"So how did you do it?"
"Any comment on the thief?"
"What are you investigating next?"
Sherlock and John stood together in front of a recovered painting if the Reichenbach Falls, which they had uncovered by tracking down the thief using nothing but a partial bootprint and a chewing gum wrapper. The reporters in the crowd were taking pictures and peppering them with questions, but all Sherlock could do was smile at Alice, who stood in the back of the room, watching them in silence. They finally waved off the reporters, telling them, "that's enough," before making their way over to her.
"Congratulations, my wonderful detective,"Alice smiled, giving him a kiss that would make the front page of several newspapers and tabloids the next morning. "I knew you'd be able to find it."
"Excuse me?" A reporter had tapped her on the shoulder, Alice turning to face the woman. "Kitty Riley, no relation, of course. Can I have a word?"
Alice nodded. "Just a few minutes, though."
She followed Kitty into a hallway off of the exhibition room, the reporter turning on her tape recorder. "I figured I'd like another perspective on Mr. Holmes. You two seem rather, er, close. Can I confirm it for my readers that you're together?"
"Yes," Alice smiled.
"So what's it like, dating one of the best and most mysterious detectives that London has ever known?"
"It's an adventure," Alice sighed. "We met when I moved into a flat near his, but we would've met at work either way. We're both involved with the homicide and violent crimes division at Scotland Yard. We're working together a lot, but we've also got our separate projects."
"Has all of this sudden success changed your relationship at all?"
"Well, it's made us both busier, but at the end of the day, we're both there for each other," Alice told her. "We'll still see each other, even if it's late at night when we get home, or if we meet up for lunch while we're both running separate cases."
Kitty turned to see Sherlock and John leaving the exhibition room, and asked, "It seems I only have time for one more question. So I have to know, for my avid readers…" She leaned in to whisper, "What's the sex like?"
Alice answered gracefully. "I've got to run, but I'll let your readers imagine that for themselves." She jogged to catch up with Sherlock and John, who were getting into a cab and going home.
They had just settled in back at Baker Street when Mycroft called, Alice picking up her phone first. "Nice interview on the news, brother mine," he said after Alice had put him on speakerphone. "It seems like a friend of ours saw it."
"What do you mean?" John asked, looking concernedly at the others.
"Have you seen the news? Your recovery of the Reichenbach painting was briefly mentioned, but there were much more serious things to be covered. There was a mass breakout at Pentonville, a data robbery at the Bank of England, and the Crown Jewels have been stolen."
"What the hell…"
"No, Ms. Reilly, who the hell. Jim Moriarty," Mycroft explained. "He was behind all of it. The guards found him sitting on a throne, wearing the Crown Jewels. He went into custody peacefully."
"Something has to be up, then," Alice concluded. "A man like Moriarty would never allow himself to be captured, unless he knew he could get something out of it."
"Sherlock, I will need you to testify at his trial. You too, Ms. Reilly." Alice blanched as Mycroft told them this, Sherlock taking her hand in solidarity. "He's scheduled to be on trial next week. Both of you already know how to testify, so you shouldn't have that much difficulty with the system."
"Alright. That's it, then?" Sherlock asked.
"For now. Goodnight, all."
Alice spent the next week working tirelessly at the Yard, throwing herself into new investigations and projects. When she got home, she would go jogging with Chester, trying to figure out what she would say on the stand. She could remain strictly professional, telling the jury only what she had learned about Moriarty from her time at Scotland Yard. Or she could tell them everything. But she'd be lucky if she was only discounted as a witness after that. At best, they'd retract her testimony. At worst, she could end up in jail for the rest of her natural life.
The night before they were set to testify, Alice was standing in the living room of 221B, ironing their business suits, when she froze, remembering that she would be facing Moriarty on the stand in less than 24 hours. "Something wrong?" SHerlock asked as he walked into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.
Setting down the iron and turning it off, Alice turned to him and said, "There's something I have to tell you. Something I should have told you a long time ago, when Moriarty first became important in your life and when we first started seeing each other." Sherlock raised an eyebrow, Alice taking a deep breath and explaining that, "You could probably tell that I'm not British. Not by birth, anyway. I was born in a little town in The Middle of Nowhere, Florida, and when it came time for me to go to university, I went to the best school I could. But for graduate school, I had no money, no real job, and my parents… well, they couldn't help. I'd made a friend doing an international studies program, and he knew people. He made me an offer…"
Sherlock moved to hug her when he noticed the tears in her eyes. "Moriarty?"
She nodded. "At first, it was just being a lookout for some of his larger groups. But then he needed help with other things. Accounting, market fraud, crimes that couldn't be traced. But when I decided I wanted to stay in England, he upped the price. He'd ensure that I got to stay here, that I got all of the proper documents from all of the right people, but for a price. I committed my first contract killing when I was 22."
"Why did you stop?"
"It's a lot harder working with Scotland Yard and being a criminal at the same time than if I had any other job. They hired me out of graduate school, so I decided to taper off my work with Moriarty," she explained, trying to maintain her composure. "He let me go back to financial crimes and document forging, since it was easier to keep up with my schedule at the Yard. But one night, he was incredibly short-staffed on snipers. I… I'd had the best record at the Yard for a while, so he called me in. I couldn't really say no. So I got a cab and headed to this pool he'd sent me to. I'd taken up my rifle, and I was sitting there, talking to all of the others like it was old times… and you walked in." She paused, holding onto Sherlock as she confessed, "That's when I knew. I knew that if anything happened, if he was going to hurt you, I'd shoot him instead. Even if one of the others took me out a second later, Moriarty would be dead. That's what I should've done."
