"Stop here!" Sherlock commanded the cabby as they stopped on the middle of a busy street and Sherlock jumped out, hopping over the railing as John paid and followed him, not as elegantly making it over the metal pole.
"This doesn't look industrially derelict," John commented and Sherlock nodded;
"Very observant of you John," he said quickly. "We can't simply get a cab to where Scarlett is. He has people tailing us. How else would he know where we were going?"
"That's true," John agreed with Sherlock. "So where do we go?"
"Just follow me," Sherlock said and John sighed, knowing he wasn't going to get any more information from the consulting detective who was busy, walking briskly through side streets, looking around to make sure they weren't being followed by anyone.
"Up there?" John muttered when he saw Sherlock begin to scale a ladder, climbing as quickly as he could onto the rooftop of the building where he then stood and looked down onto another building where two men were stood outside, wearing black coats as black cars remained hidden out of view. Sherlock ducked down as fast as he could, and John copied, both of them peering over the rooftop and looking at the two men.
"What now?" John asked. "You think he has this whole building covered?"
"I don't think so," Sherlock said. "He doesn't have too many men...down there!" Sherlock suddenly pointed down to the door which was at the side and John looked at him;
"You think we can sneak down there and get in without them noticing," his pointing finger went from the door Sherlock was on about to the one which was being guarded by the men.
"I think we can try," Sherlock said and began to scale back down the building. John had no option to follow him, his hand resting on the gun in his jacket and the two of them rested flat against the building, peering around the corner, seeing the door and knowing that around the corner next to that one there was some people who wouldn't hesitate in blowing their heads from their shoulders. Sherlock took the lead, slowly he moved from safety and down the gap between the buildings, shimmying down the wall as he went, hearing the men's voices on the phones but ignoring them as he reached the door, indicating for John to come and join him. With one slight prayer under his breath, John followed Sherlock and they looked at the small little fire exit door. Sherlock saw it was locked and wondering what to do as he knew he needed something sharp and small.
"Pass me your keys," he ordered John.
"It's a different lock Sherlock," he informed him and Sherlock rolled his eyes;
"Just do it."
John pulled his keys from his pocket and Sherlock took the keychain, leaving the key and handing it back to John. The keychain was attached to wire which was twirled around it and made to connect it onto a key. Sherlock slowly began to bend the silver wire until he managed to straighten it slightly and then he bent down to the lock, prodding the wire inside, picking at the locks until he finally heard a creek noise and the door edged open and Sherlock chucked the keychain back to John;
"Brilliant," he whispered and Sherlock grinned as he moved into the concrete building, and he noted they were in a stairwell, stairs going up and then some going down. Slowly, he moved in and John shut the door slowly and quietly, looking up the steps as he did so. Sherlock simply just edged along the wall and looked through the small glass pane in the door and he felt his breath falter at what he saw. Scarlett. She was in the middle of a room, tied to a chair as Moriarty circled her; much like a predator circled its prey. He saw how he hit her across the face and her blonde hair flew across her face. He then watched how he stood in front of her, the gun dangling on his pinkie finger whilst Sherlock took in the white bandages on each of her arms and how her face was bruised, her whist vest top dirty and her hair matted.
"She looks a bloody mess," Sherlock whispered as John took to look through the glass and then hit his friend lightly on the arm;
"Don't tell her that when you go in there," he said and Sherlock chuckled;
"Well I'm not lying to her," he said. "Do you have your gun?"
"Yes," John said and Sherlock nodded;
"Go upstairs and see if anyone is looking down onto the room...as soon as I have Scarlett I'm going to run back out here...you call the police and then meet us," Sherlock instructed John.
"And how do you plan on getting Scarlett?"
"I'll worry about that when I come to it."
...
"Did you tell him anything?" Moriarty snapped at Scarlett as he circled her. "Because we've lost him!"
"I don't know!" Scarlett yelled back, gritting her teeth together. "How was I supposed to tell him? You've been here the whole time and I don't even know where we are!"
"I wouldn't lie to me Scarlett," he urged her. "I let you speak to him one time...what did he say?"
"I don't remember," she said and Moriarty felt her test his patience, his hand quickly straightening out and he hit her across the face as she gasped loudly in shock and then sat back up and looked at him. She was so scared it was unreal, and yet, at the same time she was angry with him. Arsehole.
"Because when I find Holmes, Scarlett," he threatened, "I'm going to destroy him...and there's nothing you can do to stop me."
"Oh I don't know," a booming voice came into the quiet room, his voice loud and commanding, full of authority as he walked. The door slammed behind him and he walked with purpose into the empty space, fidgeting with his gloves on his hand as he did so. "I don't think you're going to destroy me...possibly me destroying you is more likely..."
"So you managed to find her," Moriarty said and Sherlock's eyes glanced briefly at Scarlett and then fluttered back to look at Moriarty who was grinning widely with glee.
"It wasn't that difficult. You need to find better hiding spaces though," Sherlock wrinkled his nose, suddenly feeling cocky. "This is ghastly."
"I thought it would be a nice place to end this," he replied. "So how did you find out where we were?"
