My first Sherlock fanfiction. It's the first time I've tried splitting the narrative so I hope it's not too confusing. I've never written a fic about an OC before but I had this idea when Mycroft mentioned 'the other one' during the His Last Vow episode of BBC's Sherlock (I suspect many writers were inspired by this line). My OC is loosely based on Enola Holmes. I'd actually thought of my character before I knew about Enola. From Wikipedia, Enola Holmes is the younger sister and youngest sibling of Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes. She appears in the series The Enola Holmes Mysteries by Nancy Springer (therefore not exactly canon). Enola is a very independent and rebellious girl. She becomes a finder of lost things.
"I'm doing it…"
"Don't say 'for your own good'."
"I'm doing it because I care."
"Well, one of these days your caring is going to drive me away."
The words reverberated in Mycroft's head. He couldn't show care, love or affection otherwise he'd lose those closest to them. One Holmes was gone; he couldn't lose Sherlock as well.
The day Moriarty's message was broadcast around the country was the day when Saskia Williams' life changed for the umpteenth time.
It started out as a normal day. Technically, she didn't have lectures today but she was still going to head into the university. Before she left, she was making herself a cup of coffee. So, she wasn't really paying attention to the TV screen that had just switched itself on.
A voice could be heard from the television. "Did you miss me?"
"No." Saskia responded without thinking.
It was only when her brain caught up to what she'd heard that she paused. She looked up at the television screen and there, as bold as brass, was a man who was supposed to have died over two years ago.
She stood frozen in shock watching the message repeat itself. Then she felt her phone buzz. She took it out of her pocket and read the text: Sas?
So many implications in that one word so she sent back the only reply she could: No.
Saskia turned her head back to the television screen. She couldn't take it anymore so she reached for the remote to turn it off. She kept pressing buttons but the television resolutely stayed on. With a frustrated tug, she pulled the plug from the socket and finally the screen went black.
She made a decision and got out her laptop to do something she hadn't done in years. Other people would call it hacking. Saskia disagreed; she was simply finding information by any possible means. Within minutes, she had got all the information she needed and she let out a low whistle as she digested it.
Saskia swore loudly. What she had found had made her even more determined. She took out her phone again and began texting: Time to tell him.
The reply was almost instantaneous: Which one?
Both.
She paused briefly before sending another text: M first.
Sherlock Holmes got off the plane with a grim look on his face. He'd just seen the broadcast. John and Mary were standing on the tarmac and he waved to them warmly. He would have gone over to greet them properly but Mycroft had rushed over, desperate to talk to him.
Sherlock held up a hand to stop him as he looked at his phone. "Hold that thought."
Mycroft waited as patiently as he could until Sherlock gave a nod that he could continue.
"He's back."
"Funnily enough, I deduced that."
"Sherlock, this is no time for games."
"I know," Sherlock replied as sincerely as he could. He caught John's eye and beckoned the Watsons over.
Mycroft sighed. What was his brother up to? Surely, this was no time to be social.
"You already have a plan, don't you?" John remarked as he came over.
A glint in Sherlock's eye told them all they needed to know. Before he could elaborate, one of Mycroft's aides came rushing over.
"Sir?"
"Yes?"
"A woman has just called. She has information about Moriarty and she wants to see you – both of you." The aide looked at the Holmes brothers.
Sherlock blinked; he didn't seem at all surprised by this development. Mycroft, on the other hand, was extremely intrigued.
"She'll meet you at Baker Street, sir."
Sherlock had told John and Mary to go home. This was something for the Holmes brothers only. He promised that he would explain all when he next saw them.
As the Holmes brothers sat in the back of Mycroft's car on their way to Baker Street, it finally occurred to Mycroft how odd it had been that the mysterious caller wanted to meet there. He had tried to trace the location of her call but couldn't and that only heightened his suspicions.
"Relax, brother," Sherlock said with a hint of amusement in his voice. "All will be revealed soon. Look, we are nearly at Baker Street."
They were silent for the rest of the journey. As they pulled up outside 221B's door, Sherlock smiled. The door knocker was at an angle; the opposite way to how he normally left it. Mycroft got out of the car and immediately straightened the door knocker as he reached the door. They entered and walked upstairs together. They were greeted by a woman lounging casually on a chair with her feet on the coffee table.
