Chapter 5

It took me a year. 365 days of convincing Jim to trust me again. By that time, Sebastian and I are best friends. It helps that he loves the Script. Jim reluctantly let me live, because he said I could be his pet. I told him that he was to suck my ass, because I don't want to be his little pet. Jim held a knife to my throat, and it was Sebastian that told him to let me live. I owe him that.

One day, I was going to the kitchen to get some cereal for breakfast. I was sleepy and wasn't really paying attention to the surroundings. I walked right into a very naked Sebastian and Jim. Jim was pinned underneath Sebastian against the black granite kitchen counter. Clearly, they were doing it. "Oh god." I said.

They both turned to me. "Oh, don't mind me, sorry. I just wanted breakfast. Continue your little..." I said and hurried to the pantry. Gross. Get a room. I grabbed a bowl, a spoon, some cereal and a carton of milk. I went away from the two of them quickly, determined to not let the grossness of them get to me.

To be honest, I'm happy that they were happy together. Sebastian's down-to-earth yet still psychotic ways can soften Jim's inner psycho. I'm glad Sebastian finally confessed to Jim, from the looks of it. Jim needs someone like Sebastian in his life. His anchor.

"Can you guys focus?" I asked, exasperated. Sebastian and Jim ignored me. The two were silently making out with their eyes, and it infuriates me! We were trying to discuss the pool tricks when they both zoned out. "Next time, let me do all the work then." I grumbled.

"Pardon?" Sebastian broke their emo convo.

"Nothing. Go back to your little make out session." I muttered. I was feeling very grumpy today.

"Aw, c'mon, Sherry! Live-in-one!" Jim said, grinning.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"I've got an idea! But I'll need Sherry's help." Sebastian threw an arm around me. "Right, Jim, we're going out!"

"What, me and you?" I asked. He nodded. "Won't Jim be lonely? And where to?"

"We have a little special something to do." Sebastian answered with a wink. Jim was pouting and Sebastian pecked him on the cheek before ushering me out with him.

"What's the occasion, Bass?" I asked him as we walked the streets of London. It was evening, the Sun already setting.

"You're a girl."

"Um, yeah. The last time I checked." I said, totally not sure where this is going.

"Funny. You're funny. Anyway, I want to do something special for Jim." What?

"Okay..."

"And I need advice."

"Well, ordinary couples go on dates like restaurants and movies. But you're not like them." I quickly added, noting his face. "You should plan something fun. Something you both would enjoy." I said. "But no killing."

"Hm." He said. I looked around. We're in Baker Street. We've walked quite a distance. I saw a mob of paparazzi outside Speedy's cafe. Wait, not Speedy's. It was the flat next to the cafe. 221B. What happened over there?

Bass must've seen me staring when two men walked out of the flat. One was wearing a long coat with a blue scarf. Wait. But that's Sherlock. The man next to him was shorter, with sandy blonde hair. They both had to squeeze away from the crowd gathering. "Sh-"

"Don't let him see you!" Bass pulled me into a random shop. It was a kebab restaurant. No one was in. The workers were indifferent to our appearance.

"But that was my-"

"Yes, I know. Calm down." He said.

"Why-? Is he gay?" I asked myself. I realized I said it out loud. "Uh, why not? Why can't I see him?"

"You don't know?" Bass asked, his eyebrows knotted together. "It's all over the news!" What is?

"Yeah, well Jim forbid me to read the papers. And I wasn't to look anything up online. I'm not up-to-date with London these days." I huffed.

"C'mon!" He pulled me by the arm and we headed for a small store which sold newspapers. He bought the Daily Mirror and gave it to me. On the front page itself, a picture of Sherlock and his short friend was the headliner. The Consulting Detective and His Blogger. Consulting what? I didn't read the whole thing.

"Oh my god." Realization dawned on me. "Jim's targeting the only consulting detective in the world. Sherlock is the consulting detective."

"Jim never told you?" Bass asked me. I shook my head. Shock turns into anger as I gripped the paper a little tightly and stormed out of the store. The devil lies, and hell will be raised

"JAMES MORIARTY!" I bellowed as I entered his mansion, Bass following close behind. Jim was watching an episode of Doctor Who. He turned to look at me, suprised. Good.

