Hello again! So chapter 10, eh? Yeah, I'm proud too. You guys are all so fabulous, sending amazing reviews and the like. This story wouldn't be written without you! I would also like to remind everyone that this story takes place before the third season and somewhere in the middle of the second.

I hope you all enjoy it. I own nothing, all is the Moftiss! All hail! Hail HAIL!

The car ride was less than silent, what with Moriarty trying to explain exactly what was going to happen once we arrived.

"You're going to have to stay close to either Sebastian or me at all times and I mean all times. These people are hardly as kind as I am," to which I scoffed, "and will most likely kill you, well after they've had their own fun."

"Lovely," I snorted, "instead of just you two maniacs, I'm being thrown into a maniac soup."

"We're being serious Moira," Sebastian said from the driver's seat, "these people are dangerous."

"And you two aren't?" I bit back, annoyed at their constant warnings.

"Not presently, no" Moriarty stated, glaring at me. I glared back.

"That goes for you as well, Jim." Sebastian remarked. Moriarty scowled at Sebastian through the rearview mirror.

"Unlike our pretty Moira, I am not some defenseless flower that needs to be under your constant gaze, Sebastian. But thank you for the thought."

"Oi!"

"Hush darling, the adults are talking." I growled but sat back again, crossing my arms.

"Jim, you're not even at full capacity and you know what these people are like."

I watched Moriarty slump back in his seat with a scowl on his face as Sebastian pleaded,

"So please, put aside your pride for one night and just stay close."

Moriarty muttered something incomprehensible and we drove the rest of the way in a comfortable silence, only broken when Sebastian informed us that we were almost there.

Back at Baker Street, the second Watson stared distractedly out the window of 221 B, a large book open on his lap. Sherlock leapt through the threshold of the door excitedly, a bow and arrow in hand.

"It was the stagehand! Used the bow and arrow to shoot his employer in the neck before hanging him from the rafters!" he sniffed with a sneer on his face, "Flying Indian indeed."

John made a noise of acknowledgment, looking away from the window and back to his book. Sherlock sighed dramatically and threw the bow and arrow into the corner before walking over to his own chair and flopping down on it, glaring at his blond flat mate.

"Are you still moping about?"

John's head snapped up and the look on his face was enough to send the mongrel hoard running.

"What!?" Sherlock cried indignantly, "you were the one who said she'd be fine!"

"She's my sister, Sherlock! I'm supposed to be worried about her!"

"Oh look on the bright side, John." He tried again.

"Which bright side exactly?" John asked, leaning forward in his chair. Sherlock was silent for a moment before shrugging.

"At least there's no body. Yet."

And John was out of the chair.

"Out of the car, Moira, we're here."

I shook myself from my thoughts, turning to see Moriarty already out and Sebastian holding the door open for me. Nodding stiffly, I slid out from my seat and stepped out of the car. My legs were shaking and I clutched the door handle, feeling like I would keel over at any moment.

I felt a hand take mine and something was slipped onto my finger. When I looked down, I saw a simple gold wedding band resting on my ring finger. I looked up into the smiling face of Moriarty and blinked.

"You can't be serious."

"Oh don't sound so disappointed, darling." he muttered, slipping on his own wedding ring. "Just trust me."

"That's a laugh."

With a grin he slipped his hand into mine, making sure to keep a firm grip all the while leaning heavily on the cane that Sebastian had provided. His eyes were wide and mixing with the bruise, shadows lined beneath them, making him look like a well dressed raccoon.

"Is that any way to speak to your husband?" Moriarty exclaimed dramatically and I allowed myself a playful smirk.

"Are we ready?" Sebastian inquired from behind us. Moriarty nodded.

"Come along, Mrs. Moira Moriarty." he smiled, leading me towards the immense mansion.

Back at Baker Street, Sherlock Holmes sat in his chair, nursing the black eye he had received from his flat mate. John had relocated to the kitchen, more interested in dinner than listening to Sherlock complaining.

"That was rather uncalled for, I think." came the deep baritone of said detective.

