His coffee-colored gaze slid over to Jane and his mouth twitched. As quickly as it had come, it went, circuiting back to the envelope. "Do you know what's in that envelope?" He asked, gesturing to it.
"A request, I assume," Daniel answered. "Among other documents. But nothing I can quote directly."
"Liar," Jane was taken aback. Her eyebrow shot up for a split second before she forced it down, inhaling sharply at her sudden mistake. Moriarty turned his head toward Jane, a ghost of a smile on his face. Jane lowered her gaze to the floor and shifted her jaw. Daniel glowered and pulled her closer to him. Moriarty's attention moved back to him and he lifted his chin. "Why don't we chat about the contents of this envelope, hm?" He slowly pulled it out of Daniel's hand and turned it so the corner touched his bottom lip.
"Certainly," Daniel's tone was curt. Moriarty turned back around, setting the envelope on the bar.
"Your escort will have to leave," He said casually. Jane's brow furrowed and she looked up at Daniel, who was only a profile as he bore his gaze into Moriarty's back. "Seeing as she's not affiliated with these affairs." Jane parted her lips, but Daniel interrupted her.
"Wait for me by the windows. I'll come and get you when I've finished." Jane backed out of Daniel's grasp and nodded, moving slowly toward the windows. She felt numb. Daniel took the empty bar stool next to Moriarty and tried not the glare as he looked up to watch her leave.
"She is exquisite," He said. "What a shame she's Canadian."
"How did you know that?" Daniel faced Moriarty, his face hard and his voice disbelieving and clipped. Moriarty didn't turn his head, but his eyes found Daniel's.
"Careful with your tone," He warned slowly. His stare returned to Jane's retreating figure. "There's a red maple leaf tattoo on her left calf." Daniel stared at the envelope on the bar. When Moriarty covered it with arm, he looked up at him. He smiled airily. "If you like your life, I strongly suggest you don't move from this bar stool at all, am I clear?"
He didn't bother waiting for Daniel to answer. He picked up the envelope, slipped it into his jacket and walked after Jane. Daniel set his jaw and searched along the second floor. He found the assassin almost immediately, leaning casually against the raining of the balcony. He talked to no one and his gaze skimmed over him every so often. Daniel fixed him with a cold look before watching Moriarty.
Jane saw him coming in the glass' reflection. She had already ruled out that he was probably a bigger threat that the blue-eyed man from earlier-there was a touch of crazy in him.
"Hello," Jane regarded him from the corner of her eye and called to mind Daniel's insistence that she not speak a word to this man. She focused on the slender wooden pane in the window, following it horizontally, then vertically. "My name is Jim Moriarty, dear. I didn't catch yours." Jane cleared her throat, swallowed and continued ignoring him. At least…she tried to. "So, Canada, eh?"
Jane's jaw dropped slightly and she stared at him full on, alarm pulsing out of her. He grinned triumphantly. "I thought that might work. Do you want to know how I know?" Slowly, Jane nodded. Technically, she thought, I'm not necessarily talking to him. "Then tell me what you name is."
"Her name," A commanding voice snarled. "Is absolutely none of your business, Mr. Moriarty." Jane bowed her head and sighed, relieved.
Charlie.
Jane could feel his tall shadow cast over her, a great sentinel that she could rely on. Jim's features melted into an unreadable type.
"Give Magnussen my regards," He replied, and then he turned on his heel and left without another word. Jane kept her eyes to the ground for as long as she could.
"Jane," Charlie said. His tone was far softer that the one he'd used to address Jim Moriarty, but it was firm. Jane looked up. There were those blue eyes. "Jane what are you doing here?"
"I-I should be asking y-you the same thing," Jane stuttered. Charlie drew his shoulders back and frowned.
"Jane, I don't have time for this; Who brought you here?" Tell the truth, her brother's eyes coaxed.
"Daniel," Jane obliged, then sent her eyes straight to the ground. She didn't even want to see his reaction. "He's at the bar."
"Right," Charlie tightened his jaw. The he reached out and placed a hand on his sister's back. "Come with me." As they neared the bar, Jane could see the fear in Daniel's eyes. Jane smiled weakly at him, glanced at the scary look in her Charlie's eyes and set her jaw. She hefted what guns she had and prepared to do battle with her brother.