"What is this?!" I slammed the paper down on the coffee table. He gingerly picked it up. "Oh." was all he said.

"Bass?" Jim's eyes searched for him. Bass just shrugged. "You bought her the paper?"

"She saw her brother. She would've gone to him and she could've destroyed our plan."

"And this is the right thing to do?!" Jim yelled. "Sorry. I'm sorry, Bass. Go to our room. Please. This is something I need to discuss with Sherry alone." Bass huffed and left us together. I crossed my arms over my chest.

"You lied." I said flatly.

"I didn't want to hurt you."

"Oh, right. Because when Sherlock dies, it'll be my fault."

"I'm sorry. I had to keep it a secret. I needed you to trust me." His voice pleading.

"If there's one thing I hate, Jim, is being kept in the dark." I growled. I don't know, and I hate not knowing. "I don't expect you to understand. But for once, can you please be truthful to me?"

"If I told you who it was, would you have trusted me?"

"No! Sherlock is my brother. He's always been there for me. And you can't just expect me to forget my whole relationship with my own brother. He's my family."

"Clearly he doesn't think so." Jim handed the paper back to me. "Did you even read the whole article?" He asked, slightly annoyed.

"Um...no?"

"I hope you change your mind." He said. I started to read the article.

The only consulting detective in the world and his blogger. The 221B boys made quite a name for themselves as they managed to solve a very difficult case that even the Scotland Yard can't fathom. John Watson writes about their adventures in his personal blog, The Personal Blog of Dr. John Watson and Sherlock Holmes' blog, The Science of Deduction. This is their first case together. John Watson even took it to name the case as A Study in Pink.

I stopped reading. "You started the whole game without me?" I asked Jim, my voice a tiny squeak.

"Yes. But don't worry, we'll-" He stopped mid-sentence when we heard Bass shout and the sound of a gunshot. With one look, we both raced up the stairs to find Bass.

"Seb-" I called out but Jim clamped a hand over my mouth. He put a finger on his lips, signalling me to be quiet. I nodded and we split up, trying to find the source of commotion. We tread lightly on our toes, careful to not make a noise.

I saw David slumped unconscious, on the floor. I kneeled to make sure he wasn't dead. I could still feel a pulse. Okay. David's fine. I inched closer to Jim's room. I heard someone inside. I grabbed the nearest object that I could turn into a weapon, like how Bass taught me. Great, I'm using a paperweight as a deadly weapon. I gripped it tightly, ready to swing it at the intruder's face.

Someone grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me aside, knocking my head against the wall. I was dazed momentarily. The intruder must've gone already. I blinked rapidly, trying to make the black spots dancing around my pupils disappear. I touched my head and when I pulled away, blood was on my fingers. Great.

"Bass!" I heard Jim cry out. I shakily got up and staggered to Jim's general direction. He was sobbing. I kneeled down next to him. Bass looked peaceful. He had a single bullet wound to the chest. He lost a lot of blood. He was pale, his lips in a small smile. But his eyes were empty, as a normal dead person's eyes would be.

"Please, Bass. Don't do this to me." Jim cried. He cradled Bass' head, trying so hard not to break. "Bass, I love you, please don't go." My heart ached for Jim. I've never had someone I love taken away from me in a cruel way, so I'm not gonna pretend to understand him.

I was about to leave Jim alone when I saw something fluttering. I snatched it. It was a note. Love from Baker Street. No. No way. "Jim?" I shook his shoulder. "Read this note I found."

His eyes scanned the note quickly. He looked up and crumpled the note. He stormed off to a small room. It was his target practice room. I hurried after him, in case he was about to hurt himself. He loaded a gun and kept shooting at the target, without a moment's pause. Each bullet hit the center. He was angry. Angry, scared, depressed. And that wasn't good.

"Tell me, Sherry." He rounded to me. "Is this a good enough reason to kill Sherlock Holmes?" I hesitated. Determined, I nodded. We need to avenge Bass' death.

"Sherlock will pay." Jim said grimly.

"Then so be it."