AUT HOR'S NOT:
YOU WIL C XOXOXOXOXOX
Chapter 7
"Right. Does someone want to tell me what's going on?" Lestrade glanced at Sherlock with his usual perplexed, stern frown.
John, dabbing at his head wound with a cloth, made an awkward movement to explain. "Err. Yes. Well. The woman that you just took away was-…"
"Benedicta Khan Crieff Islington," Sherlock said automatically. "Not her real name, as any person with a half a brain cell could have guessed. Her actual identity is Pavlina Montague."
Lestrade raised an eyebrow, not hiding his surprise. "Really? Montague?"
"The infamous Czech assassin. Disappeared off the radar completely two years ago, and most assumed she was dead. Obviously not. Clearly people had not considered the alternative answer for her sudden disappearance, being that she simply stopped killing. She had fallen into someone's favour and now had enough money to live cleanly for a while."
"So then, Montague fell out of their favour, and ended up turning back to this?"
"The opposite. Montague fell so deeply into this significant person's favour, that they trusted them to carry out one last critical and very personal assassination for them. One that would set Montague up for life if she succeeded-…"
"To kill Molly Hooper." John chimed in, stealing Sherlock's thunder.
Lestrade quirked up an eyebrow. "And that makes sense… how?"
Sherlock rolled his eyes and unleashed a weary sigh. "My God. Lestrade, think it through. When has Molly come dangerously close to anyone who loves a good old fashioned assassination? A twisted thirst for murder? Any thoughts?"
"You?"
"Jim Moriarty." John corrected, before Sherlock threw back an insult.
Lestrade nodded. "Right. Moriarty."
Whilst they spoke, Montague was, very cautiously, being taken away by police. However it wasn't long until the infamous Czech assassin had recovered enough consciousness to begin shouting: "NOOOOOUGH DAT WAS DOWN FAL! Sad face! Sad face! Colon O! SHERLY I FOUGHT WE WER GON BE SEXXXXXY TOGETHER! COLON O!"
She was ignored. Sherlock continued to explain. "Molly Hooper had been close to Moriarty. And on a worryingly personal level. It must have dawned on Moriarty not too long ago that this could possibly turn out to be dangerous over time."
John, still a little dizzy, sat on the curb. "So he told Montague that this would be her last job. Befriend Molly, and then kill her."
In the following pause, the flashing sirens of the surrounding police cars bathed the restaurant and the three men standing outside it in a continuous brash blue light. Whilst, on the other side of the street, Montague continued to hurl abuse: "FuuuUUUuck you angry sad face! I WOOD HAVE GOTN AWAY WITH IT TO IF IT WERNT FOR U...kds... but no dog... sad face...! i only wantd to rite proper sotry!"
"Lucky you caught her in time then, Sherlock," Lestrade said, trying to ignore her. "Interpol have been trying for years. And she's always been able to outdo them. Somehow. Go on, then. You're dying to tell me how you did it. I'm all ears."
Sherlock's expression did not change, but John could see his pale eyes glimmer with gratification as he happily recalled his process. "Molly told me she had a new flatmate. After showing me a picture of her, I realised that I recognised the face before. Apart from the Botox, the black clothing and alarming amounts of fake tan, it was clear that she was the same woman from Montague's Interpol files. As I feared. What had already started suspiciously was proving to take a much darker turn-…"
"'What had already started suspiciously'?" John repeated. "You never expected someone would like Molly enough to want share a flat with her, apart from if they were an international assassin?"
He was ignored by Sherlock. "However, out of the very little that the authorities know about Montague, reports were always clear on one thing. Montague's three tattoos. The rose-snake, the barbed wire bears and the crowned spider. Each indicating criminal organisations, gangs or masterminds that Montague has been employed under. They were the key to her identity. Therefore, a plan was in order. So I had to warn Molly that her new friend was actually an assassin-…"
"And how did she take that?"
"…Badly."
"As badly as the last time when you helpfully informed Molly about one of her new friends?" John probed. "You know – the time with Moriarty? Or how about the other time when you ruined her other friendship with Jane? Or maybe the other one with Frank?"
"It's not my fault she has a very unfortunate taste in friends." Sherlock replied heatedly.
"Or if they don't meet your standards…"
Lestrade interjected. "Alright, guys. Save the domestic for later, yeah?"
John sighed at the choice of words. Sherlock returned to his explanation. "She understood that it was imperative that we didn't leave her with Montague for long. One of us had to stay with Molly constantly. And soon we discovered what it was that had made her so invincible to the authorities."
"She's an idiot." John clarified. "To put it very mildly."
Montague was finally in the police car. As they drove past, Montague was able to yell a final: "FUCKK UU KATIE STOOPID BITCH. OH WELL OFF TO JAYL NOW... LOL! Winky face, winky face. O, x, o, x, o, x, o, x-..."
She continued away into the night.
"Yes. An idiot," Sherlock echoed, listening to Montague's drowning ramblings. "Montague's disguise of absolute idiocy was so flawless, it made Anderson look like an omniscient god. No one could possibly suspect her of anything remotely half clever with the way she spoke and acted. So the tattoos were my only true proof of Montague's identity... and there was only one way to see to them…"
Lestrade gaped at Sherlock, who was trying to stay stony but was beginning to display cracks of unease at Lestrade's reaction.
John, seeing this, rubbed a palm over his mouth. "Do we… Do we have to go through this one, Sherlock? Through this case? I'm not proud of what I had to do either…"
"Why?" Lestrade turned to him. "What did you have to do?"
"We did what we had to do, Lestrade," Sherlock responded defiantly. "Because, as it turned out, Montague had a rapturous sexual appetite and was completely engulfed by our attention. It was effective and necessary, in order to find out what we needed to know."
"You... you had sex with her?"
"No. Of course not."
"Then what?"
"I... seduced her."
Lestrade laughed so hard he also had to sit down on the curb, his face red, mouth aching. Sherlock was abashed. "I seduced her, saw the tattoos, and then exited the flat as swiftly as I came! Why? Why is that funny? It was a necessary part of the plan! Stop laughing!"
AUTHORS: NOTE:
STAY TUNAD BAYBYES COS THRE IS MOAR
TO
CUM 3 3 :D :D
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C Katis! is this god nuff for uuuuuuuu?!