"I would tell you," Sherlock drawled. "But you'll have plenty of time to figure that out when you're rotting in some jail cell I imagine."
"I thought I said no police," he pointed his gun at Scarlett, the tip of it digging into her temple as she shuddered in fear of what he was going to do to her. Her head was bowed and tears fell from her eyes and down her grimy face.
"I haven't called them," Sherlock said. "Yet," and he began walking the perimeter of the room as Moriarty continued;
"And you really think you'll have chance to? I have men surrounding this building Sherlock...and...well...another little surprise," Moriarty chuckled and John looked down from his hiding spot after having managed to knock out the one sniper he saw with the hand of his gun and noticing there was no others. He could have sworn there would be more and he was right when he saw one stood across the room from him on the walkway which went around the second floor. John slowly moved up, aiming his gun at the man's head and he suddenly shot.
"What was that?" Moriarty wondered and Sherlock yawned loudly;
"Probably your sniper going off," he lied, seeing John on the top floor who raised his hand in acknowledgement.
"Anyway," Sherlock said. "What is this little surprise?"
"I'm surprised you haven't guessed," he said to Sherlock, managing to sound slightly disappointed, ignroing the previous noise, not caring because he had a plan. "You do know how I love explosives...and this is going to be a test for you Sherlock."
"How so?" Sherlock asked.
"Time will tell...you see...there was always this little voice in the back of my head, telling me you may find me...but I didn't believe it and yet I still have a backup plan. Surely that tells you something?" he grinned and Sherlock turned slightly pale and Moriarty chuckled.
"It tells me," Sherlock said, "that Jim doubted himself...making himself less confident in his plans."
"Oh no," Moriarty shook his head quickly. "Not that. It tells me that I'm always prepared. Now the question is Sherlock. How badly do you want me dead?"
"I don't think words can describe," Sherlock said lowly and he saw Moriarty pull a stick with a red button from his jacket and he twirled it idly.
"Because I plan to walk out of here Sherlock...and I also plan for Miss Jenson here to die."
"I'd disagree," Sherlock said and Moriarty chuckled.
"You can waste your time here Sherlock," he said, "trying to free your new little girlfriend and kill both of you...or you can save yourself and leave her to die and come after me. Revenge, Sherlock."
Sherlock said nothing, words couldn't become of him at that moment in time whilst John simply just listened to the conversation.
"This whole room is going to be blown to smithereens when I press the button," Moriarty said. "You won't have time to get Miss Jenson from here."
"Go Sherlock," Scarlett suddenly said and his emotionless eyes turned onto her and he saw her crying quietly. "I'm dead...don't kill yourself..."
"For once the girl speaks sense," Moriarty said shrilly. "As soon as I press this then you have twenty seconds."
"Do it." Sherlock said lowly and John began to run back down the stairs, standing near the door but not entering the room.
"If you insist." Moriarty said and he slowly lifted his finger up and began walking over to the exit. As he stood next to the door he looked back at Sherlock and Scarlett;
"I'll see you soon Mr Holmes," he said, confident he was going to leave Scarlett. And then he pressed the button and the timer began, allowing himself to leave the room.
Sherlock wasted no time, as time could not be spent messing around and he quickly ran over to Scarlett and John ran into the room.
"What you doing?" she screamed as he picked the chair up and John ran to help him.
"Saving you," he said and they began to run to the stairwell, struggling to keep hold of the chair as they did so.
"Where are we going?" John shouted. "This place is going to blow Sherlock!"
"I know that," he said and managed to squeeze through the door and then Sherlock saw the stairs in the stairwell they had come from.
"Down there!" he said and walked down the steps, balancing Scarlett as he did so until they went deeper.
"Oh God," Scarlett sobbed. "We're dead."
"No we're not," Sherlock said, getting them to basement level and shutting a steel door on them as soon as a loud bang sound erupted. Rubble fell from the ceiling above them and Sherlock knocked Scarlett's chair to the floor, his body covering hers as John held his hands over his head, dust becoming too much for him as he began to cough loudly.
"Scarlett," Sherlock whispered her name. "Are you okay?"
"Yes...I think so..." she said and Sherlock quickly set about removing the ropes from her body and she fell onto the floor and slowly sat up, coughing and spluttering as she went, not seeing in the dark basement room. Sherlock pulled his phone out and illuminated light into the room;
"Are you alright John?" he asked.
"Apart from almost dying?" he checked. "Yes...I'm fine..."
"Good," Sherlock said and he looked around the room, standing up quickly and looking around the small basement he had managed to get them trapped into. He walked back up the steps but he found them blocked by rubble, and he knew that if he moved the rubble then more stones would fall down.
"Let me guess," John said dryly, "we're trapped."
"You are very melodramatic John," Sherlock complained. "A building has been blown up...Lestrade may have some common sense to know we have been here."
"How long will that be?" John complained and Sherlock shrugged;
"I'm not psychic John," Sherlock said dryly and sat back down, leaning against some rubble as he sighed loudly, feeling tired suddenly.
"Sherlock," he heard Scarlett suddenly whisper and he looked at her as she sat near John, her arms tightly held around her legs. "I'm sorry."