"Hello, my darling brothers."
From the age of five, Saskia was overlooked by her brothers because she didn't share their genius. She enjoyed reading and had a fascination with all things to do with history. She was clever but there was no way she could come close to having the prowess of her brothers. And because of this, her parents paid little attention to her. Her brothers received praise for the slightest thing whereas she barely got a smile when she told her family she had passed all of her GCSEs.
Fed up with being ignored, Saskia did the only thing she could think of: she rebelled. She fell in with the wrong crowd and soon became noticed by her parents for all the wrong reasons. She could sense the disapproval in their eyes but found as time went on that she didn't really care.
Sherlock had always been her favourite brother because he did actually pay attention to her when he wasn't so caught up in his mind palace. And he understood the frustration that Saskia was feeling. He also knew that this was a way that she was trying to show her independence. So he stood by and let her carry on what she was doing. However, he did gently nudge her back onto the right path when she became a bit too destructive.
Mycroft, on the other hand, took a more direct approach. Before, he would occasionally sit with Saskia and help with her homework but that all changed when she got older. As soon as he got wind of Saskia's changing behaviour, he tried to put a stop to it. Several times, he had confronted her about it and each time they had ended up having a blazing row. She knew he was trying to help but he was going about it the wrong way and it was only widening the gap between Saskia and the rest of the Holmes family. During one argument, Saskia had even gone so far as to point that out.
"I'm doing it…"
"Don't even think of saying 'it's for your own good'," Saskia interrupted angrily.
"I'm doing it because I care."
"Well, one of these days your caring is going to drive me away."
Little did she know that the words she had said in the heat of the moment would actually become a reality. After being caught in a compromising situation with a boy, Saskia's fate headed in a downward spiral. Mycroft was very disappointed in her. Despite her recent rebellious stage, she had always seemed the type of girl who would wait until marriage or at the very least until she knew the guy a lot better. Saskia tried to explain but Mycroft wouldn't listen.
"Oh please don't say you love him. How could you? You've only known for, what, three weeks?"
"Seven months," she said quietly. Finding confidence, she spoke up. "What do you know about love anyway? Besides, it is really not what you think."
"Aw, is it true love?" Mycroft mocked. He was annoyed that Saskia couldn't see he was talking sense.
"Shut up! You know nothing!" She shouted as tears threatened to spill over.
"Well if you love him, you must marry him. After all we don't want to tarnish your reputation."
"Oh, how noble," Saskia muttered bitterly. "You don't care about my reputation. It's yours that you are worried will be ruined."
"That's not true."
"Oh but it is. Imagine the scandal if people found out about me. There'll be outrage. You'll fall out of favour before they can say 'arise Sir Mycroft Holmes' and we wouldn't want that, would we?"
They fell silent. One was bristling with anger, the other distressed.
"Saskia," Mycroft tentatively reached out for his sister's hand. He never normally did personal displays of affection but felt this situation warranted one. The fact that Saskia didn't pull away was encouraging. "It is not a scandal to have you as a sister; I find it humbling and a privilege. Like I've told you before, I act like this because I care. I am your brother and it is my duty to look after you and do the best for you. And I do think that in these circumstances it would be better all-round if you married your gentleman friend."
Saskia let go of her brother's hand. "And what if I don't want to marry?"
"Don't be silly. Every girl wants to be married. I remember that you used to play pretend weddings as a little girl. Each week, you'd get married to one of your toys. I think that shows you do dream of getting married."
"Yes. But not like this." The tears were streaming down her face now.
Mycroft was at a loss. He didn't know what to say so he awkwardly patted her shoulder. The room was silent. Only the sound of Saskia's sobs could be heard. After a while, they quietened down. Saskia removed herself from her brother and looked into his eyes.
"Mycroft, if you care for me, leave me be," she said icily before she left the room.
So, they reached an unspoken and uneasy truce whereby they didn't talk about what had transpired. Saskia was all ready to forget about their argument when a chance remark by their mother alerted her to the fact that Mycroft was still keen on the idea of her getting married to that guy who was found in her bed. Her mother's comment was thrown out so casually but it was clear that Mycroft had been dropping hints.
