Chapter 13

"Sherry, sweetie, are you okay?" Jim asked me, a concerned look on his face. I was having some sickness, and I've been puking a lot lately. I waved him off as I hurried to the bathroom once more to puke. The bathroom was very pukey-smelling, and I was feeling terrible. Jim kneeled down next to me as he rubbed my back soothingly. "My pet, you've been throwing up a dozen times already today. Do you need to go to the hospital?"

After retching, I answered, "I...I don't t-think so..."

"Darling, I'm worried about you." He said. I was trembling slightly, due to the weird feeling I had in my stomach, and also the way he rubs my back ever so softly, like he wanted to sooth my pain and also please me immensely. "What's wrong? Darling, you know you can tell me." He continued.

To be honest, I have no idea why on earth am I so sick today. I mean, I'm almost never sick, other than the occasional fever that I'd get. This is the sickest I've ever been in my entire 20 years of my life. And I was very worried. Maybe I should go to the hospital...

Suddenly, my phone rang. "Hell-o?" I said upon answering. I went into the bedroom, with Jim trailing behind me. I lay down on the bed, Jim plopping down beside me. He was kissing my neck ever so slowly. Oh my god that feels good.

"Hello, Sherrelyn." Unfamiliar male voice. Very quiet on the other line. Not much to go on.

"Who's this on the line?" Like the dumb girl I am. God. I should know that suspicious men that wants to kill every female protagonists in movies are not going to answer such an obvious question.

"I am in need of your help." Okay, now he sounds German. Hm... I can't place the accent!

"What do you want?" Jim had abandoned my neck and started rubbing painstakingly, slowly, at the insides of my inner thigh. I was biting back a moan, so that Mr German on the phone won't go batshit crazy on the phone.

"I want you to go and retrieve a diamond for me."

"Um, what if I don't?"

"I will kill your boyfriend."

"What?!" I sat up, nearly socking Jim in the chin. Jim raised an eyebrow at me. I made a gesture, which we would make whenever we were having someone important on the phone.

"I see I have caught your attention."

"You're not wrong." I answered bitterly. No one threatens the life of my Jim.

"You will retrieve the diamond from multi-millionaire James Worthington, the owner of Worth Tech." Oh shit. Basically, James Worthington is a man who's really important, and an extreme jerk. Well, as much as I heard from my friends who are spies working in his company. Apparently, he was making weapons for a war. I thought it was bullshit, until they let me look at the files. Unfortunately, we had not enough evidence to pin James Worthington and get him arrested. Damn Scotland Yard! And some idiot named Sally Donovan was being extremely stubborn at it too.

"Alright, send me the details." The man disconnected.

"Who was that?" Jim asked, nibbling at my ear.

I laughed and swatted him away with my hand before answering. "Someone wants me to get this diamond from James Worthington." Jim's smile faltered. Uh oh. No one could do that, make Jim stop smiling. Well, his pupils were dilated.

"James Worthington? No, you are not going!" He was pale. I guess James and Jim had some bad blood sometime in the past.

"Jim, that man said he'd kill you if I didn't!"

"And we both know I'm very hard to kill." He smirked. I cracked a small smile, but it wasn't helping.

"I just don't want to lose you again, you know? It was hard then. I don't want to wake up thinking that I lost you because I was being stubborn and not helping that man." I said. He took my hand in his and brought it up to his lips. He kissed my hand in a very sensual way, if that was even possible.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily." I laughed and we kissed. Why should I worry? I mean, he's already promised that's he's not leaving, or going...

But of course, that didn't stop me from sneaking out of the house like a ninja, wearing all black in a really tight tracksuit, like Black Widow, but a little weirder. I was also wearing a hoodie, because it's cold and walking around in a tracksuit in September isn't such a great idea. Why am I even wearing a bloody tracksuit?! I'm no spy.

Anyway, I went to the Worth Tech building, in the heart of London. Not literally, but...you get the point. I managed to sneak inside the building, as the guard was asleep. I had to not look at the general direction of the CCTVs installed in the building. The man had given me instructions on how to get into the vault, which was where the diamond was located.

