Author's note: MW Skids out with her notebook* Hey, I am alive! After some grumblings about how did Moriarty and Erika meet before Stranger than You Dreamt it, here is the few times that Erika foiled Moriarty and how the Phantom started to become a thorn in Moriarty's side before Holmes and Lestrade went to Paris. Originally Erika had a appeared in another story. Sadly it was deleted. and left my readers in a lurch. So here is my solution. Again I own nothing but Miss Erika Noir. On with the Show...

Out Tonight

The First Date

New London, 2105

The museum was dark. The only light source was the glow of the lummes in the exhibit cases and the bars that guard them from unwanted intruders. After the theft of the Musgrave Sword two years earlier, there was an increase in the bars that crisscrossed the room. In one peculiar room was one very valuable exhibit, which had more bars than usual.

In a glass case sat a bundle of music sheets. They were laid out to show their notes proudly to museum observers. Together, these notes made up a beautiful and strange opera. In fact, this was the only copy of the opera in existence. The red ink that danced across the pages was symbolic of not only its tragedy but also the pride its composer took in its creation. Such a piece of art was not only treasured but coveted.

The guard was impatient that night. He didn't know why, but this night was going to be different from all the others. There was a tension in the air. It bothered him and he couldn't wait until his relief showed up. Scanning the monitors again, nothing was out of place. Why was he so nervous then? He wanted to go home to his family and not be near the museum.

He nearly flew out of his skin when the door to the room opened. Jumping up, he turned to face who had entered. His body relaxed when his relief entered the room. The guard shook off the last of his anxiety and walked up to the taller guard. His relief just smirked at him and strode into the room as if he owned the place.

"Nothing unusual, Jimmy." The guard stated as he tried to smile back.

"Excellent." Jimmy remarked as he held his hands out for the keys. "I'll take over from here, Larry."

Larry nodded as he removed the keys from his belt. Jimmy bothered him since the guard joined the night watch team. Larry wasn't sure why, but Jimmy reminded him of huge and deadly predator. Maybe it was his sharp steel gray eyes or more muscular frame. Perhaps it was his attitude. Larry didn't want to dwell on it as he handed to keys to Jimmy. Jimmy accepted the keys and continued to stare at Larry. It was unnerving to Larry who decided to beat a hasty retreat out of the room.

Jimmy smirked, vastly amused by the whole scene. Turning he watched the monitors as Larry exited the building on one of them. Excellent, he was finally alone. Gripping the keys in his hand, he tore off his security hat and flung it into a nearby chair. Looking at the name tag on his uniform, he gave a sneer. He despised the nick name of Jimmy. It was so undignified for the Napoleon of Crime. He only used it to get into the night watch.

Turning on the communicator he snuck in, Moriarty hooked it to his ear. Soon the buzz of the police frequency was in his ear. He listened for a moment and grinned. It seemed the Inspector was off for the night. That was perfect since it meant that Holmes wasn't going to be immediately showing up when he was done. Grinning evilly, he took a seat at the main console and began to slowly and meticulously bring down the museum security system without tipping off New Scotland Yard.

After an hour, Moriarty was set to pilfer his prize. Checking the time, he had at least another hour until he needed to check in with New Scotland Yard as Jimmy to inform them that everything was fine. He would take what he was after, reactivate the system, and no one would know until the morning watch arrived. Moriarty would be gone and the fictional Jimmy would be the suspect. At least until Holmes figured it out. By then it would be too late.

Satisfied with his handiwork, Moriarty looked at the monitor that displayed the room with the prized opera in it. It was nice of the Louvre to send him the only copy of Don Juan Triumphante. He never really cared for it until a mysterious bid began to float around for the opera. Normally Moriarty wouldn't bother but a challenge was also being sent around. An upstart in the Parisian Underworld called the Phantom dared to suggest that Moriarty couldn't steal it, even with it being his own backyard. After all, he was constantly being foiled by the Great Detective. Moriarty snarled at the thought. He would shut up this "Phantom" and claim the money being offered up.

