"You dropped your phone, Evelyn." Molly said kindly, placing the phone gently upon the table.
"I, uh, thanks."
Sherlock, who noticed everything, had for once, said nothing. He had the information he needed and there was no point in asking about what wasn't necessary. The young woman before her was a curiosity, yes, but in the same way a trinket or a puzzle was.
Nothing actually worth his time. She bundled up her folders and nodded curtly to the gathering of people. "Nice to meet you all." She said, avoiding eye contact with Anderson who would have to find coffee with someone else (Donovan by the looks of things).
She strode quickly and descended the stairs, deciding the lift would take too long. She had to get back to her home, to her flat and get rid of the picture, it was too incriminating, not only to himself but to her. "Taxi!" She called, breathless.
The black cab pulled up and barely rode down it's window but due to her rush, she didn't notice and instead of saying a witty comeback, it was just "Mersdon Road, number 81, please." that she managed to say. When there was no reply, she half expected Uncle Jim to be sitting in the seat, grinning and baring his feline, white teeth. But, no, it wasn't and soon enough a strong londoner accent broke the silence. "Sure, M'love. What's the hurry?"
"My landlord texted me, saying they might be a gas leak." She lied smoothly. "Ah, that's London for you. Ridiculously priced and it turns out it might blow up at any moment. Still, I wouldn't have it any other way. Where are you from originally? Dublin?"
"No, I was there for a few years when I was a kid. I'm from Kent originally." While cab talk wasn't Evelyn's specialty, she didn't find it too uncomfortable, surprisingly. "Hot down there. Easy to get burnt, huh?"
"Sunburn? Yeah, I guess."
He let out a muffled sound, which sounded not too dissimilar to a hyena.
"Don't mind me, love. Just gigglin' about a joke from work."
She nodded, although she didnt really understand. "We're..." she felt herself unable to speak, no words come form in her mouth and nor could her brain think of any. Grey smoke filled the air, polluting the blue sky and a bright red firetruck... no, two were parked by her flat, sprayijg the surrounding areas in water. Maybe, somehow her flat didn't get burnt, maybe there is a God and she does have some luck. She squinted and just about made out a black and grey pile of rubble. Bits of furniture burnt and cremated, now walls or ceiling in place.
It was completely burnt to the ground.
Despite herself and her hatred for her flat, it had everything in that she loved, memories, photos, all destroyed and never to return to her. She let out a small sob, the cab driver turned around unsympathetically. "Old habits from kent die hard, huh." He joked. "Don't." She muttered, staring at the flaming rubble that she once depended upon. "End the line, Evelyn." He said suddenly, sounding much more stern and almost frightening. She could feel herself start to sweat. How did he know her name? "E-excuse me?"
"Out."
She blinked and done what she was told, still in shock from the scene going on in front of her. The cab immediately took off, contributing to the already sizable amount of dust surrounding her. The number plate was personalised and instead of a standard code it read: 1Moran.
She stared at his helplessly as it went off into the distance.
She didn't know what to do so she sat on a bit of rubble and thought. She thought hard.
She didn't know why she was here, she didn't know why this happened but she knew it wasn't a coincidence. The question was why. Why would someone do that to her? She was a perfectly innocent, young woman... well, strictly speaking, that's not true. Her... involvement with Uncle Jim may leave her in the way of certain people. But he was clever so that would never happen.
Most likely.
"Confused?" A deep, irish voice asked. It was monotonous yet had an almost playful cadence.
She looked up and saw him. He was there.
An average sized man, slimly built in a dark blue, westwood suit. White, pale skin almost sickly in colour, contrasting to his dark hair and dark eyes. He had a smirk on his thin lips. She tried to speak but her breath hitched in her throat.
She felt like she was going to be sick.
"How nice go see you, my little Evie. Must have at least been... what, 3 years? You're looking healthy." He paused for a second, "That's a lie, actually, you look quite ill." His smirk grew wider. "I wanted to make sure you didn't forget little old me. You seemed too immersed in your new life, forgetting all the sacrifices I've made for you." He looked down at his nails, carefully looking for any dirt trapped beneath them. "My little flower, you've grown up so fast. Just don't go forgetting your place."
Evelyn merely cleared her throat in response.
"No words? That is surprising."
And then, in a ludicrously spontaneous way, Evelyn found her voice. "I have plenty." She mumbled.
Jim's smirk grew into a seemingly genuine wide smile. "By all means."
She regarded him with her dark eyes. "You... you come here, follow me here... to burn down the few possessions I have. For what? To remind me that you exist?"
"Yes, obviously."
"You know I could never forget you."
His hand rolled theatrically in the air before placing itself onto his chest. "Oh, I think I felt a twang of sentiment. You're right, by the way. Think of this also as a warning. A more memorable post it note."
Her sweaty fists clenched, raring to break through the barrier of perfectness that surrounded Jim. She didn't, however. She just stood there instead.
"Warning for what?"
"Think about it, dear. Use that brain I trained up so well."
"You... want me to stay away from that man, that Sherlock man,"
A laugh filled the heavy air. "Of course not, no. I want you to get closer to him. I want you to find out things."
"Things?"
"Valuable, useful things. I want you to be my man on the inside."
She thought about it for a moment. What was the use in refusing? He had just burnt down almost everything she loves, even everything she has at all.
She had no choice seeing as burning alive didn't really count.
"I... okay. How do I get closer to him?"
"Simple! It's sooo simple! God, you have lost your touch. Right, you go to their flat and ask to rent the apartment downstairs, seeing as a tragic arson occured to you. The landlady just couldn't refuse you so you're let in. You need to think again."
A brief sigh left her mouth. "Does this mean... It'll be how it was before?"
"Well, you are going to be my favourite, yes."
"I see. I love you, Uncle Jim."
And then, the sickly sadistic and twisted smirk Evelyn knew so well appeared. But she ignored it's meanings, Jim Moriarty was her God, her friend, her family and her everything. So much so, the twisted smirk became a loving smile.
"I love you too, Evie."
_
This chapter sounds so kinky js
sorry i took so long but i think it came out quite well ngl
review or smth idk