"What's wrong with you?" Joan stormed in to the hotel room on a mission. Well, it was less storming and more aggressively walking past the threshold. She was angry but she did not want to provoke any trigger happy henchmen.
"Your aversion to proper greetings is concerning." Jamie was seated at her desk, in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. A cart filled with a bowl of ice, two tumblers and a few bottles of very expensive looking whiskey sat to her left. She held a third glass in her hands with a scant amount of whiskey and a lone ice cube left. She looked as if she had been waiting for this.
"Cut the shit and answer the question?" Joan clutched the files in her arms and pulled them to her chest.
"Fine, what exactly are you referring to this time?" Jamie took her time finishing the remaining whiskey in her tumbler. "Because, according to you, there are many things wrong with me." She spun the remaining ice cube around the glass, with her finger, waiting for the conversation she had been expecting all day.
"We can start with the family of four that were killed execution style." Joan tossed one of the files at her feet. "Or we can talk about the couple that was found in the river this morning." Joan threw the remainder of the files against the wall. "Your choice."
"And you think I had something to do with these?"
"I know you had something to do with them. Start talking and please try not to lie." Joan crossed her arms against her chest yet again, feeling a little exposed without the files.
"I think you've forgotten who you are speaking to. Do not let our friendly correspondence cloud your judgement."
"Are you threatening me?" Joan's hands curled into fists.
"Take that however you see fit."
"I'm not afraid of you."
"Oh, really?" Jamie quirked her eyebrow in the way she knew always annoyed Joan.
"Really." Joan was surprised to find that she actually believed her words. They were foolish words, but she believed them nonetheless.
"I had nothing to do with their deaths. I even alerted the authorities to their murderers."
"Because they were killed by rivals and having them in prison benefits you. You knew that they were targets and you just let them die. How can a person have so little regard for other people?" Joan dug her nails into her palms to keep from yelling.
"It's quite refreshing, actually." Jamie reclined in her chair, crossing her legs seductively. "While you're over there huffing and puffing over the lives of people you've never met, I, on the other hand am drinking rather expensive whiskey and contemplating what I'll be having for dinner."
"Two kids were killed! An eight year old and a toddler. Do you really have no heart at all?"
Jamie shrugged it off.
Joan was quiet for a long minute, eyes trained on the floor. She let out a large sigh before meeting Jamie's eyes again. "Thank you."
"Why I think you've gone mad, Watson." Confusion was evident in her voice.
"No, I mean it." Joan strode across the room to the cart. "I keep building up this false idea of you, in my head. I needed this." Joan grabbed a spare tumbler and poured herself a healthy glass of whiskey. She drank half of it in one gulp. "I needed to remember the monster you are, so thank you."
"So we're back to the Gods and monsters are we? I thought we established that I do not believe in extremes. I thought you agreed."
"I didn't until I met you." She polished off the rest of her glass. "You are pure evil. There is no spec of good in your heart."
Jamie chuckled at that. She had heard those words before. Many times actually. Usually before she pulled the trigger.
"No amount of gifts, midnight chats or walks in the park with you will ever change that. I needed to be shocked back into reality."
"I know it was not your intention, but I am feeling rather special now. I have changed Joan Watson's perception of the world."
Joan chuckled this time. She placed the tumbler back on the cart and moved to the door.
"Leaving so soon?"
"Yeah, I have a lot of work to do." Joan did the coded knock on the door to alert the body guards of her departure. She cringed at the fact that she had been in this very room enough to know it by heart, with no hesitation. She visibly shuddered when she thought of how those visits had more to do with pleasure than business.
"I've checked your schedule, you have nothing planned and Sherlock is away for the next few days. What ever will you be doing?"
"I'm going to put you back in prison, if its the last thing I do." The door opened and Jamie's minion of the week escorted Joan out of the room before any more words could be spoken. Jamie would have taken it for an empty threat but the conviction in Joan's voice said otherwise.
Jamie retrieved her phone and immediately sent a team to keep and eye on Joan's movements. She learned not to underestimate the women before but a little precaution wouldn't hurt.
It was a pity, really. She hoped she would have a little more time with Joan before things came to a head. Maybe another month just to sate her. Unfortunately for her, Joan was getting better and quicker. There were only two ways this would end and neither was desirable. Either Jamie was sent back to prison or more blood would spill. Hopefully not Joan's but only time would tell.