When I came to, I was in a room that smelled of chlorine. My hands had been bound tightly. There was a man standing in front of me. His back was turned, and my vision was still a little blurry. I tried to move my body, but everything hurt. My feet were heavier than usual.
I heard a door open and close. Everything went silent for a moment. The man pulled me to my feet and walked me closer to the door. I almost fell several times. He kept whispering threats in my ear.
"I will kill you right now if you don't move faster." His voice rang through my head. He pulled me harder, causing me to wince with pain.
Then I heard another voice. A more familiar voice. Sherlock. He was coaxing the man out of our hiding spot. Then everything went silent.
"John. What the hell…?" I heard Sherlock say. They had John too. They must have grabbed us as soon as we separated. Should have stayed at the flat.
I could hear as the man who had me kept speaking, but he was never speaking to me. "I can stop John Watson too. I can stop his heart."
"Who are you?" Sherlock demanded.
The door opened a bit, the man grabbed my arm again. Harder each time he had to. "I gave you my number, I thought you might call." I knew who it was now. Jim, Molly's "boyfriend".
He walked out of the door, revealing himself, and puling me along with him. As we walked along the edge of the pool, my vision began to clear. "Is that a British Army Browning L9A1 in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" Jim asked.
"Both" Sherlock responded. He took the gun out of his pocket and pointed it a Jim, glancing at me for a moment.
Jim stopped walking, "Jim Moriarty. Hi!" We began moving again. Each step getting harder and harder for me as my legs felt weighted down. "Jim? Jim from the hospital? Oh? Did I really make such a fleeting impression? But then, I suppose, that was rather the point."
Sherlock looked between John and I. A red dot appeared on my chest.
"Don't be silly," Jim said, "Someone else is holding the riffle. I don't like getting my hands dirty." We came to a stop, still next to the pool, behind John. Sherlock was still facing us. My heart rate sped up, involuntarily. My life had been in danger many times, but drowning was my biggest fear. I made the connection to how heavy my legs felt and how close to the pool we were staying.
"I've given you a glimpse, Sherlock, just a teensy glimpse of what I've got going on out there in the big bad world. I'm a specialist, you see, just like you."
Sherlock began mocking him, "'Dear Jim. Please will you fix it for me to get rid of my lover's nasty sister?' 'Dear Jim. Will you please fix it for me to disappear to South America?'"
"Just so." Jim muse.
"Consulting criminal. Brilliant." Sherlock aimed more.
"Isn't it?" Jim said. He forced me down, whispering for me to put my feet in the water. The dot moving now to the side of my head. "No one ever gets to me. And no one ever will."
Sherlock cocked the gun, "I did."
"You've come the closest. Now you're in my way."
"Thank you." Sherlock blurted.
"I didn't mean it as a compliment."
"Yes you did."
"Yeah, okay. I did." Jim's voice getting higher pitched. "But the flirting's over, Sherlock. Daddy's had enough now!" He practically sang the last bit. His footsteps began moving away from me. "I've shown you what I can do. I cut loose all those people, all those little problems, even thirty million quid to get you to come out to play." The footsteps stopped. "So take this as a friendly warning, my dear. Back off." He began to move again, "Although I have loved this – this little game of ours. Playing Jim from I.T. Playing gay. Did you like that little touch with the underwear?"
"People have died." Sherlock stated.
"That's what people DO!" Jim's voice echoed through the gym. This caused me to jump and sliding a little more into the pool.
"I will stop you."
"No you won't." Jim said nonchalantly.
"You all right?" His voice was low, he was talking to John.
Jim's footsteps moved faster, "You can talk Johnny-boy. Go ahead."
I didn't hear anything from John. "What about your precious baby sister? Go ahead, darling. Tell your brother you're okay."
I didn't say anything. I didn't want to move. Jim began yelling again, "TELL HIM!"
"I'm fine, Sherlock." My voice was shaky.
"Take it." Sherlock blurted.
"Huh?" Moriarty turned his attention back to Sherlock, "Oh! That! The missile plans. Boring! I could have got them anywhere." I heard a plop in the pool.
