Thirty minutes later, Anguirus was dressed in that pink and white polka-dot dress and black cardigan -which had a slip of paper with Anthea's number on it in the pocket, much to John's annoyance- and was in a cab with Megan and Sherlock. They had argued for some minutes before they came to a deal. Anguirus and her daughter would go with Sherlock if they could stop and get pizza on the way. It had to be to-go, but at least it was still food. Food made her think of Dylan and how her stupid 'ha-ha-I'm-smarter-than-you' complex had ended his life. Anguirus rubbed her forehead, telling herself not to think of it. She needed to focus on Megan.
They arrived at 221 B Baker Street and as soon as they stepped in, she stopped and stared up the stairwell. Before he could say anything, Anguirus signed, "Smell that cologne?" Sherlock sniffed and slowly nodded. It was difficult while holding Megan in her carseat, but she took the pizza from Sherlock and they parted ways; him up the stairs and her to 221 A. Anguirus opened Mrs. Hudson's unlocked door and walked in. The old woman was sitting in her living room watching television and was about to give a cheery 'hello', but Anguirus quietly shushed her. She sat Megan down by Mrs. Hudson's chair and leaned forward, whispering in her ear, "Don't ask questions. Take Megan into your bedroom, call the police, and wait there until Sherlock or I come to get you." Anguirus then left the apartment and headed up the stairs slowly with pizza in hand.
Finally, she was at the doorway and she stepped in, ignoring the feeling of her heart dropping into her stomach as she saw Moriarty sitting in Sherlock's chair and Sherlock sitting down in John's.
"Oh! Look at that dress, isn't she darling?"
"I think she's quite annoying, actually."
"I could take her off your hands, if you'd like."
"I don't think so."
Anguirus ignored them and sat the pizza down on Sherlock's desk, flipping open the lid and taking out a slice of pepperoni pizza. She turned to the two men and took a big bite, chewing slowly. Moriarty chuckled, "Is that why you've gained ten pounds? You've been putting that junk into your body?"
"Why are you here?" Sherlock asked.
"Don't ask obvious questions, Sherlock. It's embarrassing." Moriarty sipped some tea and smiled, "Or are you just hoping that I'll say that it's for you?"
"You're not going to just walk out of here with her."
"I'm more than capable of doing just that."
"Why can't you just leave me alone?" Anguirus tossed the slice of pizza back into the box and sat down on the arm of John's chair, visibly annoying Sherlock.
Moriarty leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "Because, Anguirus, much like Sherlock, you were meant for me."
"Bullshit."
He pulled a face and leaned back into the chair, addressing Sherlock, "Do you know how Anguirus and I met, Sherlock?
"Officially or unofficially?" Sherlock asked.
Moriarty smiled, "I'll tell my version. I can only imagine how our dear Anguirus muddled up the story. I saw her enter Dark Corners. She was glowing. It was a sight, really. She did the oddest things; first, the lime juice, then the embarrassing dancing. I decided immediately that she was the one. I thought that the glow was from the drugs I took, but the next day I saw her and there was no change."
"Does she still glow?" Sherlock asked.
Moriarty looked at her, his eyes dark, "Brighter than ever."
Anguirus felt her heart rate rising. It made her uneasy. Everything about this man made her sick, "Why don't you find someone your own age? You're like, what, forty?" Anguirus spat at him.
"Ouch." Was his reply, "Age is just a number... Once you're over eighteen, anyway."
"My money's on mid-life crisis." Sherlock stated.
"Oh, ha ha. You two make a great team."
Anguirus stood and began fixing herself a cup of tea, "Can I snap his neck now?" She asked calmly.
"No, Z."
"Why not? No one will be mad about it."
Moriarty stood and smoothed out his grey suit jacket, facing Anguirus. Sherlock quickly stood as well, just in case. Moriarty stepped up to her, "Speaking of snapping necks," His face hardened, "Do you think you could possibly STOP KILLING MY MEN?!"
His elevated voice put her right back into the house in the mountains and as a reaction to that unpleasant feeling, she punched him in the face. As soon as Anguirus' fist connected with his nose, Sherlock's arms wrapped around her waist as he tackled her to the ground to avoid the bullet that shot through the window. All three of them landed onto the wooden floor. Anguirus felt the stitches on her side split open again and groaned from underneath the detective, "He didn't used to shoot at me."
