Chapter 9 - Ah, Ah, Ah, Ah, Stayin' Alive, Stayin' Alive
Amy was in a wonderful mood. She mopped the floor of the shop, cleaning up any mud or slush tracked in from the day of customers, wondering whether or not to call Sherlock, but she figured if she didn't call within the next ten minutes her phone would ring anyways. The thought had her grinning to herself. It'd been a month since she'd woken up from a nightmare in Sherlock's bed, and it wasn't the last time she found herself waking up in that very room, more often than not with him fast asleep beside her. Though she knew he'd been spending lots of time since then trying to figure out her past and just who the Doctor was, he hadn't pushed her away, instead he'd pulled her closer. She was fairly sure she was in love with him. How could she not be? Brilliant, frustrating, exciting Sherlock Holmes; he was her type if she had one. Yet unlike the Doctor, Sherlock was human, and Sherlock was not someone running from anything. He also wasn't married to her daughter. Rather than making her give that involuntary wince it used to make her do, the thought made her laugh. The Doctor and River Song. Sherlock and Amelia Pond. Funny how their names acted more like titles, she mused, but she supposed that was part of the attraction. The power that name could hold. On cue, her phone rang, and she answered it even as she put the mop and bucket away. It only took a glance at the screen to see it was exactly who she expected, and she answered with a grin.
"Hullo, Sherlock. Just closing up the shop." she told him, sliding on her coat and wrapping her scarf around her neck.
"It's only a week until Christmas." he told her, and she laughed.
"You're absolutely right. Does this mean you're going to call your brother for a family reunion?" she teased, knowing now of the strained and complicated relationship of the Holmes brothers. The answer was a disbelieving snort.
"Please." there was a pause, and then came the question that clearly made him nervous because he made it sound unimportant. "But I was given the impression by John that most people do indeed spend Christmas with their family, silly holiday really, and-"
"You were wondering if I would be leaving London to spend Christmas with any family I may have." she finished for him. "No, I don't think I'll be going anywhere. God knows where Melody is, or the Doctor, and Rory and I don't spend Christmas together anymore." it hadn't taken Sherlock long to figure out just who Rory was, the ex-husband of Amelia Pond, and he was strangely relieved when she said it in such a tone to make it sound like the very last thing she wanted to be doing anyways. "Know what I think would be interesting though?" she said, and heard his sigh, they both knew what she was going to say. "I think you should call Mycroft and invite him round for tea."
"Amelia-" he tried to protest, but she didn't allow it.
"Oh come on Sherlock, is it really such a big deal? It isn't like he can do much plotting sitting across the room from you." He could see her grin in his minds eye as she spun her words around him. "I'm very curious to meet the elder Holmes brother, though I don't think anyone can be as brilliant as you, it would be interesting to meet the man who could come the closest." they both knew she was using flattery to try and get what she wanted, but neither were opposed.
"If he says no?" Sherlock asked, already regretting having agreed to call him in the first place, and could practically hear Amy beaming.
"Then I'll call him myself. Texted myself the number from your phone ages ago." Thrown completely by surprised, Sherlock knew his mouth was hanging open and snapped it shut, listening to Amy laugh through the phone. "Have you eaten today?" she asked, changing the subject, having taken it upon herself to make sure he ate proper meals even when in the middle of an exciting case. He began to say yes but hesitated and Amy jumped on the hesitation.
"Right then, Chinese? Ask John if that works cause I'm sure he's forgotten to eat too. Oh and put the kettle on, I've got a craving for some hot chocolate and you've got some above the kettle, I brought it last week." Sherlock chuckled and Amy listened as he asked John if he wanted Chinese food, and the surprised but agreeable response from John. Even as Sherlock lifted the phone back to his ear, Amy was turning away from the door and bumping into a stranger, making her drop her phone.
"Sorry!" she exclaimed, even as a small, well-manicured hand reached for it, lifting it out of the snow to hand to her. She could hear Sherlock shouting her name though it was only faint, and it made her nervous as the stranger's eyes drilled into her.
