Chapter seventeen: Moriarty

A sharp slap to my cheek brought me from the sleeplike unconscious state I was in. I moaned and slurred. "Sherlock?"

"No." the annoying, Irish voice of James Moriarty caused my eyes to fly wide open. I was tied to a metal hoop in the ceiling above me. My legs were tied to two heavy pieces of lumber, forcibly spread wide apart. I shook my head as I tugged against my bonds. Horror washed over me as I realized that my dress had been torn. I looked down and found that someone had taken a knife and slashed my dress from the waist down to my hem. I tried to pull my legs closed, but I couldn't. I looked up to see Moriarty, sitting in a chair a few feet away from me, smirking darkly at me. "Where is it?"

I stared at him in horror. "What?"

"The papers." He demanded as he stood up and walked over to me. "The papers in your bracelet."

I looked towards my wrist to find it gone. "Where's my mother's bracelet?" I demanded, hoping to turn the tables on him.

"Well, it wasn't even your mother's," he stated as he leaned over me. "so, no concern of yours. Now, where are," he repeated patiently. "the papers? I opened up the bracelet and the papers weren't inside. Now, where are they?"

I shook my head. "I don't have them."

He rolled his eyes. "Aren't ordinary people adorable?" I looked at him in confusion. A cold hand on my inner thigh caused me to jump. His brow arched in curiosity. "Still jumpy? Sherlock hasn't broken you in yet?"

I glowered at him. "What my husband chooses to do with me isn't any of your concern." Some strength, possibly from anger, surged in me. "Does everyone believe that he is totally incapable of feeling emotions?"

He chuckled. "Well, I'm glad the two of you two had been spending time making babies together. It'll be so much easier to burn the heart out of him when he collects your dead body." His words did make me shiver and feel sick. I had no idea what he did to me, however, as near as I could tell, only my dress had been torn and I hadn't been hurt in any way at all. "You know, it would have been rather fun, for both of us," he suddenly, his eyes studying me. "but you had to go and fall…for the side of the angels."

"Well," I sneered back. "the sides of the demons tend to get caught quite often and it's the side of the angel's that always are victorious."

"No one ever gets to me." He sneered.

"Sherlock will." I smirked at him, preparing to put on my greatest act. "You know why? Because you took his most beloved possession. His wife!"

"Who he doesn't love." He laughed. "God, are you really so pathetic that you'd attempt to force me to believe that he'd actually care for you?" His words did ring true and I looked away from him for a moment. A smack caused me to look back at Moriarty; he held a riding crop in his hand. "Did I tell you, that this is Sherlock's favorite weapon of choice?"

"Why'd you do this?" I demanded. "All of this for a stupid diamond?"

"Actually, the return of it would have set me for life, but I prefer the fun for thrill of the hunt." He chuckled. "You should have seen your mother. In spite of what your father says, she took that poison willingly. Thought the whole secret would die with her if she died."

"You murdered her!"

"She made her own choice. Thought the truth would die with her, but it never does." His eyes narrowed. "I suppose you were present for when your father died. We never found the street rat that supposedly tipped off Mycroft Holmes. Your stepmother was sure it was you who screamed."

"And she was right." I spat. "I heard everything! What does she have to do with this anyway?"

"We grew up in the streets together. The promise of a tremendous fortune was too much for her to pass up. she should be joining us later," he smirked. "I believe she expressed an interest in slitting your cheekbones to your ear."

"You're going to burn in Hell for everything that you did Moriarty!" I shouted. "And so will she!"

he drew back the crop and suddenly whacked me hard between my legs! The pain was unlike anything I'd ever experienced and I screamed. Moriarty laughed. "Well! You can scream! No wonder Sherlock keeps you around." I couldn't wipe my eyes as tears formed; I could only grip the ropes that held me suspended. "Sherlock took the papers, which tell me where the location of the Dubonnet diamond is. I want it! And you better tell me now, otherwise, I shall be forced to force their location from you in any way possible."

