Two months. Two months had ticked by. And she meant ticked. Every morning was a chore, getting ready was a chore, the drive to London was a chore! Nine hours a day, 5 days a week, she had to sit in what resembled a Edwardian's drawing room developing Vitamin D deficiency due to the lack of sunlight. She was at her wits end. Ever Moriarty was having seconds thoughts and considering pulling her out of the job. One, because Mycroft barely showed himself and when he did it was minimal. Most of his conversation was directed at Sandra, Katherine merely delivered the mail and organised his lunch. And two, because...he just could handle her endless complaining anymore. He went to bed listening to her dithering babble and woke with a headache. If nothing developed soon she was being removed, her her own safety.

It had not been all bad for the past week however. It was one week until Christmas so she'd been spending most of her time 'at work' online shopping, instead of typing up telegrams for Lord Holmes while he dinned out of office. Of course the majority of the shopping was for herself, but that's still classed as Christmas shopping.

On this particular afternoon, he was out and about town on confidential government business with Sandra in tow, leaving her all on her lonesome. Her lovely, peaceful, lonesome.

So far she'd found a lovely pair of Christian Louboutin's to do with a gorgeous Oscar De La Renta gown. It would come in perfect for the next dinner Jim dragged her to. She had ate her chicken salad without interruption and was about to begin browsing Alexander McQueen's new collection of boots. Unfortunately, one individual chose to disturb her peace.

The moment the door opened, she jumped and expected to have to greet Mr Holmes. But that wasn't who presented themselves. In fact no one presented themselves. He simply walked in quite abruptly and only spoke once he was already past her desk.

"Is he in?" Messy brunette curls, that's all she managed to catch due to only catching the back of his head. Tall...taller than Mycroft. Skinny...er than Mr Holmes. But he did had that same stiff walk. Government man. She almost wanted to weep.

"Excuse me?" The man barely made it to the door of Mycroft's office when he turned around, finally allowing her to get a look at his face.

"Mycroft. Is he in?" Young...kind of. He had one of those faces to which a certain age couldn't be applied. Light eyes, clean shaven. Katherine hid a frown behind a amused, open mouthed smile and went to speak. But he was too quick. "Of course he's not. You haven't left your desk in almost an hour and you're posture raised two inches when I entered...where is he?"

What...what had just happened?

He spoke so quick she was practically tripping trying to keep up. He barely looked at her but his eyes moved to different parts of the room like a bird of prey, is hand accompanying his observations. Who...Oh...Of course.

"Sorry?" The smile which came to her then was a one of pure success. If she was write, she would finally get a reward off the back of this stupid job.

"Mycroft Holmes. Your boss. Where is he?" He was already agitated by her. Twisting his face and violently throwing his arms about. He was like a child.

Katherine went to speak again once he had quiet ended down, but just like the time before she was barely able to make a squeak. "I-"

"The other one isn't here. So he must be driving." The man pointed to the desk opposite hers and then pulled a phone out the pocket of his long overcoat.

"Excuse me, but who are you?" She finally managed to get a full sentence out due to him being distracted, typing out a message on his phone. What was even more shocking was he answered almost immediately.

"Sherlock Holmes."

Bingo.

He said it so easily, so casually, just the same as anyone would say a name. And yet he had no idea of what the consequences would be. Something changed in Katherine then. She sat talked and her smile turned into its more natural sinister smirk. So this was the man her husband had been lusting after for so many months. The one and only. She had to admit, upon first sight she was disappointed. He was nothing like she imaged, he was even more disappointing than his brother.

"Oh, right...nice to meet you. I'm-"

"Don't care." Eyes widened, of course he registered her offence but didn't truly consider it. She was the new one. Hadn't worked there any longer than two month. It wasn't her first job. She didn't care about it and spent most of her time procrastinating. She would be gone in a few month anyway judging by her posture. All from one look. She was not worth his time.

"He's out at a meeting." Katherine openly scowled at him and turned back to her PC. "I will let him know you stopped by." It was bittersweet. He should have cared, it would do him the world of good to care. But she was glad he kept his head down as he started to walk out the room. The less of her he remembered the better.

"Do tell him I'll be back later." And with that he left. A meeting totalling less than five minutes had been exactly what she had been sat here for. And just when she was close to convincing Jim to receive her...typical.

