Ok, so as per my previous story, Of Doctors and Detectives, I thought it would be interesting to do a sort of... prequel?
Right before Moriarty came back... But to explain more about the Mary thing, so if you haven't read my other story, fear not, for this is a before thing. You don't need to read that one to understand this one. But you could read my other one after, to give you all the feels.
I also have the breaks between scenes as like, binary or something... Idk it was all I could come up with!
ALL THE FEELS!
"Mary Watson." A mans voice said, the blonde turned to look at him. He was tall, thin, he had on thin wire-frame glasses that did nothing to mask the boldness of his eyes. He was terrifying, but nothing she couldn't handle.
"Yes? Why did you send me this?" She held out a letter. A letter that gave her specific instructions to meet him in the dead restaurant she was currently sitting in. The man smirked and sat across from her, picking up half of the sandwich she was currently too nervous to actually eat. As he took a bite, Mary's breathing hitched, it was obvious this man was dangerous, but in what way she didn't know. She cleared her throat, looking around for signs of someone she knew, "How do you know so much about my past? The people I've... Taken care of..." She was hardly able to speak the last few words.
"Oh Mrs. Watson... You're naive if you think that your records were destroyed. No, of course not. You see I have a contact at the CIA, and they gave me all of your files. I know every dirty detail about you." He tossed the sandwich back onto her plate.
"Ok, what do you want?" She asked, her anger rising. She was not used to taking threats so lightly, but for the sake of her new life, she had to push through it.
"Sherlock Holmes." He said, his voice dropped to a menacing growl.
"What?" Her brow furrowed, "If you want Sherlock, why go through me?"
"Simple. He cares about John Watson, John Watson cares about you." He laughed lightly.
"What do you want with Sherlock?" She asked, the anger beginning to boil, making her feel sick. She clenched her fists, realization starting to hit her.
"Nothing of your concern. It goes beyond him." He wiped his hands free of the crumbs onto her jacket, which was sitting on the table.
"You..." She looked at him, really looked at him and it dawned on her, "You're the one who put John in the fire?"
"You're a smart cookie." He said, standing.
"You're going to leave us alone. I don't care what you want Sherlock for, and I don't care what you have on me. You will not threaten my family." She stood as well, trying to appear as strong as she could in her current nauseous state.
"You're with child." He said simply, and she sucked in an unsure breath, "I wouldn't try to take a stand against me, if I were in your current position."
"Or what?" She challenged, crossing her arms across her chest.
"Steven Reynolds." He said, the name hit her like a brick.
"You can't scare me." She said, trying hard not to lose her composure, "He has no idea where I am. And wouldn't be able to find me, not unless he..." And again, she was hit with realization.
"Unless he infiltrated the CIA database? Exactly, Mrs. Watson. If you don't want him to, oh I don't know, suddenly become aware of your whereabouts, then you'll agree to help me out." He watched her facade crumble. She took a deep breath, sitting back in the booth. As tears escaped her eyes, she held her hand to her mouth, stifling a sob.
"He's the only person I've ever failed to..." She couldn't complete her sentence. She closed her eyes and tried to regain her composure.
"I know." He laughed and adjusted his jacket, "Consider this my final offer. You tell me what I need to know, and I'll let you remain hidden." She opened her eyes, grabbed her jacket and threw money onto the table. As she tugged on her coat she straightened up, looking him in the eye.
"You don't scare me. Now if you'll excuse me, I have urgent matters that need attending." She took a deep breath and turned away from the man and headed out the door.
0101010101010101010
"Sherlock, where did you move the tea to?" John asked his former flatmate as he was standing in the kitchen, trying to find what he asked for.
"We don't need tea right now, John! We need a case! I'm dying of boredom!" Sherlock stood from his chair and strolled to the window, rubbing his hand over his mouth, "I just need something to interest me."
"Well I'm sure you'll find something soon enough!" He replied, opening a cupboard, "Aha! Here it is!" He pulled out the box and began making himself a cuppa.
"What's Mary doing here?" Sherlock asked.
"Um... I don't know. She said she had an important meeting... She shouldn't be here." John replied, becoming puzzled.
"Yes... And why is she behaving like a... Well like a client?" Sherlock stared at the woman he'd come to know over the months since his return from the dead.
"What do you mean?"
"She's been pacing back and forth outside for the last thirty seconds, she's wringing her hands together, and she's talking to herself. Probably trying to figure out what she's going to say..." Sherlock said, and John ran to the window beside him.
"Oh no, I hope nothing's happened to the baby." John said, Mary looked up from the street and saw the two of them. They both smiled and waved and she forced a response. With a deep breath she opened the door and headed up the stairs.
"Hello Mrs. Watson." John said, smiling. He gave her a light kiss, noticing her tension.
"John." She said, she turned to the detective, "Sherlock."
"Mary... What can we help you with?"
AND IT BEGINS! Let me know what you thiiiiiiink!