"Dad?" a short young woman with deep brown eyes leaned against the doorframe of her bedroom. "Moran told me what you were planning." It wasn't a question. It was a fact.

Jim Moriarty's soulless eyes fixed themselves upon those of his daughter. They were an exact copy of his; tired and without life or laughter. She truly was his daughter.

"Then you'll know that I have to finish the game. One way or another, this has to end. I'm not sorry," he replied, hoping to get some kind of reaction put of the girl- that she would at last show that she wasn't completely like him.

"I know. I already knew. I'll go find my gun," of course, he had tainted her after all. His daughter was as cruel and callous as he was and he hated that fact.

Stephanie Moriarty retreated into her room, finally letting her tears fall. She couldn't let anyone else see her weakness. She had been raised on the fact that any weakness should only be a strength and affection and love for her father was certainly not a strength. Wiping her eyes, she picked up her case which she knew would contain the rifle that her father had given her for her tenth birthday. At 16 years of age, she knew how to handle any weapon that could come to mind. Her father's right hand man had seen to that. Over her short life, Sebastian Moran had become the closest thing she had to a friend.

Strong arms suddenly wrapped around her and the familiar scent of alcohol and cigarettes filled her nose.

"Y'alright kiddo?" talk of the devil, Sebastian kissed the top of her head.

"Yeah, you ready?" Stephanie turned to face her friend smiling weakly, hoping he wouldn't notice the tear trails running down her face.

"Nah you ain't" Moran gently stroked her cheek with his calloused thumb "Y'ain't alright Steph, I know you ain't".

Stephanie sighed, of course she wasn't alright; her dad was about to kill himself all because he was bored and that stupid Holmes man had interested him.

"I'll be fine" she replied, swatting the snipers hand away. "Now we move. Are you driving?"

Moran watched the girl walk away with a sigh. He loved her dearly, more than was professional and certainly more than he would ever care to admit. Stephanie Moriarty was beautiful in his eyes. The scars that decorated her body from the years of fieldwork Jim had made her do gave her a mystical look. Her cold manner concealed a loving; caring heart automatically drew every man she came across to her. She was the perfect human being in her eyes and he would have gladly taken her as a lover if not for her father's protective manner and the worryingly large age gap. Sebastian had been in his early twenties when his boss had ordered him to be present at the birth of his daughter while he was away on a business trip. This had meant that the sniper was the first face the daughter had seen. And the last face the mother had ever laid eyes on...

Stephanie stood waiting with her father by the Jeep that would carry the trio to their destinations. Once Holmes had sent the text, it had been immediate action stations. Another employee had already been dispatched to 221B and all that remained was for the two killers to drop off their father/employer at St Bart's and travel to their agreed locations. From there they would do their job if Holmes failed to play along.

Moran didn't say a word as the three of them climbed into the car and drove off. He just sat in the driver's seat with one hand on the wheel and the other gripping onto Stephanie's hand. She was grateful for her friend and occasionally gave him a sad smile, thanking him silently for his support. Jim, on the other hand, barked all the way through the journey. He constantly reminded his fellow passengers of the fact that his daughter would be the one who would take over the company if anything were to happen today. Of course his favourite sniper would have to serve her as well as he had served him.

Saint Bartholomew's Hospital stood above the trio of criminals. An Irishman in a crisp suit, a six foot seven giant who seemed to have a permanent snarl oh his face and a young, deep brown haired girl stood outside the building.

"Ya dun' 'ave ta do this, Jim. Le's jus' go 'ome, yeah? Le's jus' go 'ome," the sniper pleaded. He had long been forbidden from showing any kind of weakness or affection but right now he didn't care. He didn't care that he was irritating his boss. He didn't care that he was crossing the line. He didn't care that he was disobeying orders. All he cared about was protecting the Moriarty family, no matter what the cost.

"I agree with Seb, you don't have to do this Dad. We can just go home now." Tears were starting to fall down the girl's cheeks now. She couldn't control it at all any longer. She was being weak but it didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was the fact that she had to stop her father and make him come home.

Jim stood there and watched his only child break down into tears. He said nothing but drew her into a hug, gently stroking her hair and hushing her. Sebastian caught his eye and all Jim did in response was shake his head. There was no point, he was still going to go through with this and nothing was going to stop him. He needed them to understand that. He was so very changeable but he had his heart set on this. Today would be the one day that he didn't change his mind.

The gunshot sounded loud and clear and Sherlock Holmes fell. Moriarty and Holmes were dead.

Moriarty and Moran met on the rooftop to observe the body there. A cold calm seemed to fall over the girl, almost as though her father had discarded his old body and entered that of his daughter's.

"Carry him out, Moran. We need to take him home. We can see to the preparations there." Shocked by the sudden change in his new boss, Sebastian immediately followed her orders. She now reminded him of Jim. And it terrified him.

Neither of them spoke on the way home. The body was laid across the back seats so the two living criminals were left sitting next to each other in the front once again. The occasional glance at the living Moriarty confirmed to Moran that she was not as calm as she seemed. A slight tremble in her left hand and the constant swallowing told him she was fighting back tears. She was being strong, just like her father would have been. Later on, she would become angry and destructive until she became so exhausted she would be forced to let grief overcome her and she would finally cry.

He was right. Exactly thirty eight minutes after they had arrived home, the sound of gunfire and smashing glass echoed around the house. Stephanie was angry and everyone knew to stay out of the way when a Moriarty was angry. Some poor sod had made the mistake of crossing her path and now he was on his way to the morgue. Or rather what was left of him was.

This anger continued for a week, during which the girl hadn't slept and she barely ate or had anything to drink. The number of living employees in the house was fast falling and, if this continued for much longer, there would be nobody left.

After seven days, the screams and crashes stopped. Finally there was silence in the house. Moran judged that it was finally safe to approach his boss. She wasn't in her rooms. Nobody could find her.

Eventually Sebastian ventured into the one set of rooms that hadn't been disturbed in just over a week. Sure enough, curled up on Jim Moriarty's bed, crying into the pillows, was his daughter. She hadn't heard him enter but no one heard Sebastian Moran if he didn't want to be heard.

"Kiddo? Ya need t'sleep now. Common" he laid next to the girl, gently stroking her hair. She said nothing in response, she just buried her head into his chest and began ton wail.

Having fought in many wars and seen so many deaths, Sebastian had thought that he had been subjected to all the pains possible in life. He was wrong. Hearing his friend's anguish and seeing her broken in his arms was the worst thing he could ever be forced to endure.

"Why, Sebby?" she whispered to him. "Why did he do it?"

"I dun' know, Steph. I jus' dun' know..." he soothingly stroked her back. "But ya need t'sleep. It'll 'elp, I promise"

He didn't get a reply but the small sound of snores confirmed that she was finally getting some rest. They couldn't stay in these rooms. As much as he didn't want to disturb Steph, it pained him to be in there. Careful not to wake his precious charge, he lifted her and carried her back to her own rooms. Instead of leaving her, he laid down next to her and pulled the covers over them both, keeping his arms loosely around her.

"I love ya, Steph," he whispered in her ear before joining her in her deep and troubled slumber.