It was six in the morning and Anguirus had hardly slept. Like most mornings, she had felt her panic attack coming along. There were no closets in this room. There wasn't even a window. Anguirus had figured that Moriarty wanted her to lose all sense of time, but that wasn't likely to happen. Internal clocks were a godsend and she'd be damned if she never used hers.

Anguirus stood up and walked slowly to her door, opening it slowly and quietly. It was dark throughout the cabin and Anguirus felt her way along the wall towards Moriarty's room. She gently put her hand on the door knob and twisted it. It was dark in the room and Anguirus could make out the sleeping figure of Moriarty underneath a blue blanket. Listening to his soft breathing, Anguirus kept the knob turned as she eased in and closed the door quietly behind her. As Anguirus' vision adjusted to the dark, she scanned the room, finding the closet. With quiet foot falls, she walked over to it, opening it just as quietly as the bedroom door. She stepped in quickly and closed the door behind her.

Anguirus sat down and took off her dog tags, squeezing them in her hands as one would do with a crucifix. Her mind drifted off to her foster family. The Military had paid Harper to take in the 17 year old Anguirus. During the year it took for her to turn 18, she was supposed to have found a job and adjusted to life outside of violence and conspiracies. Instead of that happening, Anguirus became secluded and had receded into herself. When she was 19, Charlene and Jacob came in.

Charlene was only two at the time, Jacob was seven. Their mother had gone to prison for the distribution of illegal drugs. They represented something to Anguirus. They were the point before and after she was forced into the Marines. She elected to help raise Charlene and befriend Jacob.

They probably haven't noticed her absence yet. They'll start to worry around two in the afternoon. They will call the police around seven at night when they find out that Anguirus was not any where to be found. The police will reassure them but won't do a thing about it. Anguirus tried to keep her breath steady. Sherlock will stick to the plan and everything will be alright.

Right?

Anguirus' eyes popped open as a cell phone rang, playing that awful song. She heard Moriarty shuffle around in his sheets before picking up his cell phone.

"Hello?" His voice was extremely irritated. "Oh, General Shipley! What a pleasant surprise!"

Anguirus' eyes widened. General Shipley. General William Shipley of the United States Marines. The air became tense and hard to breathe.

"You haven't found anything? Well, I suggest you find something soon, General, or I will have to start a war. Bye!"

There was a beep and Moriarty shuffled some more. Anguirus supposed that he was getting out of bed, now that he was awake. She heard him shuffle over to his bedroom door and he opened it, exiting the room. Anguirus felt another wave of panic before deciding on a plan. Slowly, she got up and exited the closet. The bedroom was clear of the insane man. She moved quickly to the door and opened it an inch. Moriarty was no where to be seen. Anguirus crept over to her bedroom and opened the door, quickly shutting it behind her. Letting out a sigh of relief and turned around running straight into Moriarty. Anguirus jerked backwards, slamming her back against her door.

Moriarty chuckled, "Good morning! Why were you in my closet of all places? So strange." He tilted his head to the side and scanned over her body. "You look very nice in my clothes."

Moriarty stepped closer to Anguirus, their chests almost touching. He stared at her with a tense look on his face. Anguirus was still clutching her dog tags in her hand as the stress almost penetrated her careless expression. Almost. Moriarty closed in on her, pressing his cheek against hers.

"Excuse me." He whispered as he shoved her roughly to the side. Anguirus caught herself quickly and watched as he wretched open the door and slammed it behind him.

Anguirus started grinning, wondering if the bra and panties were his too.

Stepping out of her room, she gave a disgusted expression, hearing the sound of Moriarty urinating in the bathroom. Anguirus went into the kitchen and started looking in all the cabinets, leaving the doors open as she went. She sighed irritably, realizing that she was too short to see farther from the bottom shelf. Anguirus climbed up on the counter and stood up on her knees, shuffling boxes of pasta and macaroni and cheese around. Moriarty didn't seem like a mac and cheese kind of guy. He was more of a cut-out-my-enemy's-heart-and-sautee-it-in-their-own-blood kind of guy.

