A/N: I'm extremely sorry for the lateness of this chpater. Family troubles have prevented me from writing, but not anymore. We are back, up and running; raring to go. Now, on with the show.
LONDON: PRESENT DAY:
"Sherlock, please."
It had been three whole days since Mycroft's passing. Jim and I returned to Baker Street to give the heart wrenching news. Luckily Jim had a country manor in the outskirts of the city. There, Ellie could be looked after and hopefully raised. Well, until we are forced to move again. Surprisingly, the British Secret Service had not informed the Holmes' about the untimely death. John, Mary and Mrs Hudson had all been shocked and devastated. However, my own focused had been on Sherlock himself. Since telling him, he'd not uttered a single syllable to anybody. Glancing over to a worried looking John, I placed a comforting hand on Sherlock's shoulder. He quickly shrugged me off.
"Sherlock. Please, talk to me. Say something for God's sake." I yelled in a frustrated mess. Sherlock soon whipped around, bringing a hand up to wipe away an escaping tear.
"This was you. Don't act like the innocent victim Juliet. Because that's the last thing you could possibly be right now." He spat forcefully. I allowed my head to sag down in defeat and moved myself away from the current situation. The room had become silent once more. John placed a soothing arm around my shoulders, handing me a cup of tea in the process. I mumbled a thanks and turned my back to the crowd. The funeral was taking place in a mere week. Mycroft's mother and father had phoned a day earlier to inform of their nearing arrival. I'm guessing that Sherlock hadn't told them the whole story; nor did I want him too. It was in everyone's best interest that the senior generation of the Holmes' were kept in the dark. Sometimes I wish that I could just go back to the beginning, restart my life. Mycroft was a good man. No way on this planet did he deserve to die. Pulling me away from my trance, I could feel a buzz from my trouser pocket: a text from Jim. I carefully placed the china tea cup onto the coaster and whipped out my phone; opening the text soon after.
CALL ME NOW. IT'S URGENT. - JM.
Urgent? What could possibly be urgent? Shifting the thoughts from my mind and pressing call, I soon stood awaiting my husbands answer. One the third ring, he picked up.
"Jim?" I asked cautiously, not wanting to cause a sudden attention to myself. There was deep breathing from the other line.
"Juliet? Juliet? Can you hear me?" Jim said franticly. Once more, I frowned. What was going on? From the ground, Ellie stared up at me curiously. I reached out to give her my hand, she grabbed it and started to play with my middle finger. My daughter really was a darling.
"Of course Jim. What's going on?"
LONDON: 3 DAYS EARLIER:
Arriving back in London felt almost like I could breathe again. There was no-one here to suffocate me, like all of my trouble's had dissipated into thin air. Over the way, Jim had inherited a large piece of land. A large Edwardian Manor sat surrounded by the solitude that was Nature. Ellie was going to love it here. Removing ourselves from Jim's Jaguar, we stepped up and into the grand house. Jim removed a sleeping Ellie from my arms and took her swiftly up to the nursery. Then, minutes later he re-appeared holding two glasses of wine.
"Milady." He said slyly, passing on a cheeky wink in the mix. I took one of the glasses and smiled gratefully.
"Why, thank you good sir." We both shared a smile before drinking. Boy, did the wine taste divine. "Wow. Why is it that every time I drink, I feel tired?" I asked with a slight yawn. Jim just smirked in response.
"Old age, my love." Smacking him with my free hand, I moved closer to my husband.
"Are you calling me old, Mr Moriarty?" Jim removed the wine glasses from both our hands and proceeded to pull me close. I leaned in close and placed a tender kiss on his lips. He returned in kind by deepening another kiss and pressing his hand on the small of my back. However, I remembered that once we started this; neither of us would want to leave. I pulled away swiftly, earning a groan from Jim. Then placing a hand on his chest, I rested my forehead onto his. "Remember the last time we did this? I was kidnapped and dragged away from everyone. Do I crave danger? Or does danger just crave me? Sometimes I just don't understand." Jim and I shared an intense gaze, filled full of pent up and raw emotion. My Irishman placed a hand under chin, lifting it up just a slight.
"I remember that last kiss like it was yesterday. I-I could've done more. I searched for so long Juliet, for so damn long. Can you forgive me?" Surprised and mildly shocked, I smiled at Jim and kissed him soundly.
"Does that answer your question?" Jim returned the sly smile, leaned in again and captured my lips in another sound kiss. Remembering that our daughter was sleeping upstairs, I pulled away. My husband groaned in discontent. "Oh, be quiet. I need to get ready."
"What for? We've nothing planned." Jim questioned, his tone concerned. I gave him a reassuring kiss on the lips.
"Nothing special, I assure you. It's just dinner with Mary and John. They did ask if you wanted to come, however, I said you had other plans." My husband grinned and took a sip from the wine beside him.