Without hesitation, Katherine reached into her desk draw and texted the number she knew most off by heart. They were smart, neither she or Jim kept contacts save. The only people they needed to call were memorised, four or five tops. The rest of the time, people called them.

Your Sherlock Holmes is a prick.

K.

Just as she suspected, the reply came through barely a minute later.

Don't tease.

JM.

He called in. He's not what you described.

K.

Dinner reservations at 6pm. Salvadore.

JM.

Katherine found herself smirking down at the small device against her will. He was going to be charming to be around this evening. As an extra cherry on the cake, she may not complain as much. Maybe. For now though, she could go back to spending his money in a much better mood.

She was going to skin the man alive. Not the man in front of her. No, not Mr Salvador. Jim Moriarty. She was going to make him into a skin rug for her walk in wardrobe. He would be the price of dead leather she'd wipe her designer shoes on after walking through mud.

You can imagine her elation upon receiving the news 'Salvador' was not a place to dine. You can picture the look of pure joy on her face when received the contact file through email from Moriarty at half past four. You can dream up just what words were sent to him in reply.

It was a B level client. A difficult one. He'd barely listened to a word she'd said throughout their whole discussion and now it was proving to have been an error on his part because she was irritated. And when she was irritated, tired and frighteningly furious at her other half, it was not a good time to try and barter.

"Five hundred thousand." She repeated for the fourth time, but he was just not getting the hint. Mr Salvador was the type of man, the type of scoundrel, who saw women as the weaker race still. They were intimidating or scary. Obviously, he had never met a woman like Mrs Moriarty.

"Three hundred thousand." A sigh came from a meter to her right. Even Sebastian was growing bored.

"Five hundred thousand. Mr Salvador." If wasn't even as if he couldn't afford it. She'd read his profile, he was a well respected Banker. He was just being a little tight arse who wanted to walk away from the meeting a winner.

Her eyes were lazily narrower, her nails playing with the neck of the empty wine glass which sat in front of her. She was waiting for his manners to kick in and for him to pout her a drink. She hadn't been able to take a soothing sip for ten minutes already.

"You strike a hard bargain Moriarty." The older man sunk back into his seat, relaxed. He still thought he had the upped hand. Why did all men always think they had the upper hand? "I can see how you're so fought after." She was all set for ignoring him until that sentence escaped him. It was just too perfect...he didn't know. Maybe Jim had treated her after all.

He didn't think she was just a woman sent to talk. He didn't think she was just Moriarty's little old wife. He though she was Moriarty. Ooh it was her birthday, it had to be. You see, over the years the sweetest situation she could find herself in was this one. Katherine would show up and all the while, until the very end, the client would think they had got to Moriarty. That they had got to the top and deserved anything they wished for. Nothing was more worth relishing than the look on their face when they discover the truth. Nothing.

Oh he'd made a mistake. Mr Salvador had woke her up. No longer was she bored and begging to go home. She was ready to play, just like a lioness toyed with her prey before the kill.

Katherine sat up, a long smirk spreading across her lips. He grinned at her, thinking she'd fallen for his incorrect compliment. She was going to enjoooooy this one. "Me? Oh no, no." With a feminine giggle, Katherine played with her hands in a giddy fashion. "I'm merely the...messenger." Her voice had become dangerously low and with pursed lips, she looked like a siren. Looking through her lashes at Mr Salvador, his heart sped up but something in him was twisted as well.

He had heard of all the stories to come with the name. People warned him time and time again, not to get involved unless it was absolutely necessary. They warned him of the consequences, the possible complications, the depts. he'd came in confident and so far it had seemed easy. The woman in front of him was the complete opposite to the corrupt mob boss he had expected. But the way her eyes stared a hole in his head now...

"I don't understand, the people who put me in contact..." He was interrupted as a disturbingly wide smile developed from her smirk, not quite reaching her eyes. He wasn't in on the joke, seemingly. "They...they spoke your name. Moriarty. They said you could help." All those calls. All those emails and vague messages. They all spoke of the same name, her name.

"And I can. They didn't lie." Growing impatient, Katherine picked the bottle of red wine up and poured the remaining liquid into her glass.

