A/N So I thought I would have a crack at a Sherlock fiction. I don't plan on making this a Johnlock at the moment but that may change. So enjoy and please tell me what you think :)
JMS
John sat in front of the fireplace of 221b Baker Street and watched as Sherlock paced back and forth in front of him. He no longer lived here of course, but between escaping a hormonal wife and solving cases with Sherlock, he hardly ever left.
It had been two weeks since Moriaty's face had appeared throughout London, and since then it had happened three more times. No one could figure out how it was happening and the police couldn't even trace the signal. The perfect case for Sherlock Holmes.
"Eliminate"
John looked up from the fireplace, Sherlock had been muttering that word over and over again for the past hour.
"What are you talking about?" John finally asked.
Sherlock didn't answer, but instead continued pacing. About five minutes later he looked up at John.
"Did you say something?" He asked
John rolled his eyes. Typical.
"I said what are you talking about?"
Sherlock looked confused.
"Talking? I wasn't talking, when was I talking? Was I doing it again?"
Now it was John's turn to be confused.
"Doing what?"
"Never mind. What did I say?"
"You keep repeating eliminate over and over again" John replied. "You've been doing it for the past hour now."
Sherlock stopped pacing and went over to the wall where he had stuck all his theories on the case. There was writing over all the pages and pictures. For the past two weeks all Sherlock had done was pace the room, play his violin or stare at this wall.
"I'm trying to eliminate all the impossible or least likely theories. I keep telling myself that it's impossible for Moriaty to be alive because I saw him die. Then again," he said clearly seeing the hole in that theory, "you also saw me die and I'm clearly not dead"
John cringed at the memory and for a second something flittered across Sherlock's face. Was that guilt? It was replaced a second later by his expressionless mask, and John convinced himself it had been his imagination.
"So what do we do then?" John asked. "We have no leads and all our theories are less likely than the last?"
As John said this, Sherlock's phone buzzed. He picked it up and John knew immediately that something was wrong.
"No, it can't be." Sherlock said
"What is it?" He asked Sherlock who now looked deep in thought. Sherlock didn't sound worried exactly, more like he genuinely didn't believe what he has just read.
He handed the phone over to John wordlessly.
SH
Did you miss me?
JMS
John could feel his stomach sinking. If Moriaty really was back...
But no. He read the text again and he noticed what he hadn't the first time.
"Who's JMS?" He asked Sherlock
"If JMS stands for what I think it does than we may end up wishing that Moriaty really was behind this all."
"Who is he then?" John asked.
"About five years ago there where two identical cases of serial murder almost back to back. The first time five people where killed, all in similar situations, eventually Lestrade and I managed to track down and arrest the man responsible with help from a bartender from New Jersey and a woman with one arm."
John gave sherlock a quizzical look.
"Long story."
"So then that's who he is?" John asked, confused. Why was Sherlock so worried about a murderer?
"No." sherlock answered offering no further explanation.
"Then what does that have to do with the message?"
"Use your brain John, what happened next?" Sherlock said, clearly frustrated at John. "Think."
"How am I supposed to know?" John asked feeling slightly defensive.
"It was all over the news. Everyone in London heard about it."
"I wasn't in London" John replied so quietly that Sherlock almost missed it.
The guilty look flittered across Sherlock's face again. There was an awkward silence between the two of them until Sherlock continued with his explanation.
"Well once we had arrested him we thought the case was closed, but a week later the murders started again. For a while there we thought we had arrested the wrong man. Until I realized there was one difference between these murders and the original murders. Wherever we found a body there was always the letters CC marked at the crime scene."
"What does CC stand for?"
"Copy cat. Quite an unoriginal nickname if you ask me, but we thought CC was his initials until one of the crime scenes was marked Copy cat instead. We eventually found out his real name though. Jeffery Michael Sanderson, the criminal copy cat. Once we figured who was behind it the murders stopped and we never heard anything about him again. We went through a couple of other cases where the crimes had continued after the perpetrator had been arrested and all the photos from the crime scenes had CC somewhere."
"So what's he doing now? Why is he using Moriaty's picture?"
"I think, perhaps, we may have a problem on our hands." Sherlock replied, almost excited.
"I still don't follow." John said feeling rather stupid.
"Well think about it John. A man that copies the patterns of other criminals, now broadcasting Moriaty's face all over London."
"So we have a Moriaty impersonator on the loose?" John asked, stomach sinking.
"Not just that John, who was Moriaty's main target?"
"You." John answered, realization sinking in.
"And in turn you John. I'm sorry. But I swear I'm not going to stop until this man is behind bars." Sherlock said.
That was the most sincere thing John had ever heard sherlock say and was slightly taken aback.
There was silence in the room until Sherlock's phone, that John was still holding, buzzed.
John read the message and his heart nearly stopped.
JW
So the two of you have figured me out? About time.
CC
Sherlock saw the look on John's face and moved behind him to read the message.
"He must have bugged the apartment to listen to our conversation." Sherlock said, not seeming overly bothered by it.
John shook his head. Sherlock hadn't seen it. That was a first.
"Look at the top of the message." John said unable to pull his eyes away.
Sherlock looked back at the message and John finally looked up. He saw the realization cross Sherlock's face and knew he'd seen it too.
"He must have cameras in here or someone watching the apartment." Sherlock said, already looking around for them.
Suddenly his head snapped up and he bolted out the apartment door and down the stairs.
John was just about to follow when Sherlock's phone buzzed again. He looked down and the message he read made his blood run cold.
JW
How's Mary?
CC