To any passerby, the strange woman sitting alone by the café window might have looked like a model, causally posing for some invisible painter. The very way she held herself oozed class beyond anything that could seem normal outside of a frame hung in a museum. Her straight back, crossed, elegant and lady like legs, the way she was taking slow, even sips from her cup—it was all a level of artistry that didn't seem very natural for most people, but for Alice, presenting herself in different ways in order to manipulate…well it was in and of itself—an art.
She always liked to make a good first impression.
She continued to sit, small book in one hand (some useless piece of drabble that was apparently a best-seller in her demographic) and her cup in the other, tuning out all other sounds in the store. The café was relatively quiet, a waiter walking about, a few cups clattered down on tables, but she ignored these sounds. She listened for those she'd been patiently waiting all morning for; his footsteps. When the plain clothes man finally did sit down across from Alice on her table, baseball cap pulled down, body relaxed, she didn't yet acknowledge him. Mustn't be too eager, Alice.
For a moment he simply sat there in silence, watching as Alice drew another long sip of her coffee, her lipstick leaving a clear red smug along the side of the cup. He smiled, drumming his fingers along the side of the table in a fast steady beat. Alice lowered her cup and turned to the next page of her book.
"If, Ms. Morgan, you decide to tell me where exactly you learned my name I promise to make your death as quick and painless as possible."
Alice folded her book closed with a sigh and finally met the eyes of the man sitting across from her. He looked back, the two darks orbs of his eyes managed to somehow portray utter boredom and barely surpassed rage at the same time. The coldness in them was new to her, something she'd never seen outside of a mirror. Oddlyfascinating. Is that what I look like to others?
"You're later, Mr. Moriarty." She said sternly. "I ordered you a cup of earl grey but I fear it's already gotten cold—"
"Ah-ah-ah, Jim, please." Moriarty hissed, the smile on his lips never reaching his eyes. "The name, my dear, where exactly did you hear it?" The drumming of his fingers was erratic.
"The tongues of your henchmen are very loose around pretty ladies." She said, tossing her hair back over her shoulder with a smile. "Especially ones with prettier knives." They'd told her more than just his name really. Even when she'd been cutting them, they'd seemed more scared of what he would do to them than what she was currently doing. Alice had felt a little insulted.
The thinly veiled anger on Jim's face vanished as he closed his eyes. "Hmmmm, that certainly explains a lot."
"I'd heard rumor about a man— well whispers about rumors about a man- a man who people like me went to when they were in need." The corners of his lips twitched into a small smile for an instant. "I didn't quite feel like talking to your henchmen. I much prefer handling sensitive issues in person." Her words dropped into a mocking whisper.
He opened his eyes again, leaning in across the table "Oh?" Jim replied, his voice was soft, almost gentle. "And what exactly do you need from me, milady?"
"I recently broke out of a mental institution and thought I might try leaving the country for a little while." Jim raised an eyebrow slowly. Alice smiled, she had his interest now.
"A mental institution, huh?"
"Yes, apparently murder is frowned upon in this country." Alice leaned forward, placing her chin on the back of her hands. Their faces were so closer together that she could count the eyelashes in his unblinking eyes. His head leaned slowly to the side, eyes following every movement she made in silence. Alice had never been so unable to read another person. Finally, after a few silent moments, she saw his shoulder begin to shake slowly with silent laughter.
"This country is rather boring like that." He said, rolling his eyes. Alice tried her best not to seem too relieved at the change in atmosphere. Jim brought a finger to his lips, running it slowly across his mouth. "I suppose I'll help you then."
"Wonderful!" She said, clapping her hands together with exaggerated excitement.
Jim chucked to himself softly. "Sure, I'll help you. You have guts and I've helped people who were far more boring than you for less. But…"
Alice paused, mid-sip of her coffee. "But?"
"Don't plan on coming back…" He sang. Alice bit her lip, her smile still in place.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"How shall I say this like a gentleman…? If you set one foot in England again after I've gotten you out, I'll spend the rest of my days using your skull as my personal wine glass." Alice lowered her cup slowly down to the table, her previously amused expression melting into one that no one but her and the relatively small number of people who'd watched her kill, recognized.
"I'm afraid that's just not going to work for me, considering my case—"
"I heard all about your case, Alice." Moriarty began to push himself to a standing position
. "A fan?" Alice asked, trying unsuccessfully to lighten the mood. Her finger tapped slowly against the side of her cup. Calm yourself ,Alice, you need this man...
This time Moriarty couldn't hold in his laugh. "Not quite. I'm part of a much better fan club, my dear." He pushed his chair back as he began to get up. "I will have whatever you need to leave the country in three days' time. Have yourself ready by then—"
"No." Alice said firmly, her eyes locked on his. She could feel her temper rearing its ugly head. She tried to push it back down. It was never good, she needed to be calm now. Alice was at her best when she was cold, calculated and detached. She would not give this man the upper hand.
"This isn't a negotiation." Jim said. He smiled as he back away from the table. Without missing a beat, Alice grabbed the mans hand with her left, pushing the knife she concealed in her sleeve against the sensitive skin of his wrist. She pulled forcefully at him until Jim was forced, with a wide grin on his face, to take back his seat across from the scowling woman.