"You know what, mother? I would like to get married because then I wouldn't have to be a Holmes anymore." Saskia regretted those words as soon as they'd left her mouth. But it was too late. All those years of neglect, ignorance and resentment had come to a head and this was the final straw. She refused to back down even though it hurt to see her parents so distraught by her admission.
As much as he cared for his sister, Mycroft knew that, this time, she had gone too far. He pulled her out from the earshot of their parents. His voice was deadly as he gave her an ultimatum: "Well, if you don't want to be a Holmes then get out of this house, get away from this family."
Saskia ran away from home that night. Before she left, she placed a series of post-it notes on Mycroft's bureau. They were jumbled thoughts that were supposed to represent her goodbye.
I told you so.
Go ahead. Disown me.
I'm not apologising.
This is what happens when you meddle, Mycroft.
I do love you guys but I never got the impression you loved me.
Not sorry for what I said. Sorry for how I said it.
A weakness you can exploit.
I just wanted a bit of attention and affection.
Hello. I'm Saskia. You remember me, right? I'm your youngest child, your only daughter.
Caring sucks.
I can't do this anymore.
You won't find me so don't even bother. Oh wait, you wouldn't anyway because I'm not Marvellous Mycroft or Special Sherlock.
Oh, look a possible scandal.
The Holmes family: Mother, Father, Mycroft and Sherlock. Not Saskia though.
Never show you care.
This is me.
I wish you would let me in sometimes.
Sorry?
Saskia would never know which notes were seen by which family members. Three weeks later, even though she didn't want to, she found herself married to her gentleman friend, as Mycroft had called him.
Mycroft was shocked to see his sister there. It was funny; he'd been thinking about her quite a lot recently. All this business with Magnussen had brought to mind the consequences of caring too much. He was unsure how he should proceed. Saskia looked expectantly at him and he was forcibly reminded of when she was younger and looked to him for homework advice. In that instant, he knew it should be him to broach the subject. He caught her eye and mouthed "I'm sorry." Saskia nodded to show she understood all the meanings that short statement carried. There would be time later to properly make amends.
It wasn't a shock to Sherlock that his sister was in his flat. He knew she would be there and that she was the mystery caller. He walked over to her and kissed her briefly on the cheek. Mycroft was slightly wrongfooted by this display of affection. Then it all fell into place.
"You've known where she was?" Mycroft directed this to his brother.
"All along. We've been in contact with each other right from when she left home, well give or take a few weeks," Sherlock admitted as he smiled knowingly at his sister. "Why don't we all sit down and we can tell you all about it?"
Mycroft began to protest and mumbled something about "Moriarty". Sherlock waved him off with a dismissive gesture.
Saskia was walking through a park, contemplating all that she had been through in the past few weeks. Her reverie was broken when she heard a familiar voice come from behind her.
"Were you not even going to say goodbye to me?"
"You're not supposed to be able to find me," Saskia called over her shoulder as she continued walking.
"Genius consulting detective, remember?"
"More like annoying big brother."
She turned to face him with a big smile on her face. He grinned. They stepped forward and hugged each other.
"It's good to see you," Saskia said shyly into his chest. She was unsure how he'd react now that the excitement of seeing her again was passing.
"We need to talk," Sherlock said as neutrally as he could.
Saskia stiffened slightly as she allowed herself to be led to a nearby bench.
"Relax, Sas. You're not in trouble. I mean you went about it the wrong way but strangely I'm proud of you for walking away. It wasn't healthy for you being in that house."
"How much do you know?"
"Well, I understand you had an argument with Mother and Father and things were said that you regret."
"I don't regret what I said. Well, maybe I do," she conceded. "Doesn't mean what I said was not true though."
"And so you left home, leaving a note for Mycroft but nothing for me."
"You weren't there."
"All the more reason to leave me something, don't you think?"
"I'm sorry, Sherlock."
"It is I that should be sorry. If I hadn't gone to that forensic science conference in Illinois, then it wouldn't have got so bad."
"I still would have left home. It was getting to be too much."