Suddenly there was a bit of movement in the scene. Moriarty paused and watched even more closely as a figure in black moved into the camera's sight. Apparently he had competition for the prize. Moriarty smirked as he watched the figure paused, and then slowly approach the opera. He couldn't wait to have some fun with them. Still smirking, he reactivated the lummie bars around the would-be thief. That stopped them in their tracks. Chuckling, Moriarty decided to confront his visitor. Getting up, he walked from the security room and to the exhibit.

Moriarty paused in the doorway ready to taunt his prisoner. However, he was in for a surprise. Standing in the doorway, he blinked as the figure worked their way through the lummie bars. While they were no longer attached to the alarm system, the figure didn't know that. Instead, the lithe body bent and moved fluidly past the lasers. Moriarty could easily see the curves and realized that it was a woman in that outfit. A very well toned and graceful one at that. Resting a hand on his hip, he decided to watch his guest retrieve the composition. When she was done, he would relieve her of it.

She moved silently. Moriarty couldn't help but admire how she easily moved without a sound. It was a dance without music. Riveting with its motions, Moriarty could easily imagine an orchestra playing along. In his mind he could hear the finale as she exited the lummie maze without disrupting a single beam. The burglar didn't pause as she strolled up to the case and quickly set to work. Moriarty silently strolled to get a better view as the burglar slowly set about extracting the musical sheets. As her deft fingers quickly worked through the security codes and glass, Moriarty felt his admiration for the woman grow. Unlike Holmes, he always had a healthy respect for females. They could be quite useful on the occasion and even more ruthless than most men.

Moriarty drew himself up as the musical sheets were extracted from their prison and into the woman's satchel that was tightly secured to her side. It was time to make his appearance. His clapping echoed loudly in the silent museum. The woman's head snapped towards him. Moriarty caught the flash of blue in her eyes as she assessed him. Incredibly, she turned away as if to dismiss him. The Napoleon of Crime bristled at the nerve. Striding towards her, he watched as she proceeded to reweave her away through the beams. Soon he was few feet from her when she drew an ebony cane from thin air.

"You think that will stop me?" Moriarty stated.

The figure regarded him with amused eyes before a light voice answered, "Only if you are smart, monsieur."

Moriarty recognized the french accent to her voice. It wasn't the more guttural dialect like Fenwick. It was more musical, more refine like some of his French crime family's tried to perfect. Intrigued, Moriarty drew his ionser to establish the upper hand.

"I tend to pride myself on that point. Now, I will take the music sheets from you, my dear." Moriarty smirked wicked as he trained the ionser on her. The woman merely tilted her head to the side as she regarded the ionser. It was more mere curiosity than anything. Moriarty merely smirked with his hand out stretched. After he retrieved the sheets, he might learn more about her. Clearing his throat, he regained her attention, "The sheets, my dear."

"Non. I believe I shall keep them. "

"Come, come. I would hate to harm you. After all, it wouldn't be very sporting of me. However if you refuse…." Moriarty hinted as he stepped closer. His grin became predatory. His mind began to calculate the best way to subdue the woman. He really didn't want to hurt her. In fact, he would like to recruit her. She seemed intelligent and quite resourceful.

"I would be more worried about yourself, monsieur." the woman stated with an amused tone, "But I really must be going, unless you are asking me out."

Moriarty merely arched an eyebrow, "Interesting. But I am afraid, I don't have the time. Perhaps later."

"Perhaps."

"The sheets, chere."

The woman merely regarded him for a moment. Moriarty decided to make his point. Setting the ionser to stun, he took aim and fired. He barely blinked as the woman moved the cane sending the blast back. Moriarty dove to the side as the blast barreled past. Growling, he looked up to see the woman running toward a dangling rope. Soon he was on his feet and giving chase. He ignored the buzz for the police frequency as he focused on his new prey.

After a quick climb, Moriarty entered the cool night air. Looking around, he caught a glimpse of a figure running along the rooftop. He hurried in pursuit of the mysterious woman. The chase continued from the roofs of New London down to the streets. The woman was agile and quick. Moriarty was no slouch himself. He was easily able to keep up with her. In his ear, he could hear the dispatch from New Scotland Yard to check out the museum, that the guard had failed to check in. Moriarty shrugged it off. Ah the best laid plans of mice and men.