"This is important." Like all the others before him, he quickly grew stressed and irritated. Good, now he knew how she'd felt for the past hour. "I want to speak with your boss." Her laughter returned. She liked him, this one was funny.

"I'm afraid that's not an option."

"I will not sit here and be negotiated with, by...by some asset of theirs." Not so funny. Her face changed dramatically quick, startling even the sniper who watched her close and listened to them even closer. Her mouth was a straight line, she swallowed hard as her mouth went dry and she just sat there...watching him. His burst of anger shrunk back quicker than the tide, he even avoided her eyes after a second or two.

"Asset?" The air was still. Katherine's chest rose steadily, but quick. She was out of patience. "I am the so-called 'asset' that could see your son killed as payment. Hmm?" Her eyes bore quirked as Mr Salvador's lips were quick to tremble. "I'm the woman who could throw you to the big boys without even uttering your name to them. I'm the-"

"You bitch."

"Do not interrupt me!" He daresent even breathe for the remainder of their meeting. "...I'm the asset, that could tell Moriarty how much you offended me. How small you made his wife feel after he sent her here to help you." The realisation finally dawned on him and just like she knew it would, her lust for power soared. It was better than any high. It was that feeling all over again, just like when she held that smoking gun. "Do I make myself quite clear, Mr Donaldson?"

And then came the bit she despaired, the begging. It was humiliating how quick people turned to begging, so soon after falling from their pedestal. "Oh god. Please, I...I just need this so much."

"Yes I've heard it all before. Now do shut up and stop grovelling." She pulled out her phone, simply to check her missed messages and run over the proposal again. "Six hundred thousand. And considering my earlier contributions and your rudeness, I would consider that a fair deal. Wouldn't you?" Not only that but it was the lowest Moriarty would settle for. He wasn't important enough to lower the price, and any lower the deal would be off.

"Deal." It was a good choice he made, letting this be easy. Or so she thought... "I can transfer the money by next week."

Katherine rolled her eyes. "Not good enough, I only take cash. Card readers are so hard to carry round in a designer handbag." He wanted to hit her, she could see it in his eyes. She'd seen it so many times before.

"I can't. I haven't got that much money. I-"

"Then no deal." Lies. He was lying. She didn't have time for layers. "We don't deal with smalltimers. It's too messy and quite frankly we just don't have the time." Katherine stood, downing the rest of her wine and gathering her things. With a smile, she went to step down from the booth, waving at her loyal bodyguard. "Sebastian."

"Please. I can try and get the money. Two days. Please?" She stopped still, letting him sweat. It was time to ring the big boss.

Katherine typed a number and raised her phone to her eyes, all the while she let her eyes roam freely over Mr Salvador. He could do with easing off the beer, and spending more time outdoors.

'Darling, how's your evening?" Oh she couldn't wait to smother him in his sleep.

"Two days." No time for small talk. Jim made a 'oh' sound on the other end of the phone.

'Do you have him sweating already?'

"Hmm a little, it's sweet."

'Good, good...two days...no more.'

"Of course." Katherine hung up the phone and looked down her nose at the man who, by now, was shaking in a puddle of his own juices. He was disgusting, he wasn't worth any of their time. "You have two days, no more. You know how to find us if you need us." She didn't give him time to answer. Lifting her purse on to her arm, she snarled at Sebastian who stepped up to her side.

"Can you not just take that one out?"

"If I did that for everyone you asked, 90% of Londons population would be executed." Sebastian joked but she could only sigh.

"I don't see your point...would that be bad?" It would just mean there was 90% less people to irritate her.

Seb immediately started shaking his head with a loud laugh. "You're getting worse than the boss." As the left the bar, Katherine stopped and let her jaw drop with mock shock.

"Sebastian! Don't be cruel." Once she was in the car, her head fell back against the head rest. Her bed was calling her name. The way she felt, Moriarty may even get off with being skinned, she'd wait until morning. "Please say it's time to go home."

"It's...not time to go home." Her eyes popped open and in a flash, she was sat up and glaring at Sebastian through the rear view mirror. "Sorry Princess...the boss has one more job for you." He was speaking though his amusement, she could here it. He was next on her list. But first was Jim. Jim...he was seriously pushing his luck.

"He's a dead man walking tonight."