"Yes. Well, perhaps my being there would have meant you could have left under better circumstances rather than under a cloud."
"I can't go back." It was a statement declaring that Saskia would never go home. But there was also an underlying question in her words: would she be allowed to go back?
"No." Sherlock said sadly.
Saskia pondered their conversation for a moment and sighed. "So, go on then. How did you manage to find me?"
"It's Thursday."
Saskia raised an eyebrow at that cryptic statement. She could never figure out her brother's deductive reasoning but it always amazed her when she saw it in action.
"On Thursdays, you like to walk through a London park. You visit them in alphabetical order and this week was the turn of this lovely park."
"I could have left London."
Sherlock shook his head. "Sometimes the best place to hide is in plain sight."
"Have you been looking for me ever since I left then?"
"Unfortunately, no. I've been tied up in a really tedious and long case. I could really do with an assistant or companion. I would ask you but it seems someone has beaten me to it."
"What?"
Sherlock gestured to the ring he had spotted on Saskia's left hand. She followed his gaze and she gulped guiltily.
"Would you believe me if I said it's not what it looks like?"
"I'll let you know once I've heard your story."
"Did Mycroft tell you about my argument with him?"
"No but I worked out that you must have had another argument and this one was a pretty big one."
"Do you know why we argued?"
"Yes but I don't see how this has any bearing on what you're about to tell me about your marriage."
Saskia watched in silence as realisation dawned on Sherlock's face.
"Sorry, I didn't invite you to the wedding. It was all a whirlwind. And a bit of a shotgun wedding, if I'm being honest." Saskia fiddled with her wedding ring as she spoke.
"You don't love him," Sherlock remarked quietly.
"Oh Sherlock. For once in your life, you are actually wrong. I do love him. He's the one that doesn't love me."
"Then why?"
"Why was he in my bed? Why did I marry him? To answer those questions, it's probably best if I start from the beginning. No interruptions, Sherlock. It's hard enough already." Saskia took a deep breath and began her story. "About a year ago, I became really interested in computing. I joined a club and thought I'd be learning all about html and stuff like that. Well, I did learn that. I also learnt about hacking too because it was that kind of computing club. Then, one day, he walks in. I fell for him immediately. We hit it off and soon became close friends. He'd always tell me he loved me so I told him that too. It turned out that he only loved me like best friends do. I found that out one night when we got a bit tipsy off the alcohol in Father's study. I stupidly made a pass at him and he told me that he didn't see me like that. I agreed with him that we could remain friends. I then invited him to stay the night. That was how Mycroft found us sharing a bed which started all this off. I ran away from home and went to stay with him. Not long after I moved in, he proposed; not because he loved me but because he needed to maintain a reputation as a good, upholding citizen. I said yes, hoping that eventually it would become more. But it won't. It's a marriage of convenience and yet I still love the guy."
Saskia had burst into tears by this point and could go no further in her narrative.
Sherlock gathered her in his arms and whispered quietly, "I believe you." He wanted to say more, particularly on the subject of her husband. He didn't like how her husband was treating the marriage and Saskia. Just as he was about to speak, the bells from a nearby church began to chime.
"Four o'clock," Saskia exclaimed as she jumped up. "I have to go. My husband will be expecting me."
Sherlock scowled. He had picked up on the disparaging way Saskia had said 'husband'. He was liking the man less and less. As Saskia turned to go, Sherlock reached out, grabbed her hand and said, "Please keep in touch with me."
Saskia nodded her assent and murmured, "Bye, Sherlock" as she walked away.
When Saskia lived at home, Sherlock was the one who allowed Saskia to be herself. It seemed that once again he was playing this role. Naturally, it was good to be back in contact with his sister and every time he met, he could see that being with him was the only place where she felt comfortable and happy. Sherlock blamed her marriage, about which Saskia was remarkably tight-lipped no matter how much subtle prodding he did. He didn't need to be a detective to see that she was unhappy in her marriage.
"So what do I call you now you're married?" Sherlock asked her one time.
"Saskia, like you've always called me."
"Saskia who?" He prompted.
"Well I can't be Miss Holmes anymore, I suppose. I don't really think much of my new surname. So, just Saskia will be fine."
