A/N: Let the games begin... I also apologize for the delay in this chapter. It won't happen again. :]
A WEEK LATER:
Trial of the century. That's what all of the tabloids had taken to calling it. Even OK magazine had done an article about it. All week, John had made sure I had been out of sight of the public eye. Sherlock had been doing his best not to talk about Jim either. But my mind could never be taken off him. Every waking second I wanted him next to me. Telling me that everything would be alright. We'd been away from each before, of course we had. That's what brought this whole situation on. My need to be near danger and Jim's need to cause it. Some nights, I would lie awake, thinking about what lay ahead for us.
"Don't rush me I'm Pregnant."
Today wasn't a good day. I'd burnt my toast. My tea-cup had smashed and I was sure the baby had kicked me enough times. Currently, I was holding onto Sherlock as we left 221B. John swung the door open and pushed away all of the crowding press. The flashes were bright and blinding to say the very least. The Bentley awaiting was courtesy of Mycroft. I guess the Wife of a Criminal has to arrive in style. God, this day couldn't get any worse. In a very short ten minutes, we arrived at the court. There seemed to be even more press here than back at Baker Street. Sherlock helped me out of the car and led me up to the building. Inside of the ostentatious lobby, Mycroft stood waiting. A small smile tugging at his thin lips.
"Good Morning Mrs Moriarty. As you probably remember, I told you that you would be called as a witness." I stared up at Mycroft and gulped. I'd totally forgotten about that. Sighing, I nodded but John wasn't having any of it.
"Mycroft, we have a very heavily pregnant woman. Do you really think it's necessary for her to be called as a witness? Against her own husband?" He shouted, trying his best not to attract attention. Mycroft shifted slightly and stood straighter,
"I don't make the rules John. Now, we best get moving. Don't want to keep them waiting."
THE TRIAL:
"I CALL JULIET MORIARTY TO THE STAND."
Cautiously, I climbed up to the stand and gazed upon my audience. I then turned to face Jim. He still looked the same. Same hair slicked back. Different Westwood suit. Our eyes locked and we gave each other supportive smiles. However, I had to tear my eyes away from my husband to face the Judge.
"Miss Harrison, please can you state what your relationship is like with Mr Moriarty." I tired to stand a little straighter,
"My name is no longer Harrison, your honour. It is Moriarty. I met Jim whilst I was on holiday in Dublin. It was a couple of years before the pool incident. We had, a connection. We could be ourselves."
"Did Mr Moriarty tell you about what his business was?" The Judge questioned. I smiled,
"At first no. He was quite, reserved about it. But when I finally got it out of him, I didn't shy away. No, I fell in love. At that point in my life, I craved danger." From beside the judge, I could see the Jury whispering to each other.
"And what about Mr Holmes? He is your best friend, yes? What did he think of the relationship?" Sighing, I took a quick glance up at Sherlock then focused back on the Judge,
"I never told Sherlock. Due to the circumstances, I just couldn't tell him. And it really didn't help that they were mortal enemies. But throughout, I never intended to hurt either. Sherlock and James are my life. I love them. When Sherlock did find out, I thought he would kill me. Although, surprisingly, he didn't. I can see in his eyes that he doesn't approve of my relationship. It kills me to know that my best friend is hurting inside." A single tear rolled down my cheek. I wiped it away, refusing to appear weak. The almighty Judge nodded along with my statement and rested on the palm of his hand,
"I see. Well, it seems we have some questions from the jury. If you wouldn't mind answering them also, Mrs Moriarty?" I shook my head politely,
"Of course not. Go ahead." So then it started. One by one, the members stood asking questions about Jim and our life together. Some pushing the boundaries, others choosing the simpler option. It all seemed to be going fine until the very last question. I'd kept back the tears until then. To be honest I should've seen it coming... The man stood up. He had short, scruffy hair and his suit was almost unfitting for his figure. Trying to stifle down my amusement, I prepared myself for the following question.