Thankfully the drive was only five minutes, but there was not yet any news on what was about to happen. They had pulled up in front of a tall apartment block and her heart dropped. If he'd set her up with a cleaning job she was going to walk away. Divorce would be on the cards. These days, that type of work was rare but still happened occasionally, she was his best after all.

"Sebastian?" Katherine called out, climbing out the car as quick as she could.

"This way."

He said no more. "Sebastian?" He only walked a few feet and then stopped to wait for her. Once she was by his side he carried on. No one else was with them. He wasn't carrying any supplies and there was no news from Jim. Despite the sniper being there, she was growing ever so slightly nervous.

A long walk through the large, lavish foyer and a ride in the elevator up to the penthouse suite didn't help her settle anymore. Sebastian led the rest of the way and opened the door to the suite, entering a passcode to disable a second lock. She was watching him very carefully, worry and curiosity drowning her thoughts. However a second later, when the door opened, she grinned.

Stood there, waiting with arms wide open in the centre of the living room, was Jim.

"Difficult evening darling?" All to easily, the anger which had been building up for the past four or so hours melted away and she ran to him. As soon as her head lay against his chest, his arms wrapped her up and he laid a kiss on the top of her head. She was too tired to go through a whole argument with him, which she would most likely loose anyway. She just wanted his offered warmth and affection and her bed, their bed.

"Very." The mumble was muffled as her face turned into his neck. "New?" She paused and felt him nod. "And you didn't even ask for my opinion?" Pulling back, Jim pouted and stroked her back.

"It was a surprise. Like it?"

"Love it..." Of what she saw, it was Moriarty's style, no doubt. All grey and black furnishings, but it was lovely. Deceivingly homely. "But why?" They had many houses in London. Admittedly this one surpassed all the others on style and most likely price, but the others were just as close to the city and just as big. The first she'd ever witnessed was not still in his possession, but there were around 3 others.

"You know I like variety." Only because one meant he was a 'sitting duck'. Should one be compromised, Jim liked the idea of just being able to get up and go to another which no one knew about. She had to agree of course, anything which increased their security was a positive. "I thought we could stay here for a few days, save us both driving into the city. After all, you were whining about never seeing me."

"You didn't have to buy us a new apartment for that." Katherine chuckled, allowing his arms to circle her waist as her hands rose and rested on his shoulders.

"Well I did, so get used to it sweetheart. You're going to be sick of these devilishly good looking features by the end of the week."

"Hmm, we will just see about that Mr Moriarty." His lips claimed hers, instantly making her moan against him. She'd done excellently today and they had a lot to talk about, but first he had to put her in the mood for talking and there was only one activity in the world which made his woman curl against him and gossip the night away.

"Go get washed up...I just need to tuck Sebastian in." Jim threw a smirk over her shoulder at the sniper who was stood awkwardly in the doorway, avoiding all eye contact. He tapped her behind to get Katherine sharply on her way in the right direction and he watched her retreating back, the sway of her hips in that tight dress.

When she was out of the room and he heard the tap turn on in the master ensuite, Jim made his way over to Sebastian. All of the charm had been replaced with seriousness and his eyes held that of a shark.

"Anything?"

"Nothing. Not even off the books." Sebastian shook his head, making sure to keep his voice low. In reply, Moriarty nodded slowly and took a second to think. There was no real threat, nothing yet to be concerned about, he could leave them for now.

"Keep this low, you understand? Not a word to the missus."

"Yes, boss." They were all under strict instructions, Mrs Moriarty must not even have her suspicions raised. If she did, heads would roll.

"Get out. I have work to do." That smirk returned and Sebastian shook his head. All tension dropped from the room just like that as Jim began to slug towards the back of the apartment where there bedroom was situated. From the look on his face, you'd think he was looking forward to it. Sex with his own gorgeous, hot wife, what a fucking chore.

"You still calling it work?" Sebastian called out as he turned to leave.

"Goodnight Sebastian."

He heard her giggling before he was out of the house, shrill and full of giddiness. Jim was being himself, Seb could tell purely from her careless laughter and shrieks. He was being...Jim. Not Moriarty. Which was rare. Over the past year he'd physically seen it a handful of times, he knew the amount of times Katherine actually experienced it wasn't much more. But she barely even realised. To her, Jim was always Jim. It was just his mood that fluctuated, but she always found something to love.