The Unexpected Angles
It was the middle of the night, the morgue was dark and still. Everything was cold and utilitarian, no need for esthetics in a room full of the dead. She sat on a stool, gun in hand. It felt cold and heavy like a weight pulling her down. Usually the weapon gave her a feeling of power and safety. Tonight it just made her feel uneasy as her eyes scanned the man lying in front of her. The man was the great detective, Sherlock Holmes. His body was laid out on a cold metal table, blood was still matted in his dark curls. Sherlock looked pale and fragile, almost delicate. A small grin crept over her face He knew her as Molly Hooper. Sweet, innocent Molly Hooper, the opposite of who she really was. She had been the only one to outwit the detective. She had become the thing he saw as weak. An unsure women driven by sentiment and emotion. She knew Sherlock's opinion of anything remotely sentimental. He saw it as pathetic and needy, a defect only found on the losing side. That may very well have been true and she was inclined to agree but pride had been the defect in Sherlock Holmes' fortress. She'd been able to appeal to his ego. He really didn't mind the sweet little Molly catering to his every need, practically worshiping the ground he walked on, he liked it. Sherlock liked people who liked him, who appreciated his genius. But appreciating his genius hadn't really been part of the act. She was drawn to his intelligence. She had always been drawn to intelligence. That was one of the reasons she'd become involved with Moriarty, But unlike Sherlock, Moriarty was a mad man out of control. He enjoyed games playing with people using them like pawns in a game. Sherlock Holmes was brilliant there was no questioning that, but Moriarty's recklessness gave him the edge. It had been a long term assignment. Moriarty had instructed her to get Sherlock's trust, to become part of his inner circle and to go unsuspected. She had succeeded on all accounts. It had been fun at first, She took delight in manipulating Sherlock, it was amusing when he thought he was in control of the situation. Little did he know he was the one playing the fool. They really weren't that much different when it came down to it, but perhaps she was a little less human than Sherlock was. He claimed to be immune to emotion, but he wasn't. She'd seen the vulnerable side of Sherlock Holmes many times. The fact that he was lying in front of her was proof in itself of how much he cared for others. No, he wasn't really dead but he took great risk and sacrifice to do what he had done, It was really a shame that she had to kill him. Those were her orders, but she didn't always take orders well.