There was a lot of commotion, I turned to see what was going on. "Sherlock! Run!" John screamed. He had taken hold of Moriarty. Sherlock only stood there.
Moriarty laughed "Good! Very Good!"
"If your sniper pulls that trigger, Mr. Moriarty, then we both go up." John said angrily.
"Isn't he sweet? I can see why you like having him around. But then, people do get sentimental about their pets. They're so touching, so loyal. But oops!" Moriarty laughed again. "You've rather shown your hand there, Dr. Watson." A red dot appeared on Sherlock's forehead. There were snippers all around the area. We would be lucky if he didn't kill us all. "Gotcha!"
John moved back rapidly. He shot a glance at me. There was fear in his eyes.
Moriarty straightened himself up. The mark had moved off of Sherlock's head. There was still one visible on John's chest.
"D'you know what happens if you don't leave me alone Sherlock, to you?"
"Oh, let me guess: I get killed."
"Kill you? N-no, don't be obvious. I mean, I'm gonna kill you one day anyway. I don't want to rush it though. I'm saving it for something special. No-no-no-no-no. If you don't stop prying, I'll burn you." His voice got deeper, "I'll burn the heart out of you."
"I have been reliably informed that I don't have one." Sherlock mused.
"I think we both know that's not quite true." Jim looked back at me. To be honest, everyone looked back at me. My eyes met Sherlock's. He was defeated. "Well, I'd better be off. So nice to have a proper chat."
"What if I were to shoot you now? Right now?" Sherlock asked.
"Then you could cherish the look of surprise on my face. 'Cause I'd be surprised, Sherlock, I really would. And just a teensy bit," he paused for a moment. "Disappointed. And of course you wouldn't be able to cherish it for very long. Ciao, Sherlock Holmes." Jim walked out of the door next to John and Sherlock.
We all waited for a moment after the door closed before making a move. I had wiggled the weights off of my feet. My arms had been zip-tied at the elbow. I was able to throw my legs over. Sherlock had pulled the bombs off of John and slid them across the floor.
Sherlock ran out of the room. John could hardly stand. He rested against the wall. When Sherlock came back in, he was still holding his gun. He made his way over to me, helping me up. We regrouped with John.
"Are you all right?" He asked us. When we didn't answer he asked again, yelling slightly, and very panicked. "Are you all right!"
"Yes." I told him. I sat down next to John. "Are you okay?" I asked Sherlock.
"Me? Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine. Fine." He wasn't fine. "That, er... thing that you, er, that you did. That, um... you offered to do. That was, um... good." He mumbled to John.
"I'm glad no one else saw that." John joked.
"Hm?" Sherlock asked.
"You ripping my clothes off in a darkened swimming pool. People might talk."
"People do little else." Sherlock said.
John began to stand when the red marks appeared on all of us again. There were more this time.
"Sorry, dears! I'm so…" Jim walked back into the room from a door farther back. "Changeable. It is a weakness with me, but to fair to myself, it is my only weakness."
Sherlock refused to look at him. John's breathing was heavy. He placed a hand on my shoulder.
"You can't be allowed to continue, " Jim continued, "You just can't. I would try to convince you but… everything I have to say has already crossed your mind."
Sherlock turned. He pointed his gun back at Jim, "Probably my answer has crossed yours." He pointed the gun at the explosives he took off of John.
We stayed in silence for a moment. John's weight getting heavier, I realized that I was holding him up.
A song I didn't recognize started playing. Looking to Jim, his expression is one of anger and frustration. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, the music getting louder. "D'you mind if I get that?"
"No, no, please. You've got the rest of your life." Sherlock said nonchalantly.
Moriarty answered the phone. He began yelling at the caller. Threating them. Finally he pulled the phone away from his ear. Getting closer to the bomb that Sherlock was still aiming at, he looked up slowly. "Sorry. Wrong day to die." He said, turning away from us and moving back to the door that he had entered from, "You'll be hearing from me, Sherlock."
He snapped his fingers and the marks disappeared, and he was gone. John released the breath he had been holding, "Well. What happened there?"
"Someone changed his mind. The question is: who?" Sherlock answered.