"You didn't used to kill his people." Sherlock responded, getting off of her and helping her up.
Moriarty was laughing as he laid on the ground, blood pouring from his nose, "You don't want to kill me."
Anguirus stepped towards him, but Sherlock put his arm out to stop her, "Excuse me?"
Moriarty stood, still chuckling as he took a handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe the blood off of his face. He took his time, smoothing his hair back down, "If you wanted me dead, you would have done it a year ago. But, instead, you just put me to sleep. You can't kill me because, deep down, you feel it, too. You just need to give in to it. All this fighting really isn't healthy." Sirens started in the distance, "Oh, it's time to go." He walked towards the door.
"Like hell it is. Get down, Sherlock." Anguirus growled and jumped at Moriarty, tackling him to the ground. She pushed his laughing face into the floor and twisted his arm roughly behind his back, dislocating it. Sherlock did as she said just as a barrage of bullets pierced the wall opposite, trying to find a target. Suddenly, they just stopped.
"This is not how I pictured you on top of me." Moriarty stated, humor still in his voice.
"Me neither." She hissed, "There was a lot more dismemberment in mine."
The front door was heard bursting open and almost a dozen foot steps were heard coming up the stairs. Then, like angels, police came into the line of sight with Lestrade leading them.
"I can't believe you caught the bastard." He said, "Oh, yeah, and welcome back to London."
A very pissed off Moriarty was handcuffed and led downstairs, Anguirus and Sherlock following them, both feeling happy that it was all over. That sense of relief was squashed when they both saw Mrs. Hudson at the bottom of the stairs, holding Megan in plain view of Moriarty. It seemed that time had slowed as the criminal slowly turned his head to look at the baby, his eyebrows furrowing as he took in her features. The biggest giveaway, however, was when Megan saw Anguirus and stretched out her arm towards her, opening and closing her hand like she desperately wanted her. Moriarty twisted his neck around to look at Anguirus and saw her looking at the baby in panic right before he was forced completely out of the building and eyesight.
Anguirus stood still on the bottom step, "Mrs. Hudson, I think you just fucked it up."
After a moment of tense silence, Sherlock stated, "I agree. I'm going to search the flat for cameras."
Anguirus took Megan from Mrs. Hudson as the old woman apologized, "I'm so sorry, dear, really. I heard the police and thought that he'd gone. I didn't want to leave her alone. I am so sorry."
"It's okay, Mrs. Hudson." Anguirus muttered as she walked past her into her apartment to grab the carseat and diaper bag. She turned and almost ran into the frantically worried woman and hugged her, "Thank you for watching her."
Anguirus stood outside of the door, staring into the apartment, "Is it clear?"
"Clear." Sherlock said as he walked back into the sitting room. He took the carseat and the diaper bag from her, quickly sitting them onto the coffee table before turning back to her and placing his hands on her shoulders, "Are you alright?" The response came in the form of slow drips. They both looked down and saw that her entire side was drenched in blood, dripping off of her dress and leg.
"God damn it." She said.
"I'll text John."
Anguirus kissed Megan's head before sitting her down in the carseat and heading to the the bathroom. She peeled her dress off and wet a towel, trying to clean it up the best she could before walking back into the living room with the towel over her bleeding side.
"I'm going to have to tell Mrs. Hudson to get new locks..." Sherlock looked up at her, the end of his sentence faltering as she walked in in just her underwear.
Anguirus plopped down on the couch, laying on her uninjured side as she answered, "And new windows and to patch up the walls." She covered her eyes with her raised forearm, sighing deeply, "He's probably worked it out by now. Megan and I should catch a boat to Morocco or Fiji or something."
"Perhaps you just don't want to stay with me." Sherlock stated in that robotic way he did when he was offended.
"Oh, maybe that's because Moriarty can literally just walk in here at any time, as he just demonstrated."
Their conversation was interrupted as John and Mary came rushing up the stairs, "What happened? What- Jesus!" John turned and covered his eyes, "Why aren't you wearing clothes?"
"Because I bled through them. Toughen up, man, you've seen naked women before."
"Well, it makes Mary uncomfortable."
Mary was chuckling, "I don't care."
John looked at her, surprised, "What? Really
"I have total trust in you. And you're not Anguirus' type." Mary laughed.