"No." Sherlock wasn't lost for words, but he gave her the opportunity to continue. When Alice just sniffled, he kissed the top of her head before resting his chin on it and asking, "Would you still do it now?"
"What?"
"Kill Moriarty, even if it meant taking a bullet for it?"
"Without hesitation," she responded. "He's taken too much from me, taken up too much of my life, made me do unspeakable things. Of course I would."
"Hmm. Good. Excellent."
"You're not mad?"
"Mad?" He held her at arm's length, exclaiming, "I'm the furthest thing from mad! Here I find out you've had this secret past, one we can use against Moriarty! Alice Reilly, you're more of an asset than ever!" Sherlock simply beamed, kissing her again. "You're going to do wonderfully at this trial, and you're going to get him convicted for sure."
"Really? You're not even a little pissed off that I never told you any of this?"
"We all have our secrets," Sherlock shrugged. He guided her over to the sofa, saying, "I'll make tea and finish all of this ironing. You watch something on telly - not the news, it's just sad. I'll be back in a bit."
When Alice woke up in the morning, she momentarily forgot where she was. It was when she saw Sherlock next to her that she smiled, but her stomach sunk at the thought of going to trial. "Sherlock, get up." She shook his shoulder gently, the detective almost falling off of the sofa in surprise. "We've got to be ready."
John joined them, facing the onslaught of reporters who had camped out in front of their flat overnight. They made small talk in the cab, but Alice spent most of her time clenching Sherlock's hand, looking out of the window. "Remember what they told you. Don't mouth off at the judge, the bailiff, anyone. Keep it simple and brief," John instructed as they pulled up in front of the courthouse.
Sherlock leaned over to whisper to Alice, who was seated on his right. "Remember, you're going to do fine."
They all proceeded to a holding room, finally being called in as "Crown versus Moriarty, courtroom ten." The bailiff led them in, telling John where to sit up in the gallery as Alice and Sherlock made their way down to a bench on the prosecution's side. Alice took his hand again, watching as the judge was seated. She was called first, as the expert from Scotland Yard.
"Ms. Reilly," the prosecuting barrister strode in front of her, asking, "please give us the details of your work with Mr. Moriarty."
"James Moriarty first came to Scotland Yard's attention a couple of years ago, but only in whispers. But then he became connected with smuggling rings in London and around the world. He began sponsoring murders, and intercepting items of national security. The MI5 and 6 files have already been distributed to you, you can read about those there. But," she took a deep breath, looking over at Sherlock before telling the court that, "he has been connected with a lot more than that. Professional-style assassinations, white-collar crime, he's masterminded over a hundred different crimes against the crown itself. He does this of his own interest, and as a criminal for hire."
The barrister nodded, and then she asked, "On the day of the crimes in question - the breakout at Pentonville, the break-in at the Tower of London, and the break-in at the Bank of England - would you say that he was working as a consultant?"
Alice shook her head, pushing her glasses up on the bridge of her nose. "He'll help people for a price. But that day, everything was purely out of self-interest. He wanted to get caught. It's all part of the plan."
Cross-examination wasn't very difficult, Alice finally taking a seat with John in the gallery after a brief recess. They watched Sherlock testify, but Alice had to excuse herself to go deal with Lestrade and the booking process, since Sherlock had been held in contempt of court. She'd waited for John before heading home with him, both of them sorely mad that he'd had to show that he was, in his opinion, smarter than the court system.
"You shouldn't have tried to outsmart the barristers," Alice said that evening. "It's not too smart."
"But I am smarter than them," Sherlock frowned, making Alice smile.
She sighed, giving him a kiss before leaning her head on his shoulder as they watched the recap of the trial on the evening news. "I love you, my smartass."
The next morning, Alice and John sat in the gallery, waiting. They were dismissed as the jury filed out, but had to run back into the room when after six minutes of deliberation, they had already reached a verdict. "Not guilty?!" Alice fumed as John called to report back to Sherlock, who had stayed home after the debacle the previous day. "How the hell is he not guilty?"
"Do you want to talk to him?"
Alice took the phone from John, immediately ranting, "No defense, and he's not guilty. He must have done something to convince the jury… ugh, Sherlock, he'll be after you again. And if I have to kill him myself, I'll do it, I swear to-"
"Alice," Sherlock interrupted, his voice steady. "Listen to me. It will all work out in the end. Alice, I promise you, everything will work out in the end. You and I will get through it, okay?"
"Okay. I… fine." She stopped pacing on the sidewalk, taking a breath to calm down. "John and I are going to grab a bite to eat, maybe a drink after all of this… We'll be back in a bit, okay?"
When she and John got back to the flat, Alice's rage had somewhat subsided. She took off her suit jacket, draping it over her arm as she climbed the stairs. Stepping into 221B, she stopped suddenly. "Sherlock?"
"Hmm?" He set down his violin, looking over to where she and John had just walked in.
"He's been here, hasn't he?"
Sherlock shook his head. "Whatever are you talking about?"
A.N.: Writing the next few chapters is going to make me cry, bc we all know what has to happen after Moriarty walks free... Agh... Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this. Someone's blasting their radio in my dorm and it's the middle of the night. Goodness. I'm gonna go investigate. Love you all!