"Mrs Moriarty. During your time with the accused, did you ever wonder what your parents would've thought of their daughter marrying a homicidal psychopath? I'm sure they would be disgusted that their nearest and dearest was whoring herself out to the worlds biggest crook." He sneered in my direction. The court silenced itself in a in-audible hush. All eyes, including Jim's, moved onto me. I never talked about my parents. I couldn't. The thing is, they were murdered. The killer was never caught. Sherlock and John had tried to look into it, but found no evidence. That's when I had first met the duo. They had been so caring and considerate. They had been good people and this man had no right to bring them into the dispute. I clenched my fists beside me, trying my very best not to scream,
"How dare you? How dare you bring my parents into this? And for your information, I am no whore. Oh no. I'm not a whore. Your honour, I am many things. However, I am no whore." I practically screamed across the room. "Do you want me to tell you the truth? Do you? My parents died at the hands of a cold blooded murderer and all you lot could do was sit on your arses! Pretending to have cases when you didn't really. I'm not stupid, I know when I'm being duped. You, my friend, are not worthy enough to speak of their names. And what would they think? You know, I don't know. But think about this, I'm pregnant. What am I supposed to do if my husband is sent to prison? How am I to cope? Do none of you feel any remorse in those ordinary bodies of yours?" My voice echoed around the room. Tears gushed down my face, staining my shirt and cardigan. I felt a hand on the small of my back. Turning, I saw John. He smiled softly at me and helped me down from the stand. Court was called to a break and John & I exited for some fresh air. John sat me down on the nearest bench.
"I'm so sorry." He said softly. I grabbed hold of his hand and gave it a slight squeeze,
"Don't apologize John. I should've known that a question like that would've arose. My answer didn't help though." John started to rub circles on my back,
"You sounded brilliant though. Your parents would be proud, honestly, they would. No one has guts like you do Jules. Not even Sherlock-" I held my hand up to stop John as Mary started to run down the steps towards us.
"John! Jules! They've come up with a result." She yelled over the passing traffic. I gave John a teary stare and raised myself from the wooden bench. Mary placed herself next to me, John joined also. Both took a hold of each hand and Mary held the door open. "Just remember. No matter what the result is. John and I are here for you. Ok, remember that."
THE FINAL RESULT:
The three of us arrived quickly and took our seats in the viewing box. Sherlock noticed our arrival and intertwined his hand with mine. I sent him a warm gaze and he returned it in kind. Abruptly, the Judge lifted himself upwards and turned towards the Jury,
"And you have your result?" He bellowed. The man who had asked me the fatal question arose. His face grew a large sickening smile and turned to face the Judge,
"We do, your honour." There was a long pause and the juror took a deep breath. "We find the accused, GUILTY."
Screaming out in horror, I raced up from my seat and leaned over the balcony. Jim looked up in my direction and gave me the smallest of smiles. The Judge then nodded and spun to face Jim,
"James Moriarty, you are GUILTY of the following charges." Then the Judge went on to list Jim's crimes. The whole time, Jim never left my gaze. "Your sentence is still an on-going decision. It is now in the hands of the British Government. However, you are GUILTY. Take him." Two rough looking officers grabbed Jim's shoulders and as they were about to drag him around he spoke for the first time.
"I love you." He said sadly, almost in-audible. I leaned forward and began to cry harder,
"I love you too. Please. No. Jim, I love you. No." Then in a flash, Jim was out of sight. Sherlock pulled me gently away from the edge and held me close to him. I stood there with the detective, wishing that this was a nightmare. Hoping that I would wake up any minute and still have Jim stood next to me. However, he was gone. There had to be some way to get him free, there had to be surely. Suddenly, a voice broke my train of thought,
"My, what a day this has been." Breaking away from Sherlock, I turned slowly on my heels. There, stood Mycroft. A smug look plastered across his face.
"You! This is what you wanted, isn't it? Jim get's sent away and Juliet goes insane? Is that what you planned, Mycroft?" Mycroft lowered his gaze towards me and scowled,
"Oh! How alike you and Sherlock are. I can see why Jim wanted to play with you." I lunged forwards and slapped the man hard across the face. He raised a hand to his cheek and deepened his scowl.
"Jim never played with me, Mycroft. Never!" I was angry. I wanted to kill Mycroft then and there. "Don't try to plant things into my mind now. It won't work. I will get Jim back. I promise you, I will get Jim back." Mycroft smiled and pointed towards my large bump,
"Whilst your pregnant? Really? Jim is an asset to us now. We'll get what we want and then decide what to do later. But you're never going to see him again Juliet. I apologize for not telling you earlier, but, Jim is ours now. He's a villain by the devils law and your his angel. To bad you couldn't save him." With that, Mycroft saunted off into the distance and out of the docks. I looked around me. John stood with Mary, watching my breakdown intensely. They wanted to do something, I could tell. But I'm broken, it's too late. I should've let go but nope, I kept hanging on. Hope was still there, it had always been there. There was no way I could loose it now. But, what was I supposed to do? Right now, I was too tired to think. My mind was clouded with thoughts and feelings.
"Take me home Sherlock." I said up to the detective. He nodded and lead me away. Only time would tell if I came up with an idea. But I knew, walking out of the docks, one thing was certain. Mycroft had to go.
A/N: Poor Juliet. The next chapter will have a time jump in it to get the pregnancy moving, so be prepared for some REAL DRAMA. Let me know what you thought. It means a lot. :]