"No." She said slowly, her heart racing. She could feel his heart racing as well, in the form of the quick pulse that pounded against her knife.
"Tsk, tsk, that wasn't a very clever move." He waved his free hand casually above his head. Alice looked down at her chest to see a small red dot shining in from through the café window. It was there for just a moment before vanishing. She didn't loosen her grip. "You didn't think I'd actually come and meet you without back up did you? Someone like me meeting someone with your reputation?"
Alice couldn't help but feel a little proud of herself. "The reputation for things I 'allegedly' did?" She flinched as she felt Jim's nails digging painfully into her hand, squeezing harshly despite the knife at his wrist.
His voice was cold when he spoke again, no trace of humor in it anymore. "Your crimes up to this point have been…cute, at most, but I don't care for competition. I've been keeping taps on you and sooner or later, if you'd stayed here, I would have either ended up killing you or recruiting you, and to be honest, you're remind me faaaar to much of myself for this…" He gestured back and forth between the two of them with his free hand, and held in a fake sob. "…to end in anything but blood." His nails dug deeper and Alice felt them break skin. It occurred to Alice at that moment that this man's insanity might actually have been greatly understated by his henchmen.
Alice tucked the blade of her knife further into her sleeve for a moment as a waiter passed by the two of them. Without being able to see the knife and with her hands clutched desperately around his, they looked like a couple in love—their wide smiles at a quick glance seemed far more friendly than homicidal. The knife nicked gently at Moriarty's skin before she responded.
"I'm not an ambitious woman, Jim. I just have someone I care to visit from time to time." Alice swore she could feel Jim's sniper still locked onto her.
Jim rolled his eyes. "Oh please, love? How cliché. And you had me so interested with all of your 'feminine mystic' and talk of murder." He sucked his teeth in a very teenage-girl like fashion. "I must admit, I'm a little disappointed to hear that."
Alice's eyes narrowed. She pulled her knife away from Moriarty's wrist. "You strike me as an intelligent enough man, tell me something; have you ever felt lonely in your genius? Like you were some kind of freak that wasn't really meant to exist and that everyone else was so stupid that you might as well be a different species?"
"Me? A freak?" Jim licked lazily at the small traces of blood than ran down his wrist, his unblinking eyes still focused on Alice. "No, never, but I'll grant you the 'different species' thing. I do hope there's a point to all this…?"
"I met a man not too long ago, one on the much less interesting side of the law, and for once in my life I actually felt like there might be a person who truly saw me." Her flat end of her blade ran unseen across her lips from beneath her sweater. "At first I thought it was just the thrill of the chase. Knowing I was matching wits with someone in a real life game of chess-coupled with his very short temper and slightly ambiguous morals—well it was all amazingly exhilarating. But soon I came to see my feelings for him morph into something else entirely."
Jim didn't react. He remained calmly focused on Alice's movements. At last, when he finally seemed to notice the quiet he cleared his throat. "Love, my dear?" He asked in a bored drawl.
This was Alice's turn to laugh. She stared down at her rapidly cooling cup of coffee. "No, I still don't really know if I'm capable of something as dull as love. But whatever this feeling is its powerful, and all-consuming and it makes me want to kill things so that I never have to see him suffer…" Alice looked back into Jim's eyes, "…so I never have to watch him waste that beautiful mind of his. Can you understand any of this-?"
"My henchmen told you about him." Jim said abruptly.
Alice paused for a moment, her smile mischievous. "You just can't find good help these days."
Jim pulled out his phone and began texting angrily. "Someone's getting their tongue cut out tonight..." he whispered under his breathe.
"That doesn't make anything I've said any less true."
"Oh, I know it's all true." He said, pocketing his phone. "But you don't really think I'm going to…empathize with you do you?" He spoke the word as if it had a bad taste to it.
"No…I'm not really that naïve. It was just a shot in the dark."
Jim reached into his coat and pulled out a large brown envelope, waving it dramatically in the air between them. "A good one, I'll grant you that." He slid the envelope across the table to Alice who stared quizzically at it for a moment. When she reached for it he pulled it away.
"I haven't changed my mind, Alice, if you attempt to return you'll be dead before you've cleared customs."
Alice reached across the table, pulling the envelope away from him. Glancing inside she found a fake passport and series of documents proclaimer her a Canadian citizen. He had everything she needed from the start…had all of this just been him testing her? She'd gotten what she wanted, but Alice couldn't help feeling like she'd lost at whatever this little game had been. Their eyes locked one last time, and shiver ran up her spine at the look on the consulting criminals face.
He was still smiling at her, technically, but she'd never seen eyes so lifeless, so devoid of anything remotely human in nature. It was as if behind those eyes was some cold, dead thing had crawled into his skin and now sat watching her like she was a moth tacked to a lab tray. It was…honestly it was beautiful. There was a desire building in her but she wasn't sure if it was to stab him, or to obey her primal instincts telling her to run.
Alice choose to smile back as the true meaning behind his words registered in her mind.
He was challenging her.
Her answer was as polite and cordial as she could manage. "I wouldn't dream of it." She said, planning her first trip back in great detail. Both parties' smiles intensified for a moment in the face of her boldfaced lie.
"Goodbye then, Alice Morgan."
"And a good day to you then, Jim Moriarty."
END