"Will you just stitch her up before she bleeds on my couch? Thank you." Sherlock looked very annoyed while he sat in his chair.
For the second time that day, previous events were recounted as a needle went in and out of her skin. It was going to get infected at this point. Mary had picked up Megan and was bouncing her up and down. She definitely had baby fever. John finished and placed some gauze on top of it, "Maybe she shouldn't stay here, then." He said.
Anguirus sat up, "Especially since he knows that Megan is a thing. I just don't know how much he'll care."
"Well, this is Moriarty. He'll, hopefully, not care at all." Mary said.
"No." Sherlock said, "This is a psychopath with an obsession. Megan is like a physical representation of that obsession; if he thinks she's his child, he won't stop until he has her, as well as Z."
"Oh, thanks for that, Sherlock, really." Anguirus muttered.
"'If'?" John asked, "So, there's a chance that he doesn't think Megan is his?"
"If we play it right." Sherlock answered.
Anguirus groaned and placed her head in her hands, "I don't understand." She stood and started pacing, running both hands through her hair, repeating herself, "I don't understand."
"Could you put some clothes on now?" John asked.
"I don't have any clothes!" She suddenly shouted. Everyone except Sherlock jumped. It was surprising that Megan didn't start crying as she stared at her mother with wide eyes.
"Okay, okay." Mary handed the baby to John and walked over to Anguirus, placing her hand on the distressed woman's back, "Let's go see if Sherlock has something in his room, alright?" She guided Anguirus into Sherlock's room and shut the door behind them.
Anguirus sat on the floor next to Sherlock's bed and pulled her knees to her chest, resting her forehead on them. Mary sat beside her and placed her arm around her shoulders, "You know, it's okay to cry." With those words, Anguirus let out a sob. It was like she needed permission to be weak. Anguirus cried into Mary's shoulder as the older woman spoke, "It's alright to be scared."
"No, it's not." Her muffled voice replied.
"Everyone gets scared. I'd be messing myself if Moriarty was after me."
"I'm not 'everyone'."
"Right, right. You're the great Anguirus Zamora. American assassin who I have spent years of my life looking for, but could never find. Anguirus Zamora: Badass. But, hey, listen to me." Mary made Anguirus look up at her, "You are also human. Most importantly, you're a mother to the best baby I have ever had the pleasure of looking after."
"I can't let anything happen to her."
"Which is why you're going to beat Moriarty. For Megan and for you, okay? Let's get you some clothes." Mary stood and opened Sherlock's closet.
They exited Sherlock's room, Anguirus wearing one of Sherlock's white sleeping shirts and a pair of his silk pajama pants. She kept her eyes downward, knowing that her eyes were red from crying.
"Everything alright?" John asked.
"Fine, I think." Mary answered.
Anguirus took Megan from John, who looked like he wasn't sure if he was allowed to put her down. She rested the baby against her shoulder and kissed the tired baby's temple. Sherlock was watching her and she felt like he just knew every embarrassing thing that transpired in his room. It was silent for a moment before Anguirus looked over to the Watsons, "... You guys want to be God Parents?"
John looked shocked, "... What?"
Mary, on the other hand, looked happy as she looked at her husband. They did that thing that couples do where they have a conversation with their eyes. John looked back at Anguirus, "You hardly know us."
"I just left Megan with you for an entire week. I trust you guys."
"It's in case she dies." Sherlock said from his spot, his eyes narrowed at Anguirus.
"Anguirus," Mary said, "We'd be honored. And you're not going to die."
"Thankfully. I don't know if I'm ready to be a father just yet." John added.
The Watsons left pretty soon after that and the air of the apartment was tense, like a tornado had just passed through. The apartment looked like that, anyway. Anguirus grabbed the entire box of pizza and sat down in John's chair. She opened the box and picked up a slice, biting into it as she listened to Megan's quiet snores.
"Are you going to eat that entire pizza?" Sherlock asked.
Anguirus slowly chewed, "Not if you're going to have a piece."
Sherlock stared at her for a moment before getting up and grabbing a piece from the box and sitting back down. They were quiet as they finished eating. Sherlock wanted to say something, she could tell. He didn't, though. Just kept glancing at her.
Anguirus sighed and closed the lid of the pizza box, "So, where do I sleep?"