"No, actually," John replied, "I don't think it was."

Exiting the kitchen, a plate of spaghetti in his hands, the older Watson saw that his friend had picked up the discarded book that he had left on the table and was now flipping through it, his brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm line.

"What is this?" he asked as John sat in his own chair.

"Never seen a photo album then?" John laughed, digging into his food. Sherlock grunted and continued flipping through the album. After a moment or two, he stopped and held it open towards John.

"Who's that?" he asked, pointing to a man in one of the pictures.

John leaned forward and squinted at the picture. It was a picture of Moira standing in their parent's garden a couple of years ago. She wore a white sun dress and her hair was curled around her face. The smile on her face was tight and forced and there was a man standing behind her.

He was tall and well built with close cropped brown hair and a square face. He wore a white polo shirt and tan slacks and the smile on his face seemed just a bit too bright. As well, the arms he had around Moira looked to be holding her a little too tight. John glared hatefully at the picture.

"Wayne," he growled, taking on a very rigid and defensive stature. "Moira's ex, and for good reason."

"He abused her." Sherlock stated matter of factly but not without a tinge of gentleness.

"Yes," John replied, not even bothering to ask how Sherlock guessed. He supposed the signs were all there, if only he had figured it out as quickly as Sherlock just had.

"That's why she left," he continued, "she had found out that he had been sleeping around and broke it off right away but he kept turning up, demanding that she take him back. He had nothing, you see. He literally survived off Moira's income and when she refused, he started to get physical."

They sat in silence for a moment. John reached over and took the album from Sherlock's outstretched hands. Gently, he took the picture out of the book and stared at it. Then he got up and walked over to the fireplace that held a roaring fire within. A smile spread across his face as he let the picture fall from his hand into the flames.

"And if he ever shows up here again, he'll definitely get more than he bargained for."

The house, or if I could even say house, was absolutely enormous. I mean, it was a castle! Rose bushes surrounded the outside and tall pillars surrounded the large entrance way. The doors were wide open and a finely embroidered red carpet just reached beneath the threshold.

Moriarty led me up the wide steps leading up to the mansion and Sebastian stayed forever on my heels. I saw many other men and woman arrive in long sleek cars and appear in beautiful flowing dresses and smart tight suits. Even in my gorgeous gown, I felt inadequate.

When we finally reached the top of the stone steps, a man stood at the doors greeting the fine ladies and handsome gentlemen. When his eyes fell on the three of us, his face became more alert and he wasted no time in strutting up to us and speaking so quickly that I had no idea what he was even saying.

Moriarty nodded his head and indicated for the man to move on and when he still hung around, Sebastian took a step forward so that he was impressively looming over the shorter man. The strange butler man instantly paled and took a few steps back, muttering apologies and going back to the other people who were entering.

"Whoof," I released a breath, "you're like the Madonna of the criminal underground."

He chuckled quietly, apparently not wanting to offend any of the other butler-looking people who were standing around.

"Yes, I suppose I am. Now hush, this is where things start to get wild."

We entered through the doors and into an enormous hall, absolutely beautiful with carved fountains, marble tiling and another wide staircase in the middle leading up to a second floor. Tables encircled an empty area in the middle and people sat, some chatting and some having rather heated discussions. People were everywhere, standing on the staircase, leaning against the railings of the second floor and crowded into the hall before us.

Suffice to say I began to feel a little panicky. I had seen many of these people on the news for crimes that would land them in jail for a good many lifetimes and here I was, smack dab in the middle of them. The people I didn't recognize were just as frightening, however.

One group of women standing in a far corner wore all black leather and had riding crops strapped to their wrists. But for all I knew, they could be the entertainment. Most of the people however, in their suits and dresses, managed to give off the vibe of criminal just fine without the aid of S&M suits.

"Don't mind them," Moriarty's voice whispered next to me, "they're a small terror cell from Finland. Lovely ladies, I assure you."

"Oh yeah and you'd know right?" I replied, trying to keep my voice light.

