And that is how I found myself three hours later, sitting in a car with a semtex suit on. Rich or as I learned Jim Moriarty gave me a phone, pager, and simple instructions. Read only what was on the pager and say nothing more. I'd have a sniper on me at all times to ensure that I did as instructed. I admit I was terrified. I was used to being the one who infiltrated or talked down the criminals, not being the victim.
"Hello, sexy," I called the number Jim told me and followed the number.
"Who's this?" Sherlock's rich voice came across the phone. I was crying and tears were falling pretty quickly.
"I've sent you a little puzzle just to say hi."
"Aria?" He finally figured out my voice. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"
"I'm not crying. I'm typing and your little Aria is reading it all out." I was choking on my sobs.
"Aria? Are you alright?" The first time I heard Sherlock frantic and not in control of his emotions.
"I gave her an ultimatum. She chose to play." I answered him. "She couldn't leave Baker Street for weak protestations of her daughter. I think its due to a certain detective. But that's just my opinion."
"Moriarty." Sherlock breathed.
"Ding! You've won a prize," I managed through my tears and sniffling.
"Let her go!" Sherlock sounded furious.
"Why? She's obviously good motivation for you." I read. "Of course she has no idea of your feelings. And you know naught of her own. But tick tock."
"The curtain rises." He muttered. I could hear some murmuring in the background.
"Twelve hours to solve my puzzle Sherlock Holmes or I'm going to be so naughty."
I was instructed to end the call. I did so and sat there terrified with the red sniper dot trained directly on me. I was panicking. After six hours I had to call Sherlock again. He answered on the first ring, almost as if he had been expecting it.
"Hello again. Getting close." I whimpered, the terror quite evident in my voice.
"It's alright Aria," Sherlock soothed, though he had control over his own panic.
"You soothe her Sherlock. Maybe next time I'll have to request John. But it is fun to watch you panic over her."
"Let her go. She has nothing to do with this." Sherlock warned.
"She is everything to do with this," Jim said through me. "She's your motivator. I wonder if Lily would motivate you as well." I cried harder. The only thing bringing me some kind of peace was the fact my daughter was safe.
I started gasping. I was having a panic attack now. I could barely breathe, let alone speak.
"Aria! Calm down!" Sherlock hissed. His voice was quite soothing and I tried to focus only on voice. I let it wash over me. I was beginning to panic less and less as his rich, accented, baritone voice did the trick.
"Aria, listen to me." Sherlock was being serious with me. "I will get you out of there. I will. Lily will be safe with me."
"Time is running out." I told him, though my heart was leaping for joy at his last few sentences.
"Aria, you - " the line went dead. I was stuck in that car for another three hours before Moriarty let me call for a pick-up.
Within twenty minutes, the police as well as Lestrade, John, Sherlock, and Lily were all there. As soon as they got the vest dismantled, I grabbed Lily in a fierce hug, planting kisses to the top of her head. She clung to me as well. I picked her up, letting her rest her head on my right shoulder.
"You shouldn't be lifting anything with your head wound," Sherlock stated looking me dead in the eyes with his piercing glare. The paramedics were talking with John, probably about the wound. They had patched it and warned me about the possibilities of my having a concussion.
"She's worn out Sherlock." I replied, tired myself over the whole ordeal. His eyes softened in that moment as he quickly ran them over my frame. I was still dressed in those horrid club clothes, and he quickly took off his coat and wrapped it around me to ward off the cold.
"So are you." He said, before he plucked her from my grasp, just as John walked up. Lily merely yawned and snuggled into his tall, muscular frame. I smiled as they both seemed to be at ease with one another, despite Sherlock never having been around a kid.
Sherlock seemed a little uneasy when she curled her tiny arm around his neck and sucked on her thumb. I merely told him that meant that she actually liked him. She didn't do that with just anyone, it had to be someone she knew and trusted.
"Thank you," I said, feeling the adrenaline begin to leave my body.
"Let's go home." Sherlock said, beginning to stride off. John and I followed. We got into a cab together, and both boys made sure to nudge me if I started to doze a little.
Finally we made it to 221 Baker Street. Sherlock was the first one in and he started up the stairs to his apartment, or flat rather. I stopped, certain that by now he had forgotten all about Lily. That changed when he gently shifted her and turned to look at me.
"Sherlock, you can give her to me now," I stated. He appraised me quickly whilst appearing as though he was surprised at my request.
"Why?" He asked, tilting his head a little. Yep he was definitely, genuinely confused.
"Well, because my flat is down that way." I jabbed my finger down the stairs. "She needs to be put to bed."
"And she shall." He narrowed his eyes. John cleared his throat behind me, as if trying to get us to rush this whole conversation.
"And I need to rest. Today was quite nerve wracking if you hadn't noticed." I snapped at him.
"You are planning on sleeping after being warned of a potential concussion?" He hissed at me.
"Well where else am I going to sleep?" I questioned, too tired to play games with Sherlock Holmes, the great detective.
"You are going to sleep in my flat." He wasn't joking. I was quite frankly shocked into silence. "John and I can keep an eye on you and Lily." He marched up the stairs. I followed, in a sort of a daze to be honest. When we got into the flat, I settled onto the couch, certain that's where I was to sleep. John was just silent as usual as he took his chair.
"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked, stopping in front of the kitchen doorway.
"Getting comfortable," I replied. "I might as well if I'm going to stay the night." He rolled his ice eyes at me.
"Come." He said curtly.
"I don't want to see your experiments right now Sherlock." I was tired and very uncomfortable in the short clothes that Anderson had seen to pick out for me.
"No," He said slowly, as if I were a child. "You are going to sleep. In a bed."
"Yes, I've been trying to tell you that." I snapped, all pretense of being polite thrown out the window. "But since I'm here, I have to make do. With the couch."
Sherlock tightened his jaw before striding forward to grasp my hand. "That's not what I meant. You are sleeping in my bed tonight. I'm not going to sleep, so you might as well use it with Lily."