"Why are you apologising for being taken hostage?" Sherlock wondered but she shook her head at him;
"For getting you stuck down here," she said and Sherlock snorted;
"I could have left you Scarlett," he told her. "It was my choice to come here and save you."
"Thank you," Scarlett suddenly blurted out. "I...I didn't want to die...but I didn't want you to be stuck here...I never wanted any of this..."
"That would be a strange thing to want if you ask me," Sherlock replied dryly and he saw her shaking.
"You're cold," he said and John began to remove his coat but before he had a chance to undo a button, Sherlock had stood up and was walking over to her, removing his coat as he sat beside her and placed it around her shoulders, allowing her to place her arms into it. It was far too big for her but she didn't care.
"I...I don't know what to say Sherlock," Scarlett said.
"Words are not needed," he assured her.
"But I should say something...you just saved my life," she said and Sherlock grinned slyly;
"Didn't I just?" he whispered.
"But you...you chose me Sherlock...you could have found Moriarty...but you chose me," Scarlett shook her head and Sherlock tilted her chin and her head moved to the side as she looked into his eyes;
"I chose you" Sherlock whispered. "Because..." he tried to think of a reason but he didn't know what to say to her. Why did he choose her? Scarlett nodded her head, allowing her hand to grasp onto Sherlock's whilst John remained quiet in the darkness.
"I know." Scarlett said simply and rested her head onto his shoulder.
...
"I'm bored," John complained a few hours after and Sherlock rolled his eyes as he stood up near the steps, shouting whilst Scarlett remained sat down, feeling woozy after being tied up for a while and her limbs were still weak.
"Honestly John," Sherlock complained. "How can you be bored? We're being rescued."
"Because we've been being rescued for the last hour."
"There's a lot of rubble to get through," he informed him and then finally it came. To start with there was bright blinding light but Sherlock knew it couldn't be the sun as his phone with no signal had informed him it had been three thirty in the morning. Slowly, Sherlock allowed his eyes to become adjusted as a small opening on the stairs appeared and Sherlock walked back over to Scarlett;
"We're getting out of here," he told her, wrapping his arm around her waist and hauling her to her feet, helping her walk over to the steps which had been cleared. Firemen helped the three of them out, bustling them to the surface as they went, helping them to step over the rubble of the collapsed building.
"Okay," Sherlock whispered as he stuck by Scarlett and he felt the girl trip over a stone, losing her footing but he caught her before she fell. Hastily, he picked her up into his arms and she didn't complain, her body being physically exhausted as she allowed Sherlock to carry her dirty body through the wreckage. She didn't know what was happening as she felt completely disjointed from her body which was being prodded about as she sat in an ambulance, paramedics telling her the wound wasn't serious and they bandaged it correctly, at one point they tried to take Sherlock's coat from her but she refused to let them take it from her shoulders and she kept it tightly around herself. The next thing she knew was being told that she would be fine and there was no need for her to go to hospital, only to go back to make sure her wounds would have healed on her arms. Sherlock silently walked her back to a police car which Lestrade had provided, much to Donovan's dismay and he kept close to her as they drove in silence back to 221B Baker Street, Scarlett falling to sleep on the journey, resting on Sherlock as she did so. John managed to let a small smile move from his lips as he saw his friend managed to wrap an arm around her shoulders, holding her tightly to him.
"What?" Sherlock wondered when he saw John looking at him.
"Nothing," his friend said. "Just...don't mess this up."
"Mess what up?" Sherlock wondered tiredly.
"What you and Scarlett have," John said and Sherlock shook his head;
"I don't intend to," Sherlock said. But he didn't intend many things. When the car stopped at their home, Sherlock gently picked Scarlett up into his arms and then they moved slowly up the steps to their flat. John walked to his room and Sherlock deposited Scarlett's body onto the bed and took his coat from her. She remained sleeping on top of the covers as Sherlock simply looked at his pyjamas and then collapsed onto the bed next to her.
"Sherlock," Scarlett suddenly whispered, crawling along the bed until she rested her head onto his chest and draped an arm over his waist boldly.
"Yes?" he asked, managing to move an arm around her shoulders, feeling her greasy hair on her back as he did so.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"You don't need to keep thanking me every five minutes Scarlett," he informed her. "I know you're grateful."
"Good," she said.
"And I have to thank you," he said.
"Hm?" Sleepily she yawned.
"For giving me information...and staying strong," Sherlock said and took a deep breath for a minute. "Because," he continued in a whisper, "I don't know what I would have done if Moriarty had killed you...I truly like you Scarlett...and if you being kidnapped had to make me see that then I'm obviously slightly stupid...because as much as I hate to admit this...I'm falling for you," he said and looked down onto her and scowled when he saw her lids were shut and her breathing was light. Sherlock sighed loudly in slight annoyance that she had missed his whole speech. But he would tell her again when she was conscious. One day, anyway.
...
So Moriarty is still out there, bit of a slippery character if you ask me. But there is more to come and so thank you to anyone who has reviewed, the reviews have been so kind and I thank you all! And thank you to anyone reading this and just let me know what you think!