He grinned as the woman leap over a fence to Hyde Park. Knowing a shortcut, Moriarty dodged down an alley. Quickly, he jumped a low gate entering Hyde Park. Smirking, he could hear the light footsteps of the woman running towards him. Ducking behind a tree, he waited for her to get in range. It was doubtful that the Yardies would look here for them. For now, he had the woman alone and to himself until the Yardies were done at the museum.

The woman soon hurried down the path. Moriarty peeked out from behind the tree. The mask was gone from her face. Her jumpsuit looked more like a dress with leggings. Moriarty almost doubted it was the same woman until he saw the cane in her hand and the satchel at her side. Grinning, Moriarty had to applaud how quickly she could change her appearance. It was another skill he could admire in her. Definitely an excellent addition to his organization.

Before she could get too far ahead of him, Moriarty grabbed her arm and yanked her off the path. Despite her struggling, Moriarty soon had her pinned to the tree with a tight grip on her hand with the cane. He enjoyed watching the look of surprise flash through her eyes. Grinning, Moriarty twisted her arm to force her to drop the cane. The Woman gave him a slow smile as the cane clattered to the ground.

"That was quite a merry chase, my dear." Moriarty stated firmly as he pressed his body against her to ensure she couldn't escape, "Sadly, it must end. The sheets?"

"Why should I give them to you?" the woman cooed, "I have my orders, chere. It must be worth my while to give them up."

Moriarty leaned in close, "As tempting as that is, I am not in the mood."

"Pity," The woman purred as she relaxed against the tree and looked him over, "And quite a waste, Monsieur."

Moriarty nearly rolled his eyes at that. He was use to the women in the Underworld throwing themselves at him. It was quite tiring. However, he could use a skilled cat burglar like this young woman. He shouldn't completely offend her yet. Instead of responding, he freed her one arm and reached for the satchel at her side. His hand closed around the bag when the woman did something he didn't expect.

Her newly freed hand gripped his security tie and yanked it hard. The tie tightened, limiting the flow of air to his lungs. Moriarty jerked his head to loosen the tie. However it tightened a bit more. Letting go of the tree, he yanked the loop trying to free up his wind pipe and begin to breathe a bit easier. The woman shoved herself against him wrapping both arms around his neck. The change in weight and momentum sent the two criminal crashing to the ground. Moriarty grunted as his head hit the grass. Slowly he opened his eyes to see the woman on his chest with her face close to his.

"Tut, tut, Monsieur. If you want my prize you must pay my price. After all, The Phantom will not be pleased if I fail." she grinned slyly.

"The Phantom?" Moriarty grunted as his mind raced to figure out how he can change the situation to his advantage.

"Oui." The woman purred before she turned towards the sounds of sirens, "I don't have long but I know my price."

Before Moriarty could react, the woman pressed her lips to his. It was a quick kiss but somehow it was enough to jolt Moriarty. He blinked as she pulled away to smile at him. He wondered who she was and how the Phantom found her.

"Until we meet again, chere." She remarked before jumping up and disappearing into the night.

The sound of sirens grew louder. Realizing he needed to move and quickly, Moriarty jumped up. To realize he still held the satchel. Obviously the woman decided to cut her losses and run. Feeling triumphant in more ways than one, Moriarty hurried from the park and disappeared back into the underground.

Moriarty slowed his pace. He was safely within his criminal kingdom. Licking his lip, he could still taste the young woman's kiss. So she was allied with the Parisian upstart. It shouldn't be too hard to get a name. For the time being he would content himself with the prize in the bag. Intent on inspecting the state of the opera, Moriarty opened the satchel.

To his surprise there was no bundled music sheets. Merely, a battered copy of Tolkien and a crème card. Moriarty swallowed his initial anger. He had been tricked. No wonder the young woman left the satchel with him. She had succeeded in distracting him from noticing the switch. He was ready to throw the satchel into the sewer water when writing on the card caught his eye.

Reaching in, he pulled out the card. On one side was a picture of a mask and rose. It was as if it had been painted by hand. Moriarty mentally noted to track down the maker of stationary. Flipping it over, he smirked at the writing. He had to admire the woman's cheek. So she saw their little chase as a date did she? He would have to surprise her and find out how she knew he was there. That would be an interesting time. Tucking the card into his breast pocket, Moriarty strolled towards his hide out. He was looking forward to getting his answers.

The Second Date is on it's way!