She walked through the door, the note still crumpled in her hand. She slowly closed the door behind her. Her hand hovered over the door handle a second loger than she meant to.
The metal was cold. It hadn't been touched recently. He wasn't here.
She could have screamed, but of course, she didn't. It would do no good to give away her position.
It was times like these that she still felt as though she was an assassin. Nobody was after her, but she remained quiet; a shadow, waiting to strike.
She sighed and pulled her coat tighter around her. He wouldn't use the door anyway. He was a show-off.
She moved quietly and gracefully, checking around corners. It could be a trap. It didn't look like his handwriting.
"Still got it, honey."
She stiffened, and a smile spread across her face. "You're late," she said quietly.
"No, you're early. You're getting lazy, going by your phone clock." He had been getting closer as he spoke, and now he was directly behind her. "Nice accent, by the way."
She spun around, quickly erasing the smile from her face. "What do you want?" she asked sternly.
"Wait now, we were just having some fun." He placed his face in the crook of her neck.
She shoved him back. He rocked on his heels, and a smug smile spread across his face.
"You were always so weak when it came to me, Moran."
"Don't call me that!" The words came louder than expected. She caught herself. "That's not who I am, anymore."
Jim's grin grew. "It's who you'll always be. You are mine."
"I'm Mary."
"No, you're not," he said, in a sing-song voice.
He brought a hand to her face, and stroked her cheek. "You've been moisturising."
She didn't have the strength to push him away. "Please let me go," she said, her voice wary.
"But you haven't heard what I wanted to say." His eyes were so inviting.
She closed her eyes. "I am not Moran anymore. I am Mary Watson. I am married to John Wat-"
"You always were spectacularly useless."
He did not expect the slap she delivered. Or maybe he did, and he just hid it well.
He massaged his face. "I told you to kill him. Now I'll have to finish the job myself."
"I couldn't kill him!" She spun around, and started to walk away. He grabbed her arm.
"You could kill all the others, but not him? You're getting sentimental, Moran."
She didn't bother correcting him on her name anymore. "Why couldn't we have been a normal couple? A nice holiday on the beach instead of - of me being the only one who knows you're alive!"
He wrapped his arms around her from behind. "Now, that would be boring," he whispered into her ear. "Boring. Just like John. Just like being Mary Watson."
She didn't respond.
"Stay the night. Stay here. With me."
"I'm married."
He sighed and rested his chin on her shoulder. "No, you're not. You married with a fake identity, Moran. That means it's not legal. You're not married."
Despite herself, she rested her head against his. "I know."
"Why didn't you wait for me? You knew I was coming back."
"I wasn't sure if I believed you."
"Why not?"
She closed her eyes. "I don't know."
"Will you stay?"
John.
Jim.
John.
Jim.
John.
Jim.
Her eyes flung open. "Yes."