"You could pick a new surname via deed poll."
"I could if he'd let me."
"Leave him." Sherlock implored suddenly.
"I can't."
Sherlock's mind whirred. What hold did this man have over his sister? Was it blackmail or something much more sinister? She'd admitted that their marriage was a sham for tax reasons, she assumed even though she didn't really ask why they had to be married. But Sherlock couldn't quite understand why she remained married; she couldn't just be doing it because of love. There was more to it than that. He became more determined that his assumption was correct when he heard what Saskia said next.
"The marriage is only over when he says it is done."
"Does he know about us?" A thought had just occurred to Sherlock. From the little he'd learnt about this man, he seemed to be the type who would want to know every movement of his wife and would use any means to find that information out.
"No."
"But he could do. He could hack into your phone."
"No he couldn't."
"Sas. You met on a computer hacking course." Sherlock tried hard to keep his voice neutral. He slightly disapproved of that activity even though he had taken advantage once or twice of Saskia's skills to help him in his cases.
"Yes. And who would have got full marks if it was a legitimate qualification? Who would be top of the class?" She paused briefly for effect. "Me. I know how to do things with computers that even he wouldn't dream of. You think I don't know how to counteract a simple phone hack?"
"It appears I have underestimated you."
"See this?" Saskia held her mobile phone up. "I've made it untraceable, so untraceable that officially it doesn't exist. No one can find this phone. And for good measure, I encrypt and scramble all text messages, calls and contacts."
"Impressive." Sherlock said then corrected himself. "I mean, hacking is wrong. You shouldn't do it."
"Hypocrite," Saskia coughed.
"I'm sorry, what was that?"
"You heard me perfectly well."
Sherlock raised his eyebrows in challenge.
"You dislike the concept of hacking yet it has been extremely useful to you. Without me, there is no way you would have been able to solve that case about the racehorse."
"And for that, I am very grateful," Sherlock said sincerely.
"Yeah. Well you just remember that I'm always available if you need to utilise my skills again."
And with that, another of their secret meetings drew to a close.
"OK, so you two have been in cahoots and I know why you didn't want to tell me. But, answer me this, Saskia, what have you been doing with yourself all this time?"
"Oh you know, this and that," she replied evasively. "I suppose the thing of most interest to you is that I got married."
"You're married? But you said you didn't want to get married."
"Yes," she said through gritted teeth. "But unfortunately, I didn't have much say in the matter."
"When did this happen? Are you still married? Where is your husband? Were you forced to marry him?"
Sherlock snorted. "You're getting protective of her now?!"
Mycroft chose to ignore him.
"So many questions, dear brother," Saskia said. "But not the one I want you to ask."
"What do you want me to ask?"
"I wanted you to ask if you knew him."
"Do I know your husband?" Mycroft asked with a sinking feeling as he suspected he knew what her answer would be.
"Why, yes, Mycroft, you do know him. Remember that guy you threw out of my bed?"
Mycroft was astounded, yet again.
"I told you before that your assumptions about me and him were wrong," Saskia continued. "Did it strike you as odd that he was impeccably fully clothed? Surely if we were doing what you suspected we were doing, his clothes would be in disarray. Mine too."
Mycroft was still trying to fathom exactly what Saskia was telling him when she dropped another bombshell.
"You never knew his name, did you? Course you didn't. You were trying to protect your sister's reputation. Do you want to know his name? It was James Moriarty."
Saskia strongly suspected her husband was up to no good right from the start. Strangely, or perhaps not considering she also did it, it wasn't the hacking that caused her to believe James was a wrong 'un. It was something else; something she couldn't quite put her finger on. He was never really around so she couldn't confront him about it. His absence also meant that she couldn't confront him about their non-existent relationship status. James never told her what he was up to and in Saskia's eyes, that was rather telling that whatever he was doing was possibly illegal. It was only when Saskia heard about the attempted assassination of the army doctor, who was Sherlock's roommate and assistant, that she suddenly became interested in the actions of her husband.
She called her brother. "It's him."
Sherlock was perplexed. He had no idea what she meant.
"My husband," she spat with such loathing "is the man who nearly got your friend killed."
