"This is very Sherlock," a voice drawled as the man wandered around 221B Baker Street. He moved along the kitchen, his bare hand scraping along the kitchen table as he did so, his eyes darting around and taking in the surroundings. Slowly, he moved down the hallway and pushed open the door to Sherlock's bedroom. Walking in, he took in some of the messy aspects of the room and some of the clean ones.
"This," he pointed around the room, "definitely isn't Sherlock."
He slowly picked up the shoe which was on the floor and balanced it on his fingertip before throwing it onto the bed and walking around the room. He then left the bedroom and sauntered back into the kitchen and looked into the living room where three of his men stood, looking around with small guns in their hands as they peered through the curtains onto the road.
"Any sign?" Moriarty asked one of his men.
"It's silent," he responded and Moriarty sighed, looking at the blonde figure that was sat in the green armchair. He winked at her slowly and twirled the gun in his hand;
"There is always a chance for you to get out of this," he informed her and noted how her jaw suddenly turned rigid and she gritted her teeth.
"I'm not doing it," she said forcefully and Moriarty chuckled;
"I could do with someone like you Scarlett," he whistled lowly and began to walk around the living room, pulling out a book and flicking through the pages, "and that way you'd also ensure that you'd survive."
"And betray Sherlock in the process?" Scarlett shook her head "I would never do that."
"Betray Sherlock?" Moriarty cocked a brow at her "you don't even know him all that well dear…do you?"
"I know enough," Scarlett replied.
"Life with him will never be easy Scarlett," Moriarty informed her, placing the book back and standing in the doorway to the kitchen as he looked at her.
"And joining you would make my life easier, would it?" she managed to ask, sarcasm laid in her voice.
"I could ensure it would be more normal," Moriarty spoke. "I'd only call upon your services when I am in need of them…and I do pay better than that law firm you work for."
"I'm not doing it," Scarlett told him for the zillionth time.
"Then you do realise that I have no choice but to kill you?"
"And I'm not betraying him," Scarlett remained defiant.
"Boss," one of the men spoke up as he peered from the window and looked as the cab drew up and Sherlock and John climbed from it quickly.
"What is it?" Moriarty asked, settling himself on the arm of the green chair Scarlett was sat on, his hand slowly running down her curly blonde hair as she turned stiff and shivered.
"We have company," he told his boss and then the three men took to the corners of the room, waiting with intent as they heard the door slam quickly and then footsteps take to the steps. Sherlock stood in the doorway and looked on as he saw the blonde haired girl in his armchair, her hair matted and her clothes ruined. Ash covered her body and she had developed a bruise on her cheek.
"Well," Sherlock said lowly, "you look a mess."
"Such a harsh greeting Sherlock," Moriarty was the one to respond, his fingers squeezing Scarlett's chin as he made her look up at him and then look at Sherlock.
"I was being honest," Sherlock responded, noting the three men and then strolling into the living room, settling himself onto his sofa, crossing his legs whilst John remained in the doorway.
"And honesty is the best policy, right Sherlock?" Moriarty chuckled, standing up and leaning against the fireplace.
"A little lie sometimes doesn't hurt," Sherlock shrugged. "It was a very clever plan you devised…give Scarlett reason to leave the club and then blow it just as she did so…leaving us all to wonder if she was dead or not."
"As you know," Moriarty said deeply, "I'm an extremely clever man."
"There's no denying that," Sherlock replied. "So why are you here again?"
"I do have a job to finish off," Moriarty said, once again he began to twirl the gun in his hands.
"Oh I am aware," Sherlock agreed. "But do you think you're going to get away with it? The police should be on their way any time soon. Lestrade knows you dropped the card into Scarlett's bag."
"They won't catch me," Moriarty spoke with confidence, "because this time…I plan to kill all three of you."
"Well that is a change in plan," Sherlock whispered lightly. "You now want all of us dead? Why the sudden change in heart?"
"I have decided Sherlock," Moriarty spoke clearly, "that you and your little lapdog here will always give me trouble regardless of what happens to her."
"And you have only just deduced that, have you?" Sherlock ironically spoke to him.
"No need for sarcasm," Moriarty scolded him, "it is the lowest form of wit."
"Then call me shallow," Sherlock replied.
"There is a way that little Scarlett here," he motioned to her, "can survive…but she turned the offer down."
"And what would that be?" John was the one to ask, eager to know if there was a way out of this life and death situation.
"Joining me."
"She said no, I presume? Sherlock said.
"I am here," Scarlett snapped. "And of course I said no."
"She's willing to risk her life to prove her loyalty for you," Moriarty informed him. "Slightly stupid, if you ask me."
"Join him," Sherlock told her, his eyes narrowed into hers. "Just do it."
"No," Scarlett replied.
"Such a loyal lapdog…just like your other pet Sherlock," Moriarty chuckled. "However…I imagine you've gained more advantages from this one."
"Don't," Sherlock spoke dangerously, "talk about her like that."
"So it's okay for him to call me your pet?" John replied and Sherlock looked over to him and shrugged lightly, causing John to roll his eyes.
"Ah," Moriarty suddenly snapped. "I'm tired of waiting."
He clapped his hands and jumped around the living room, grabbing onto Scarlett's upper arm and pulling her from the chair. Sherlock also jumped up himself, moving over his coffee table and standing opposite her, his hand moving to her cheek and bending down to look into her eyes.
"Do it Scarlett," he said and wiped away some of the grime on her eyes as Moriarty allowed a devilish smirk to come over his features.
"Aim," Moriarty simply said and one of the men pointed his gun at John and then Moriarty laughed;
"Oh that is wonderful!" He smiled to himself. "Of course!"
"What?" Sherlock wondered, taking a few steps back and looking into his eyes as Moriarty took a gun from his henchman and forced it into Scarlett's hand.
"Oh," Sherlock said, suddenly realising.
"I'm glad you understand," Moriarty drawled lightly. "But this way is far more entertaining."
"What is it?" Scarlett asked Sherlock.
"You shoot me and he doesn't shoot you," Sherlock explained simply as Moriarty pressed a gun to Scarlett's temple.
"No," Scarlett said. "I can't…no…"
"I'm willing to spare your life here," Moriarty told her. "And he's dead anyway…regardless of if you kill him or not."
"Why?" Scarlett snapped, turning to look at him as his hand remained tight around her arm. "You wanted me dead so badly?"
"Not as much as I want you on my team," Moriarty replied. "You've proven you have the strength…and besides…I think living knowing you don't have him in your life is enough torture."
"I can't," Scarlett said and Moriarty once again forced her to look at Sherlock and he made his gun click as Scarlett's hands shook.
"Scarlett," Sherlock made her look at him with his soft voice. "Do it."
"I…Sherlock…I…can't…please…"
"Scarlett," Sherlock stood by his coffee table. "Save yourself."
"Please Sherlock…" she began to cry loudly and Moriarty pressed the gun harder into her flesh and her whole body began to shake.
"I don't blame you Scarlett," he promised her, his eyes never leaving hers. "Do it."
"I'm sorry…" Scarlett garbled. "I'm so sorry…"
"I know," Sherlock assured her. And then there was a bang.
….
A/N: So another cliff-hanger…I know…you all probably hate me for it! But I shall try and update later on in the day after I have been to work and earned some more money which I can blown on clothes…blah, blah, blah. Anyway, thank you to all the reviews which I received and Cheeseball- I give you permission if you so wish to do so! Haha! Please review!