"Amelia, isn't it?" the familiar, empty-eyed stranger asked even as he looked at the screen before offering it, and she accepted her phone back while doing her best to avoid contact, her usual friendly smile on her lips, even as a chill struggled to take hold of her. She could feel the old impulse taking hold – the one to shout for the Doctor and have him come running, but she ignored it. She was better off not even thinking of him, instead focusing on the man waiting for her on the other end of the phone.
"That's me. Thanks." She glanced at her screen to see the call was still going, Sherlock's name clear as day beside the climbing number that told them the length of the call. She lifted it back to her ear even as the man's gaze bore into her but she kept the smile on her lips even as she passed him with a nod, hurrying down the street.
"Amelia! Amelia!" the moment he heard those three words being said by that voice, that hated voice, so close to her, it sent him into a panic. "Amelia!" he shouted again, before he heard her back on the phone, breathless but alive.
"Yes, I'm here. Sorry, bumped into someone."
"Get out of there." he ordered her, not even listening. He could hear his own pulse, the fear in his own voice, and heard her quicken her pace.
"I'm about to jump in a cab. What's the matter?"
"Remember the man? The one nobody likes to speak of?"
"Yes, yes of course. Jim, wasn't it? Jim Moriarty?" the name sent a chill down Sherlock's spine, and he felt the headache beginning behind his eyes. Once the idea of the man behind the name Moriarty had been a fascinating puzzle – a thrilling chase – but not anymore. Not now that he realized how easily the victims went from being general public to those few he held most dear.
"Yes. Moriarty." Amy could practically hear John fall out of his chair at the name. "Are you in a cab?" he asked, though he could hear her closing a door to the car even as he asked.
"Yes, just heading to the restaurant. Any requests?"
"Don't even think about going anywhere else but here." Sherlock growled, and she'd never heard him so upset.
"Sherlock it's really no big deal, it's just around the corner-" she began, but he cut her off. "Come straight here." He said firmly. "Don't go anywhere else or I swear, Amelia, I will be coming to drag you back myself." Amelia huffed but she didn't argue, giving Sherlock's address even as she worried about the man on the other end of the phone.
"Are you alright?" she asked tentatively, and heard him suck in a breath.
"He's supposed to be dead, Amelia."
It was then that she made the connection – Sherlock's death, the man who'd stolen the crown jewels. It was a touchy subject, those events from years before, but she remembered it all now, remember having read about it on the internet one of those many nights she'd spent on Lucy's computer. She let out a breath even as the cab pulled up in front of 221B.
"I'm out front, see you in a mo." she hung up and went to knock on the door, only to have it fly open before she could even make contact, and found herself being dragged inside and into Sherlock's arms. She gasped in a surprised breath, but allowed him to hold her, wrapping her arms around his neck as the door was slammed closed behind her. She didn't say anything, knowing that for once there was nothing she could say until he said something, anything to let her know how he was feeling. He'd never held her so desperately before, as if he was absorbing the fact that she existed, and all she could do was hold on. Then he was pulling her away, checking her over and finally taking her phone, flipping it over to find what he was looking for.
"Sherlock, what-" but he pressed a finger to her lips, his own expression stoic as he lifted the smallest little metal dot off her phone, crushing it before he returned her phone to her. Then his hands were on either side of her face, forehead pressed against hers as he took deep calming breaths, and oh how this moment reminded her of her Doctor.
"Have you ever seen him before?" Sherlock demanded next, leaning back ever so slightly to look in her eyes, still clearly searching for some sort of injury.
"Yeah, he's the one I mentioned – the one who bought all the cookies on Mrs. Hudson's birthday."
"So he's been watching you, all this time he's been watching you." Then he was dragging her up the stairs, despite her protests, and into the room where John stood pacing nervously as he hung up his phone, only relaxing a fraction when the two of them appeared.
"I've called Lestrade. He's coming over to get a statement. He's also bringing a photo, to make sure you saw him and not someone else." Sherlock was snatching John's phone away even as he spoke, shoving it at Amy.
"Call your flatmate. Tell her you need your things. That you'll be staying here." John could only listen in shock. He knew Amy had spent nights at the flat with Sherlock, but now that he was demanding she move in, something John had never expected to hear pass Sherlock's lips, he realized this was probably the closest to in love he'd ever seen the consulting detective. But it was not a request and so now she refused to bend.