Sherlock hung up quickly but not before he had arranged to meet Saskia as soon as possible.
When he arrived at their meeting place, he took one look at his sister and realised that she had no idea what her husband had been up to. She looked horrified. Obviously, she had used her own methods of research to find out what he'd done.
"Do you still love him?"
"No. I think I stopped loving him ages ago. But this has cemented how I feel about him."
Sherlock nodded. This would make it easier for what he needed her to do. "Sas, will you do something for me?"
Without hesitation, Saskia agreed and began her task as soon as she returned to her flat.
The Baker Street flat was quiet as Saskia's revelation about her husband sank in.
"How did I not notice?" Mycroft muttered, more to himself. "I thought he looked familiar when his picture was all over the media but I didn't make the connection."
Saskia began to count under her breath. Before she reached 'ten', Mycroft turned his attention to her.
"So, Mrs Moriarty."
Saskia shuddered and grimaced. "Don't call me that."
"I guess this makes you one of his accomplices."
"Absolutely not."
"But surely as his wife, you knew what he was up to."
"Oh I knew alright. But I never played a part in his schemes. I never helped him. I passed on everything I knew to Sherlock."
"It's how I was able to catch up to him," Sherlock admitted.
"My marriage to him was fake in every respect. I was used; just another pawn in one of his games. I couldn't escape. So, I became Sherlock's spy. I did that right up until Moriarty's death."
"But he is not dead, is he?"
"I didn't know that."
"Really?"
"As far as I was concerned, my so-called husband died. I had it on good authority." She glanced at Sherlock.
"So you didn't have any idea he was going to come back?"
"I thought he was dead."
"Sherlock, do you believe that she knows nothing about Moriarty's return from the dead?"
"Yes," he replied. "I admit that I had my doubts for a moment. It's why I sent that message, Sas. I had to check."
Saskia understood. She would have done the same.
"Of course, it could all be an elaborate ploy. You know for insurance." Mycroft remarked.
"I thought he was dead." Saskia repeated with emphasis to get her point across.
"We all did." Sherlock acknowledged.
Saskia last saw her 'husband' right before it all kicked off. Of course, she didn't know at the time what was to happen at the hospital. But there was a certain finality in their last meeting.
Over the years, she had gotten used to him never being around and only seeing him when he needed something. Luckily, thanks to her ingenious hacking skills, she always had a bit of a heads up when she would next see him. She didn't react as right on cue he entered the apartment.
"James," she said stiffly as she carried on reading her book.
"Sas!" He responded brightly.
Saskia winced slightly. She didn't like him calling her that. There was only one person she would allow to use that nickname and he wasn't there.
"How is my darling wife?"
In the early days of their marriage, her heart always fluttered when he used endearments like that, even though their marriage was just for show. She enjoyed the affection and harboured a secret hope that one day he would actually declare his love for her. Over time, this faded. She was never sure if he was being sincere or not. There always seemed to be an undercurrent of something menacing in his words, as if there was a hidden agenda behind them. Yes, her feelings towards James had definitely soured. It didn't help that he wouldn't allow them to separate even though it was becoming increasingly obvious that he no longer needed her as a best friend, confidante or fake wife. It also didn't help that Saskia now knew what he was really like.
"What do you want?" She asked sharply.
"That's no way to greet your husband."
"Get straight to the point, James, and tell me what you want."
"I need you to do some research for me."
Saskia decided to play dumb even though she knew exactly what he was getting at. "Oh, well the wifi's on. You just need to turn your laptop on, connect to a browser and type what you want to look for in Google."
"No. The information I need isn't available via Google."
"Oh, couldn't you do it yourself?"
"No. You have to do it."
"Really? I'm sure you're capable enough to do a bit of hacking yourself."
"Oh, Saskia, you're so much better at it me. You know I only do well with hacking that creates a bang. But when I need things to be under the radar, I just can't do it."
Ah, so he was hoping flattery would work, was he? Saskia thought. She remained silent, seeing how far he would go.
"Please," he began to plead. "I'll give you anything you want."
"That's low."
"What do you mean?"
"It's an empty promise. You won't give me what you want."
"Name it and I'll give you it."
