"I see you have noticed the name change." Guinevere drawled making sure her accent was thick.
"Guinevere Sokolov. Looking back the name never suited you. I should have known that despite your accent you had no real ties to Russia." Moriarty said buttoning up his shirt. He picked up the glass and sat down on a chair. Guinevere sat across him on a sofa.
He hadn't changed at all since they last saw each other. He had the same black eyes that always had the evil glint to them. His dark hair was still perfectly gelled into place. His suit was black and tailored especially for him a trait Guinevere always loved about him. He had quite the eye for fashion. He was exactly the same except for the big scar scrawled across his chest. She smiled, thinking of the night she gave it to him, the last time she ever saw him.
"But Guinevere Holmes that is quite the name it's also very interesting that you brought it up. I just recently met a Holmes myself." He said adjusting his collar with a smug look.
"Ah yes my father. My contacts told me that you two had met." Guinevere said with an unwavering look at the man.
He looked down at his ring and smiled. He knew he had hit a bit of a pressure point with her. Moriarty had many plans for the elder Holmes, but right now his main focus was on the girl that had eluded him for the past year.
"How did you do it? How did you fake your death?" He said quietly after a long pause.
He face lit up into a devilish smirk.
"To die is an art. It is a beautiful skill. If properly done right, dying can be magical, and a magician never reveals his secrets." She said batting her long eyelashes at him.
He breathed out a sigh of annoyance.
"I saw you go into your home. They lit it on fire. Everyone else came out but you."
"I was most offended that you tried to burn me out. Don't you know that I don't get burned, but I do have a nasty habit of setting others ablaze? Did you actually listen to me when I said this would be forever or it would go down in flames? The scar on your chest proves that you and I are forever. You are one of the lucky ones, the few that passed the test. You and I are forever, but that wasn't enough for you."
"Your whole house burned to the ground. How did you GET OUT!" He said standing up and screaming.
She sat there quietly and just cocked her head at the furious man in front of her.
"It burns you to not know how I did it. You hate not having an answer. Well I will give you only one answer you will ever need. The only way I am dying is by my own hand." She said very seriously.
He let out a very long frustrated breath followed by a long silence. Moriarty walked over and joined her on the sofa. She didn't move and kept an unwavering eye on him as he rested his arm around her on the sofa.
"I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead for over a year." He said very seriously.
"You were the one who ordered a hit on me. You were the one who wanted me dead. You were the one parked out in a car as you watched my house get set on fire. You might not have been holding the matches but you were the one that tried to kill me. Why are you so reminiscent of your time spent in Russia?" Guinevere replied slowly gauging his reaction.
"I was angry with you. In my defense you had just tattooed your name across my chest, quite literally. Of course I was going to try and kill you, you do remember who I am don't you?" He said as if calling a hit against the woman he loved was the most obvious thing in the world.
"I was hoping you would get out. I was hoping you would come out and see who you were dealing with. I was hoping you would see what all I was capable and see all that I could do. But you never came out and that's when I realized that I had actually killed you." Moriarty said more intimately.
Guinevere didn't respond and instead sipped her wine looking at him through her lashes. She set her glass down and flicked a stray hair back into her intricate up do.
"Like I said you can't kill me that easily. You think I didn't know what you were capable of? Why do you think I chose you? Out of all of the men in that room, all of the rich and powerful men in that room why do you think I choose you? You weren't as rich as some of the older men and you weren't as handsome as the younger. You weren't like the other men I normally play. I choose you because I knew what you were capable of." Guinevere said honestly staring deep into his eyes.
She took his hand in hers and cracked a small sly smile.
"I looked into you later that night and I fell in love with you. You were dangerous. You had killed many people and didn't feel burdened by their deaths. You were a genius. You were easily the smartest man in the room. You were a wild card and I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. You were like me. I knew what you were capable of and that's why I loved you." She said her eyes never wavering from his.
"Then why didn't you come back? You 'escaped' and then you left. Why didn't you come back?" He said standing up and looking out of the window at the starry night.
Guinevere rolled her eyes and huffed angrily that her little confession of love didn't work on him. She got up and stood behind him, hoping to try again.
"I couldn't stay. I never stay. The men that don't make the cut get burned. The men that pass the test never forget me." She said, putting his hand over his chest where her initials were carved into his chest.
"But I never stay. I can't stay I have to move on. It's the way I play things." She said with a shrug removing her hand.
"And it's all a game to you isn't it." He said angrily turning around to face her.
"Love is a game." She said, putting her hand up to his face cupping his cheek.
He closed his eyes and let out a sigh removing her hand.
"What happened in Russia is history. I do not dwell on the past. You always said hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Hell has not met me. Please join me. You and I together can do great things." He said, leaning over here his evil eyes staring into her soul.
Guinevere just laughed at him turning around to pour herself another glass of wine.
"Things are different now Jim." She said with a smile and a shrug of her shoulder.
"You might have bested me back in Russia, but we are in London now. This is my city. I can get you to do what I need. We wouldn't want daddy to get hurt would we." He said the last part slowly.
He was waiting for a reaction from her. He wanted to make her riled up. He wanted to find her pressure points.
She simply set her glass down and looked him square in the eyes with a small smile completely unfazed.
"Leave Sherlock out of this. He has nothing to do with you and I." She said with a wave of her hand.
"What would happen if I was to kill your father the same way I was to kill you." He said unimpressed by her reactions.
"Go ahead and try your worst. My father was never there for me. He means nothing to me." She said, raising her glass to him.
"I intend to do my worst." He came up to her and took her hand in his.
"I will be seeing you around Guinevere. Until then." With that, he walked out of the room, leaving Guinevere by herself to smile.
The fly was falling into the spider web perfectly.
And Guinevere couldn't wait to make her kill.