I had easily gotten in, and had the diamond with me, when the alarms started blaring and the door slammed shut, locking me inside the vault. I started to panic, because well, I am trapped in the middle of a burglary that I committed. How did Bilbo Baggins ever manage to keep his cool the whole time he was with Smaug?

Guards swarmed into the vault, each of them with a gun pointed right at me. I was doomed, and I knew it. They had Scotland Yard over to arrest me. Goddamnit.

I was sitting alone, in an interrogation room, for nearly two hours now. DI Greg Lestrade was supposed to interrogate me, but he had some problems of his own and now I am stuck here. Suddenly the door was opened and the Detective Inspector entered with a man. No, wait that's not...

"I am Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade, and this is-" The salt and pepper haired man introduced himself and was cut off by...

"Lestrade, we have met. Millions of times. She's my sister." Sherlock answered flatly. I wasn't that shocked to see him frankly. I was amused. Jim came back, Sherlock came back, the Game wasn't really over yet, was it?

The shock on Lestrade's face was so hilarious, I started laughing like a mad person. "Of course you're shocked, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have laughed! Hi, Greg Lestrade, I'm Sherry. Sherrelyn Holmes." I smiled and stuck out my hand for a handshake. He eyed me warily and then shook it.

"You never told me, Sherlock." Lestrade narrowed his eyes at Sherlock. Sherlock said nothing.

"Oh don't bother, Greggie, is it okay if I call you Greggie?" Before he could answer, I continued. "He's never told anyone about me, or our other brother."

"Mycroft?" Greg squinted at the two of us. I suspect something more in this...Greg and Mycroft? Wow.

"No, not the man who's literally the British Government! I meant Sherrinford. The eldest. He's really nice and loving, like the brother I actually had but didn't know of." I said. "You know, he's living with me now, in Jim's house." I said carefully, trying not to drop hints of Jim being alive. "Our lives were great actually, thank you for asking, Sherlock." I said, annoyed.

"Can we get on this interrogation already?" Greg Lestrade asked, exasperated. When neither Sherlock nor I said anything, he said, "Thank you." in a huffed way. "Now, Miss Holmes-"

"Actually I'd rather go with Mrs Moriarty right now." I smirked. Oh that got them both good. Sherlock and Lestrade were shocked, appalled, taken aback, surprised.

"And by Moriarty, you don't actually mean Jim Moriarty...right?" Lestrade asked me, after a moment of awkward silence.

"You were tortured by him!" Sherlock suddenly snapped. "You were hurt, he's hurt you, and now you've married him."

"Oh, no, we're not married! I mean, I adopted his name because I didn't want to be stuck with boring old Holmes anymore, now that Sherlock here, made a name for himself." I said, enjoying this little game. "Oh, but we are in love."

To my surprise, Sherlock laughed, a genuine laugh. "Is this really my sister? Surely she'd know that Moriarty was playing with her-"

"Hang on. You said-" Lestrade furrowed his eyebrows.

"Sherrelyn would never let herself be played by a psychopath in Westwood!"

"But that's impossible!" Lestrade yelled. I'm enjoying this, really. They're so full of themselves. It's adorable. Ordinary people are adorable.

"Yes it's possible, she can fall in love with the bloody psychopath and he never cared about her!" Sherlock grabbed Lestrade's shoulders and shook Lestrade violently. "It happens!"

"No, you idiot!" Lestrade yelled, louder this time. Sherlock fell quiet. No one ever called him an idiot before. It actually shocked me. "She said 'oh, but we are in love'! In present tense!"

Oh fucking shit. I slipped up big time. I fucked up big time. I fucked up so much and I am so dead. Doesn't matter who kills me, I'm definitely dead.

"YES. Yes! God Lestrade, you idiot why didn't you think of it?! Yes, Sherrelyn, is he still walking around London in his Westwood suit, killing people?" Sherlock asked, his face really scrunched up in concentration.

"What?! Um..."

"Well?" Lestrade asked, impatient.

Before I could say anything, Sherlock grabbed my face in his hands and said to me, "You're pregnant with his child." and left me and Lestrade together in the room, the door slamming behind him.

Oh my god. I'm fucking pregnant.