Hi everybody! As promised, chapter 49, a bit short, but the break is necessary - basically another cliffhanger. I'll update again today in a few hours or tomorrow ;)

"Hey Mikey," This is ridiculous. Very much so, calling Mycroft Mikey and calling from a police-phone.

"Kiara, where are you?" Of course he'd recognize my voice. But he does sound slightly annoyed at the nickname and I suppress a smirk.

"At the Yard. Listen, you need to come." I try to sound apologetic, like I would if I would be calling someone if I were normal, to fool the officer standing beside me.

"What did you do?"

"They say I shot somebody,"

"Did you? If yes, say no, otherwise whistle slightly."

"No, I didn't! You need to get me out, the DI..."

"Gregory Lestrade?"

"Yep, it wouldn't be good..."

"I'll see what I can do. ID says Johnson?"

"Yeah,"

"Be careful."

"I will be. Thanks, love you." I can almost hear him narrowing his eyes, so I disconnect and turn around to the officer.

"Done, thanks,"

He looks at me with narrowed eyes and I flash him a smile.

"Always a pleasure, talking with polite people..."

Lestrade's POV:

DI Gregory Lestrade's day has been tedious all day long. Gruesome crime scene and then that. A shooter, killing one of the crowd, even more trouble. At least they had their shooter in custody, a girl called Johnson, twenty, according to Donovan. Why does a person, with every opportunity in front of her, destroy everything she could have like that?

The interrogation room is close by and he needs to do it anyway, so he motions the sergeant walking towards the door that he'll do the questioning.

Inside, there is a surprise.

"DI Lestrade." The girl, somebody he met only once, approximately two years ago, is sitting there, confident, amused.

"Miss 'Johnson'," The quotation marks are nearly visible in the air, but the girl just smiles.

"Miss me?" She sounds cocky, very sure of herself.

"Every day. Strange seeing you here, I never thought your father would just let you sit here." Something flickers across her face for a second – is it grief? – but it's gone before he can be sure.

"Well..."

"Anyway. I know for a fact that you are not called Kiara Josephina Johnson and that you're not actually twenty. Care to explain?"

"Everybody needs some fun,"

"Okay, Miss 'Johnson' -"

"Kiara, please."

"Okay, Kiara, I don't think you quite know what you are dealing with exactly. Let's see, there's -"

"A murder charge, attacking a police-officer – honestly, that was two years ago! – resisting arrest, yes I know."

"You forgot about being a suspect in several other murder investigations, thefts and drug-dealing."

"Oh gosh, doesn't sound good..." She doesn't look concerned at all, and Lestrade can't shake a slight feeling of uneasiness. Even though she is Kiara Moriarty, she still is a seventeen year old girl, for god's sake!

"Kiara, did you shoot the bystander?"

"Yes I did, but he wasn't a bystander." It's a definite first for Lestrade. This girl, so very confident, only a suspect because they had seen a red-haired girl, admitting murder straight away.

"Who was he then?" The cooperation of her is outstanding, and Lestrade isn't sure whether he can believe her at all. She is Kiara Moriarty, the daughter of the consulting criminal, after all.

"Sorry, can't tell you that. You'll find out sooner or later, but not now."

"Kiara, you have just admitted killing a man, as well as other charges. Don't you think you should cooperate? You have very many years in prison in front of you."

"No I don't, I am under-age and any psychologist will tell you that I am not mentally stable – ten years? I think less, don't you?" Lestrade's day is getting worse and worse, and he knows that she won't tell him anything else, so he waves to the one-way mirror.

"Take her to the cell, I'll talk to her later again,"

"See you later, Detective Inspector,"

Hopefully rather later than sooner.

The next time Lestrade sees Kiara is an hour later. She is walking through Scotland Yard, and is nearly at the door, when he notices her.

She sees him as well, smirks once and hurries her step. Lestrade can only groan. Of course, she is Jim Moriarty's daughter, but how could she escape so easily? He checks whether his gun is still in the holster, even though he didn't need it in the last hours, he just feels safer with it. Then he follows her, but doesn't alert anybody else. What if somebody really came and got her out? Besides, no-one else knows who she really is. He didn't tell anybody. Something, he isn't sure what, stopped him from the beginning. Maybe sentiment. She had been connected to Sherlock in a way, and he somehow feels sorry for her. It couldn't have been easy, growing up as the daughter of a raging psychopath.

It is already getting dark as he follows Kiara out of the building, along one street, until she turns left into a small alley once more. Looking inside it, he can't see her, but she must have gone along here, so he walks around the next corner. Big mistake.