A/N: My alternative ending to "The Great Game" incorporating my OC, Jackie Holmes.

"I will burn the heart out of you..."

…

"Sorry, boys! I'm sooo changeable!"

...

"But then, everything I have to say has probably already crossed your mind."

"Then my answer has probably crossed yours..."

[End of Series 1, Episode 3, "The Great Game"]

Eyes narrowed, the two arch-nemeses faced off along the length of the swimming pool. Sherlock kept his weapon steadfastly trained upon the jacket of explosives lying midway between them. John held his breath behind him, his heart already racing from the coursing of adrenaline that had been pumping in him all day.

The silence drew out, until...

"I don't think you want to do that, Sherlock."

The incipient malice in Moriarty's voice was no less for it's barely whispered tone.

Sherlock didn't deign to reply, his lips only thinning further, the glint in his eyes becoming only more determined, until...

Just for an instant, Moriarty flicked his eyes upward, and... was it a nod? John craned his neck around Sherlock's rigid figure to make sure.

There was a faint squeak at the opposite end of the pool, that of a door swinging open. A single yellow light glowed within and as John strained his eyes to look, he could make out the silhouette of someone sitting in a chair.

"I told you I could burn the heart out of you."

The voice of the reader held barely a tremble, but was dry with suppressed fear.

Sherlock's head whipped around, his eyes widening, his face growing, if possible, even paler. John's mouth was simply hanging open.

"Did you think I was joking?"

All at once, Moriarty, his snipers, all seemed to be forgotten as the two men took off at a dead run around the pool. But coming closer to it only made it more real.

Just within the old locker room doorway, a young girl was strapped securely to a high back chair. It didn't take long to guess why she was sitting frozen in place, she was covered in explosives. At a rough estimate, John figured there was twice enough explosive on her than there had been on any of the other victims.

Except that this wasn't just any victim.

This was any father's worst nightmare come true.

The girl sitting strapped in her own death-trap was Jackie.

"Careful, Sherlock!"

Moriarty's own voice this time sounded across the pool. He hadn't even moved to arrest their flight.

"I rigged her out in something special. It'll go off if you so much as touch it. See? I told her to be careful where she places her fingers."

Sherlock skidded to a halt in front of her, searching desperately for a defusing system. A big countdown clock strapped to her chest gave them a time of fifteen minutes.

Jackie's face was drained of all blood and she looked drawn. John realised she had probably been kept locked up for a couple of days now atleast.

Sherlock had not stopped his visual search since he'd seen her, but had not said a word yet.

Jackie was bravely holding back her tears and though John could see that she had been similarly outfitted to relay Moriarty's dictated spiels, much as he and all the other victims had been, she was raising her chin defiantly and gazing out beyond her father and him to face her captor.

"If you hurt me even the tiniest bit, Professor Moriarty, I can promise you this. My father will end you."

Her voice rang out with all her conviction in her hero.

Sherlock looked up, and just for a moment, their eyes met.

"Jackie..." he choked out.

Moriarty's laugh was chilling.

"Your faith in your father is adorable, little girl. But I don't think he's going to be able to save you this time!"

"Daddy?"

Jackie's eyes searched those of her father's for courage, for hope. To her infinite surprise, all she found was desperation and shock and... fear.

For the very first time, Jackie saw her father truly afraid and for the first time, something like a lump of ice settled in her stomach.

Sherlock scrabbled around the chair on his knees, careful not to touch anything sensitive. The inexorable timer continued to count down the minutes remaining of his daughter's life. John looked on, his own heart sinking under the weight of the helpless dread he felt for his friend and his daughter. Moriarty, continued to pace the other end of the pool, watching like a sharply dressed panther.

"Daddy!"

Jackie's voice held the whip of desperate urgency despite being as hushed as she could make it.

"Please! You can turn it off, can't you? I need you to do this for me."

"I'm... trying...!"

Beads of sweat stood out on Sherlock's forehead as he ran every possible combination of the wires through his head to figure out which would work. He couldn't risk even a chance of getting it wrong, not with Jackie's life at stake!

"Use your mind palace! You must have it in there, Daddy! You've got everything!"

Alas! Sherlock was only human. And being human, his brain's capacity was limited. Some things had to be deleted to make way for other, more important bits of knowledge while others he perhaps hadn't come to assimilate yet. Defusing Moriarty's lethal bomb appeared to fall in the latter category.

"I...I'm sorry, sweetheart," he whispered finally, falling back in dejection.

Jackie's eyes were wide with an all-consuming terror that made Sherlock's heart tighten to the point of bursting within his chest. Never had he felt so helpless, so completely useless in front of a rival.

"Daddy!"

It was all she could do not to scream. Ice cold tears had begun to roll down her cheeks. The timer now said six minutes. Her last six minutes on Earth!

She raised her eyes to her Uncle John, but even there found only helplessness and the raw sense of defeat.

Jackie pressed her lips together hard, trying to stop them trembling, and closed her eyes. Maybe it was all just a bizarre dream and all she had to do was wake up. Opening her eyes doused that faint hope as well. They were all still there, on the edge of a giant swimming pool, her father defeated at her feet, and his enemy gloating in his soon to be completed victory.

"Why is this happening to me?" she forced out through her gritted teeth.

"Why do you have enemies who would do something like this, Daddy?"

He couldn't save her. All this time, she'd put him up on a pedestal, but when it really counted, when it was her very life at stake, he had failed her. He had failed her as a father and as a hero.

Sherlock could hear the faint buzzing in his brain that told him panic was setting in. His daughter had less than four minutes to live! But possibly even more painful than that was seeing the disappointment in her eyes as she realised his failure.

He scrambled to his feet.

"Moriarty!" he yelled across, prepared to beg, to grovel, to do whatever it took.

"You win! Let her go. She's only a child! It's me you really want, isn't it? You can do whatever you want with me. Just let her go!"

Moriarty stopped in his pacing and slowly turned to face them, clasping his hands calmly behind his back.

"But this is what I want, Sherlock. To break you. To make sure you never recover from this failure again. I have nothing against the girl, personally. She's just a tool for me to get what I want. So, I'm afraid, you're just going to have to stand there and watch."

The smile, like slick poison, spread across his face.

The blood was pounding in Sherlock's brain like a drum as he whirled, willing to make a last dash at trying to save his daughter's life, but he was caught off-guard as she threw herself against the back of the chair to rock away from his reach. Hearing John's stifled shout behind him, he could tell he wasn't the only one taken by surprise.

"Jackie! What are you doing?!"

"Go."

Her voice was as hard as tempered steel even though she resembled a pale ghost, her eyes shining bright with tears.

"Take Uncle John and go! He's not going to take you down with me. And...and tell mum... Tell her I always loved her..."

The timer on her chest read 1:36, then 1:35.

"Go!" she screamed at them with all her strength.

Sherlock tried to reach for her, but stuffed his hand in his mouth instead as she threatened to rock herself again.

"What are you standing there for?! Run, you fools!"

1:00...0:59...0:58...

Reluctantly, John reached for Sherlock's shoulder, but father and daughter's eyes were locked on each other.

"Jackie..."

"Just go, Daddy."

"No...No...I can't just leave you..."

"Uncle John? Take care of him for me, will you?"

She was resigned. Determined to put up a brave face as she went out. It was almost more than Sherlock could bear.

0:29... 0:28... 0:27...

"Daddy! Go!"

She was screaming at them again. John had to physically pull Sherlock from his daughter's side even though he resisted him the entire way.

Jackie closed her eyes and took one last deep shuddering breath...

0:03... 0:02... 0:01... 0:00...

tbc...