"And this, is why I married you." Scoffing, I swung my arms around his neck and leaned in close.
"You love me too." Jim simply chuckled.
"Yeah, I guess I do."
LONDON: PRESENT DAY:
"Of course Jim. What's going on?"
Every being in my body was on tenterhooks. There was nothing I could do but stand and wait. What was he going to say? From across the room, I could see John and Sherlock giving me odd glances. I ignored them and closed my eyes tightly.
"I'm leaving. It's much safer this way." At that exact moment, I could feel my heart break into two. This was not happening, not now.
"Jim. What are you saying?" I pleaded desperately. My tone had increased rabidly, causing the attention of nearly every soul in the room to look my way.
"I'm going away for awhile and I'm not sure when I'll be back. That's if I come back."
"Ok. Jim, stop this. Stop it right now. You're not going anywhere."
"Juliet. No. I'm going and that's final. You can blame me all you want, but I have to keep you safe. You and Ellie." He said sternly. Tears streamed rapidly down my face. Cascading onto the floor, staining my blouse in the process.
"But-But, I only just got you back." I spluttered out. Out of the blue, the doorbell rang from bellow.
"Answer the door Juliet and remember, blame it on me."
"Wait-" Then, the phone simply died. John made his way over, Mary hot on his heels. Both looked rather concerned. John was about to speak, but was quickly interrupted by a frantic Mrs Hudson. She rushed up the staircase and moved closer to me.
"Oh Juliet, dear. There's a policeman here to see you." From behind the older woman, a middle-aged man entered the room. He wasn't very tall, yet looked very superior.
"Mrs Moriarty, I presume?" Nodding, I gulped. This couldn't be good.
"Yes. What can I do for you officer?" The Police Officer gave myself and the rest of a group a grim smile.
"I'm sorry to inform you, but my team found your husbands body beside the Thames last night. We're not sure how, but we've got our most senior officers looking into it. I am so, honestly sorry. Is Lestrade here?" Mrs Hudson cut in and showed the police officer into the kitchen. I was frozen. Nothing was processing correctly. Jim was dead? But, how was that possible? Hadn't I just been talking to him? Instead of voicing my concern, I simply broke down. Mary then pulled me into her arms and allowed me to sob.
"Why does this keep on happening to me? Why Jim?" John placed a hand on my back.
"Weren't you just on the phone with him? If so, how the hell is this possible?" I moved to reply, but was cut short by a certain detective's entry.
"It was recorded. His voice was distant. Almost like mine was when I jumped. Everything was recorded." Sherlock said quietly. He swooped up Ellie in his muscular arms and moved closer. "John, Mary, could you give us a moment?" Mary nodded and looped arms with her husband.
"Of course. Give us a shout if you need anything and Juliet; I'm so terribly sorry." I nodded in sorrow as the couple shifted away. Peering up at Sherlock and Ellie, I couldn't help but smile a little. Jim used to hold Ellie that way.
"Sherlock, I'm sorry." Sherlock shook his head swiftly.
"No Juliet. You have no need to be. I've been a fool in blaming you all this time. Jackson has done this, I can feel it. Did Jim mention anything to you?" Biting my lip and looking towards the ground, I let out a confused sob.
"He said, 'Blame it on me'. What is that supposed to mean?" The taller man shook his head once again and pulled me closer.
"I'm not exactly sure, my dear. But I'll find out. I'll keep you safe. We've both lost someone dear, I think it's what's best." I nodded and snuggled in close to Sherlock. Allowing the tears to fall and the emotions to run raw. At least now, I had Ellie and together; we would find out what really happened.
WINSLOW FOREST: 3RD PERSON:
Across London, a lone Range Rover sat in world of miserable solitude. Sat inside was the younger Holmes brother, awaiting the arrival of his oldest acquaintance. Suddenly, the car door swung open. The sound of The Archer's was drowned out by incurable cursing. Jackson turned the radio off and shifted in his seat.
"Your late." He said solemnly. The acquaintance scoffed and slammed the car door.
"Don't pester me. I've had some things to deal with." Jackson smirked and laughed darkly.
"Oh yes, you have. Is it all sorted now? Is it done? Can I finally move onto phase four?" He asked impatiently. The acquaintance sighed and nodded along.
"All sorted. Phase four is a-go. I've lost a lot because of this Jackson, this better be worth it. Oh, this better be worth it." Jackson smirked again and set the car into drive.
"Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy. This will defiantly be worth it." The British and Irish gentlemen gave each other knowing looks, before setting off down the autumn drive. One thing was for certain, Jim Moriarty was a defiant traitor.
A/N: Dearie me Jim. He can be such an ass, can't he? And poor Juliet. What will happen between her and Sherlock? Does anybody ship them? Will Juliet find out about Jim? What is Phase Four? OOOOOO... Draaammaaa...