"Yes actually. But right now I see you're starting to panic so," he took my hand and I found myself gripping it tightly, "we'll do this together. Remember, stay close and don't you dare wander off."

I nodded my head stiffly, my hand locked in his as he began to move into the crowd. I had lost sight of Sebastian and was beginning to be swallowed up by the sea of people. Moriarty had even disappeared from my sight and if it hadn't been for the light squeeze of his hand every now an again, I would have been thoroughly lost.

Moriarty tugged me forward and I nearly fell into his arms, but I was thankful to actually have him next to me instead of him just dragging me everywhere. I saw that he was separating the sea of people with his cane and laughed when he slammed the tip into some man's boot. The man twirled around to begin shouting but when he saw who it was, he shut his mouth and backed away.

"I must say, Mr. Moriarty, I am truly impressed."

"Why thank you, Mrs. Moriarty."

We continued, winding our way through the tables and chairs until Moriarty stopped. His back became rigid and the smile was completely wiped from his face. I peered over his shoulder and my eyes travelled up until they reached the grinning face of a tall man. His features were angular and thin and a beard covered the bottom part of his face.

His eyes, my God. A light blue and covered by a pair of circular spectacles, they filled me with a fear I had not known before, not even with Moriarty. While Moriarty's eyes were always so full of feeling, no matter what feeling, this man's were almost and completely devoid of it.

Moriarty's arm snaked back and pushed me behind him discretely. The man's eyes followed me and he smiled, his eyes crinkling. Then he looked at Moriarty, the smile still on his face.

"Mr. Moriarty what a pleasure." he had a very strong accent, Danish I think. It unnerved me.

"Magnussen," Moriarty hissed, not even bothering to hide his dislike for the man before us. Then a thought popped into my head. Why did everyone's name start with an M?

Magnussen tilted his head so he could see me and grinned.

"Charming," he muttered not taking his eyes off me, "Absolutely charming."

"What are you even doing here?" Moriarty snapped, moving in front of me, "You're no criminal, as far as Scotland Yard can tell. You said so yourself, you're a business man."

"And what better place to get business, hmm?" he answered, his eyes still staring past Moriarty. "These people will tell me anything if it means the fall of another judge or parliament member."

"But at the moment," he continued, his smooth voice rolling over me, "I'm more interested in meeting that lovely creature you are hiding behind your back."

I paled as Moriarty stepped out of the way, albeit grudgingly. He sent me a warning look that said, watch out.

"My wife, Moira Moriarty," he stated and I found myself straightening my back. "Moira, this is Charles Augustus Magnussen."

"Mr. Magnussen," I greeted amiably.

"A pleasure I'm sure," Magnussen purred, taking my hand and bringing it to his lips. I shivered.

"Now, if you will excuse us," Moriarty growled, "There are many I must meet with."

He tore my hand from Magnussen's and began to drag me as far away as possible. I looked over my shoulder and saw the man grinning wildly, his eyes never leaving the two of us.

"Who was that?" I asked breathlessly.

"Magnussen," he spat out, "A disgusting man. He is one of the most powerful men in Europe, only getting to be by blackmail and manipulation. No one can turn my stomach like Charles Augustus Magnussen. Keep well away from him, Moira or he'll end up collecting you as well."

"Collecting!?" I hissed, "What do you mean collecting?"

But Moriarty didn't answer and I found we were heading straight for another group of men and women. When we reached them, they greeted us and Moriarty began to speak quite pleasantly, as though the last few minutes hadn't happened.

I, on the other hand could not focus and my mind kept drifting back to the gut wrenching feeling I had experienced when I had looked at Charles Magnussen. I would most definitely listen to Moriarty and stay as far away from him as possible.

Yikes so we're facing a few problems here, first we've got Wayne, who is an asswad and will continue to be so. And also we have Magnussen who is just always creepy. And where has Sebastian gone? All coming soon. I hope you liked it. Keep leaving your motivational reviews and I shall continue writing fabulous chapters. Love is a two way street!

~U-Hinged