"You can't just order me around because you think I may have seen a dead man."
"I don't think you saw him, Amelia, I know. I heard his voice and I know it was him." he was still shoving the phone at her. "Call her." In defiance, she brushed his hand away, taking out her own mobile. With a glare she stalked into the kitchen before dialling her flatmates number.
Sherlock watched her until she disappeared before turning to John.
"When did Lestrade say he'd be here?"
"Any minute." was John's nervous reply, though he tried to sound relaxed. He'd yet to witness it, but he didn't relish being around when Amy and Sherlock finally snapped at each other. Then Amy was back in the room, plucking John's phone from Sherlock's fingers and handing it back to John.
"Call Mary." she urged him, voice soft, and he gave a grateful smile, disappearing to make the call. Then she turned back to Sherlock, expression guarded.
"Lucy's going to come over after her shift and bring me my suitcase. But that's only if I call her back after Greg gets here and we know for sure that I saw who everyone seems to think I saw."
His eyes narrowed in a glare, hands fisting by his sides.
"It was him. Of that I have no doubt."
"And I'd like to double check!"
"Why are you bothering?" He demanded, voice lifting in anger. "If I say it's Moriarty, it is. His voice is not one I'll soon forget."
"Because maybe you're wrong!" she retorted, voice lifting to a near shout.
"I'm never wrong!" he shouted, and she leaned forward, not willing to be intimidated.
"I'm not just going to accept the fact that I've been bumping into a man who threatened to kill everyone you cared about to convince you to jump off a building and pretend to be dead for three years!" she shouted back, even as her face paled in realization of just what kind of person this man was. It struck her in that moment that sometimes humans were scarier than some of the aliens she'd faced beside the Doctor. He watched the hint of fear begin to snake it's way through her, cheeks paling, eyes widening the slightest fraction with fright, but her voice lost none of it's vigour.
"Amelia-"
"I refuse to be afraid of something I don't even know is real." she snapped, crossing her arms, a barrier between them, but in the next moment she was hugging him. "Just let me believe that for once you may be wrong. You can't think that it wouldn't be nice, just this once." he sighed, arms coming around her despite himself. He knew he wasn't wrong, but he couldn't disagree with her; for once he wished he was wrong too.
It was late by the time Lestrade had cleared out and Lucy had dropped by for a brief hello, the latter bringing in Amy's large suitcase after it was confirmed that the man she'd seen, twice now, was Moriarty. Her suitcase was sitting at the foot of Sherlock's bed on which Amy sat, leaning against the headboard, knees pulled up against her chest, arms clasped around them and chin resting on top. Sherlock waited as long as he could before going in, but he couldn't stand not knowing what was passing through her thoughts. He found her still sitting curled up on his bed, green eyes wary as they followed his movements those few steps it took for him to sit next to her.
"You were right, of course." she said, though it wasn't bitter, just tired. He didn't like seeing her like this, without the big flirty smile and the mischievous sparkle in her eyes.
"I'm sorry." he said, albeit quietly, and she nodded, cracking a smile for him.
"I know."
He cleared his throat, hand running through his hair in an almost embarrassed fashion. Curious by the motion, Amy felt her smile growing bigger.
"What is it?" she asked, feeling the laughter as he gave her an uncomfortable look before avoiding her eyes.
"While you were with Lestrade I thought you might want to be able to unpack so," he waved in the general direction of the closet and dresser, still not looking at Amy.
"Did you clear out space for me?" she asked, voice laughing, and when he finally looked at her the smile was back, the flirty tone in her voice matching the laughter in her eyes. He just stood, fixing his shirt though it didn't need fixing, looking around as if looking for an escape. Amy just moved to her knees, hooking her arms around him so she could pull him in for a kiss.
"Thank you." she said finally and he just nodded, fingers splayed around her waist as he leaned down to kiss her again. They didn't argue again that night, and she never got the chance to unpack.
Quick thanks to everyone for their wonderful reviews! :)