"Divorce papers?"
"I can't give you that."
"Thought not," she said quietly and then raised her voice slightly. "That's my price."
He struggled with himself internally before speaking, "OK."
Saskia was confused. He never gave in to her demand for that. He must really want that information. Despite part of her mind screaming out that he wouldn't actually give her the papers, she was still curious about this information that was obviously so essential for him. "What do you need me to search for?"
He looked triumphant as he told her exactly what he wanted.
Saskia was deeply shocked. "No way!"
"Excuse me?"
"I'm not doing it."
"Ooh, when did you become Miss High-and-Mighty? It's the same as what you do."
"No it's not. This is completely different." She realised her argument sounded weak as she spoke.
"No. You see, I think they're on a par with each other. What I want to know is exactly the type of thing you hack into computers for. Me and you, my dear," and this time the sneer behind the endearment was blatant, "are kindred spirits."
The protest died in her throat. She could deny it all she wanted but he wouldn't believe her. So, what was the use?
"Yes, we are one and the same. Perhaps time apart will make you see that. Goodbye, Saskia." James quickly exited the apartment leaving Saskia slightly stunned.
She pulled herself together and picked up her phone to send a text to her brother. He had to know what Moriarty was after. Then she thought about what Moriarty had said to her.
He was right. She was no better than him. She exploited information for her own purposes albeit in a slightly different manner. She felt disgusted with herself. Suddenly, she didn't want to hack. The final thing she did before giving it up, for what she assumed would be forever, was change her name. She was now Saskia Williams and could start her life afresh.
A couple of days later, her brother visited her.
"I'm telling you this before it all comes out in the media and because I don't think there's any other way you'd hear about it. He's dead. He shot himself on the roof of a hospital to spite me."
Saskia nodded. It wasn't surprising to her that she felt nothing about this. There was only a small sense of relief that she could now get on with her life and do what she wanted.
"There's more."
"Oh yeah?"
"Technically, I'm dead too."
Saskia was intrigued and got Sherlock to tell her the whole story as she made them both some tea.
After he had finished his story, he asked casually, "So, what's new with you?"
"Oh, well, apart from being a widow, I am now officially called Saskia Williams and I start a course in archaeology next week."
"Congratulations," Sherlock said warmly.
They drank their tea in companionable silence.
"You will keep in touch, won't you?" Saskia suddenly piped up, as if the thought had only just occurred to her.
"Of course. Your phone is still untraceable, right?"
She nodded.
"Could you do one more bit of hacking and make my phone untraceable?" Sherlock asked as he threw her his phone.
Saskia caught it and set to work with a chuckle. "I'm not even going to ask how you knew I'd stopped doing that."
"Well it's quite simple, Sas. It was obvious you were getting disillusioned with the whole thing. I imagine someone has said something to you which has made you rethink your actions. Besides you no longer have to do that now Moriarty isn't here."
"I swear to you that I believed I had become a widow and had no reason to think that that was false. He's the one who lied, the one who faked his own death," Saskia asserted.
"Yes, well this is all very touching. Is this the information you wanted to give us? That you were unhappily married to Moriarty and understood he has been dead for the past two years. How exactly is that going to help us?"
"Because I know where he is now." Saskia said smugly.
Sherlock smiled serenely. He was proud that his little sister had managed to work that out. Even he hadn't got that far in his deductions.
Mycroft's mouth dropped open in surprise. He opened and closed it a few times before finding the words to speak. "How?"
"Oh, it's quite easy if you know how to access information that's hidden."
"You're a hacker?"
"Yes. Well, I was. And I hope you understand the risk I'm taking in telling you this. I want, no, I expect immunity from prosecution because after all, I'm helping you catch someone whose crimes are much worse than a little demolishing of firewalls and such things."
"OK," Mycroft acquiesced.
"I have other conditions."
"Go on."
"I want legal, bona fide divorce papers so I can get rid of him once and for all."
"I can arrange that for you."
And now for the kicker, Saskia thought. "I want to deliver them to him myself before you get to him."
"Absolutely not." A voice exclaimed preposterously.
Saskia blinked in surprise. She had expected Mycroft to be the one who objected. But, actually it was Sherlock who had exclaimed.