"You can't have it!" I shouted in his face. "I don't know where it is, Sherlock didn't tell me and I'm certain that he's returned it to the rightful owners by now! In addition, even if he had told me, I wouldn't tell you! So you've lost!"

"I'd say it's more like your loss!" he shouted in my face before removing his coat, dropping it to the floor. "You and Sherlock better have been making babies, for it'll be the only thing that'll make your violation more bearable." The blood drained out of my face and I bit my lip to keep from screaming. I couldn't lose my virginity to Moriarty before dying a painful death at his hands.

"He will be here!" my voice trembled with slight uncertainty. Sherlock had let me down before and I hoped this time he'd be here on time.

"yeah. I've been planning your death, for a while now." He studied me with a smirk. "Sherlock Holmes's wife. You're going to die in a special way." He sneered as he stepped towards me. "I've got a dog in the other room and that hasn't eaten for two days now." He stepped towards me, his eyes laughing. "I shall enjoy watching him tear your body to pieces, after you've been covered in a variety of greases." His eyes danced insanely. "And he's going to rip you to shreds after, I've had you."

"Sherlock!" I screamed in a panic as Moriarty stepped towards me. "Sherlock please!" It was then that the door splintered open. Moriarty spun around as Sherlock, Mycroft and a dozen other police officers entered the room. The look of shock on his face was priceless. Relief flooded me and my heart surged in my chest at the familiar sight of him.

Sherlock's eyes were blazing furious as he looked at Moriarty. Without even blinking, Sherlock shot Moriarty, in the shoulder and Moriarty stumbled backwards away from me! He probably would have shot Moriarty in a more lethal place than his shoulder, had Mycroft not jostled him.

"Mycroft!" he shouted.

Mycroft took the gun from Sherlock. "For God's sake, don't kill him in front of witnesses Sherlock." Sherlock strode toward Moriarty, grabbed a hold of his shirt and threw him against a wall. Sherlock drew his arm back to punch him, but Mycroft caught him. "Not now! Go see to your wife! You can kill him later."

Then, all the fury faded away into concern as he saw me. "Sherlock." I called him gently. "Do you mind getting me down from here?"

"No." He pulled out a knife from his pocket. "I want him dead Mycroft," Sherlock snapped as he walked towards me. "You will see to it or I will kill him."

"I'm fairly certain that can be arranged," Mycroft said dryly. "in a few hours though Sherlock."

Sherlock was silent as he cut the ropes securing my feet. "Did he hurt you?" He demanded as he straightened up, if I didn't know any better, I'd say he was actually worried. "Did he rape you?"

"No." Sherlock's eyes examined me; they traveled along the entire length of my body. "He hit…me with…a crop a few…times. But, I'm fine." The moment my hands were free, I threw my arms around his neck. I held onto to him tightly. "I knew you'd come."

Sherlock surprised me by wrapping his arms around my waist. "I've got you, you're alright." His tone was soft as he held me close to him, his hand smoothing my hair as I cried softly in his arms. His lips might have brushed my forehead, but I was too upset for that idea to register in my mind.

"Well, I'll be damned." Moriarty sneered as the police handcuffed him. "Sherlock is in love with you after all."

I didn't say anything and neither did Sherlock. we needed each other and for this moment, we allowed ourselves to take liberties. I ran my hands through his curls, closed my eyes and just breathed in his scent and taking in his strength.

"I'm here." He assured me quietly. "You're with me."

"Take me home," I begged him. "please."

He nodded. "Alright."

When he lifted me up into his arms, I frowned and looked at him. "What are you doing?"

"I'm taking you home." He stated. "Like you asked."

"But," I floundered for words. "I-I can walk."

"I don't want you walking. Don't argue with me, just close your eyes and we'll be home before you know it."

Sorry about the delay, I had a lot of work to do.

Lady Gisbourne 15: He's gotten himself into a controlled situation. I thought it was a bit quick myself, then I glanced at 'I won't send roses' and their first kiss was in the 9th chapter and by chapter 13, they were involved together. But in this story, they still have a way to go, especially if Sherlock decides to behave himself.