"And why not, dear Sherlock?" Saskia turned to her brother. "I would relish being able to hand him the divorce papers. Don't you think I've earned that chance to finally see what it's like to get his just desserts?" She grinned widely. "Besides I think it would be better coming from me that I was the one who betrayed him."
Sherlock had to admit that she made some very good points. "OK. But you're wearing a wire when you go to talk to him."
"Now hang on," Mycroft protested. "This is all riding on the information about his whereabouts."
"Oh, believe me, brother, you're going to like what you're about to hear." Saskia pulled a piece of paper out of her bag and began to explain. "You see, if you know how, it's quite easy to work out where a broadcast such as the one this morning comes from. Because it was being broadcast everywhere simultaneously, he would have needed an internet connection with the capacity to send the broadcast. So, all I had to do was find out the IP address. A quick search gave me the information I wanted. But imagine my surprise when I realised it was my IP address. I knew that wasn't possible. And then I realised that he'd reversed the digits. Clever, really. I don't know whether he knows that it's my IP address or whether it's just a coincidence. But anyway, once I worked out what he'd done, I was able to find a location, which is actually not that far away." She passed the paper to her brothers who read it with a look of exultation on their faces.
An hour later, Saskia was sitting in a car with her brothers on her way to Moriarty's hideout. She was wearing a tiny microphone and was clutching the divorce papers in her hands.
As the car pulled up, Mycroft was shaking his head at the ingenuity of Moriarty's location. "Right under our noses."
Saskia and Sherlock shared a private smile because that was exactly what she had done when she had ran away from home.
Saskia got out the car and with a fleeting glance at her brothers entered the building. She quietly opened the door not wanting to alert him to her presence until she was ready. He had his back towards her so he didn't notice her come in.
"James," she said stiffly.
He turned around upon hearing her voice and quickly masked his surprise. "Knew you'd be able to trace me."
"Well, if you're going to scramble your IP address to resemble mine, of course I'm going to find you."
"I did not realise I did that. But, well done my clever little hacker."
"I'm not your anything. At least I won't be once you sign these." She thrust the papers and a pen towards him.
"What's this?" He asked innocently, a little too innocently.
"Legal papers that once signed will mean that our marriage is dissolved, null and void."
"Nuh uh. You don't get to say when this marriage ends. I do."
"Yeah, well, the game has changed. I must be talking to a ghost since here you are."
"Ah, about that," he began.
"I don't wanna hear it. I already know."
They were silent as Moriarty began to flick through the papers.
"Tut tut, Saskia. All this slander about me. Lying, irreconcilable differences, desertion."
"Look closely," Saskia instructed. "And you will find that those reasons actually apply to me."
Moriarty began to read the document more carefully and muttered aloud. "Marriage to be annulled… for the following reasons… not consummated… separated for over two years… blah blah blah… as relating to the spouse named below: Saskia Williams, formerly Mrs Saskia Moriarty and born Miss Saskia Enola Jane Holmes."
He looked thunderstruck as the name sank in.
"All this time and you had no idea who I was," Saskia explained. "You think you're a genius but you couldn't see what was in front of you. Holmes is not that common a surname and I was certain that it was only a matter of time before you realised the family connection. I was playing a dangerous game, you see. I suppose I'm what you'd call a double agent. Because while you believed I was being a dutiful and loyal wife, I was actually loyal to another. I've been giving information about you to my brother for years."
"How? I was so careful to make sure I covered all my tracks."
"And you did a brilliant job. No one else would have been able to do what I did. I'm not being modest here; I'm just telling you like it is. There was a loose thread in your web, James Moriarty, and you didn't realise it was me."
She could see the defeated look in his face; he wouldn't fight her on this. He realised that he longer held the power in their relationship. She did; she had information at her fingertips that could most definitely ruin him. He had to stop her so this time he genuinely gave in to her demand that she had wanted for so long. He picked up the pen and signed the papers. Saskia looked on, satisified. She gathered the papers and watched for a moment as the shock of betrayal etched itself on his face.
"He's all yours," she said clearly as she backed out of the room with a triumphant last look at the man in front of her.