Anguirus got down and started opening all of the the cabinets and drawers under the counter. With nothing of interest there, she went to the fridge and opened both sections, pulling out the little drawers. There was nothing. Not a single lemon or lime. Growling, Anguirus picked up an apple and biting into it ruthlessly. She walked into the living room and sat down on the couch, listening to the shower run in the bathroom. After she finished the apple, she threw it over her shoulder behind the couch, letting it hit the floor with a loud 'thump'. She picked up one of the remotes and started inspecting it. Clicking the 'on' button, the television lit up. Anguirus plucked a few more buttons and the channels turned to the regular BBC stations. She picked up another remote and turned it on. Classical music filled the empty space and Anguirus pulled a face. It figures that Moriarty would listen to this. She didn't have a problem with classical music, but it lacked adrenaline. Anguirus turned up the volume until it was loud enough for it to be heard in every inch of the house.

Picking up another remote, Anguirus attempted to press all the buttons at once. She didn't actually succeed, but the channels on the television changed to a black and white image of Sherlock's apartment. Anguirus stood up abruptly and stepped on top of the glass coffee table. Staring at the television screen, Sherlock was talking to John, probably about Moriarty and Anguirus. Anguirus attempted to read his lips, but Sherlock seemed to be mumbling.

The music clicked off, "Did you throw a tantrum?" An amused voice resounded behind her. She ignored him and continued to concentrate on what Sherlock was speaking about. The television was then turned off and Moriarty grabbed Anguirus by her hips, pulling her backwards. Anguirus felt a little panicked as she was falling, but it subsided when she landed on the plush couch. She looked up at the man and saw that he had his Westwood suit on and his hair in it's usual gel casing.

Moriarty looked at her pointedly, "Now, we have things to do little monster. Go get dressed."

Anguirus stared at him with a blank face, refusing to move from the couch.

"Go or I will rip your clothes off for you."

Anguirus stared a moment longer before standing up and slowly walking towards the room that she was sleeping in. There were clothes on her bed and they weren't her usual get-up. It was a dress. With heels. Anguirus looked intently at it before deciding to get it over with. No use in fighting with a maniac. The dress was black and short with a haltered top. There was a long 'V' in the back, making Anguirus' scars very visible. But, thanks to her extremely long hair, most of it was covered. Putting on the heels, she walked out of the room and into the living room where Moriarty was sitting on the couch, her heels clicking on the floor. Moriarty looked over and scanned her quickly before standing up and pulling out his phone. He started typing and Anguirus heard the snap of the camera.

Anguirus narrowed her eyes for a moment, irritated that he felt the need to do that, but stopped when she realized that she didn't want to break her facade.

Moriarty dialed a number and put his phone to his ear. It didn't take long for someone to pick up, "We're waitiiiiing." Click.

Moriarty pocketed the phone and walked slowly over to Anguirus. He walked around her and stopped behind her, moving her hair from behind her back and draping it over her shoulder. Moriarty dragged his finger down the thickest scar and Anguirus refused to even tense at his actions. After he gotten as far as the dress allowed him, he continued walking around and stopped suddenly, crouching down. Moriarty grabbed her leg and put his face extremely close to Anguirus' calf.

"Is that a bullet wound?" He stood up and adjusted his jacket, "That is very bad-ass of you. And a bit sexy."

The sound of a helicopter rang from above and Anguirus looked over to the only door. Just as she did, Moriarty grabbed her arm and she felt a prick in the crook of her elbow. Anguirus looked at him injecting her with a substance. For some reason, she didn't feel panic. Anguirus just let him do what he wanted. She's been doing that her whole life, why would she be different now?

"Oh yeah," She thought, "Because he's probably going to kill me."

Moriarty stepped back and watched her as she fell face first on to the ground, giving a little chuckle. Moran came in and looked down at the girl.

"Get her, would you? Wouldn't want to be late for our appointment."

Anguirus felt light taps on her cheeks, arousing her from her groggy state.

"Anguirus."

What was that?

"Anguirus wake up."

It must've been Harper. Anguirus opened her eyes and blinked a couple of times, a blurry face was staring at her.

"Little Monster!" The blur sang.

Sense came back to her and her vision cleared, showing a grinning Moriarty.

"Time to get up!" He opened the car door of the taxi they were in and grabbed her arm, pulling her out with him.

She stumbled and gripped onto Moriarty's shoulder, surprised by the heels on her feet. Moriarty gave an irritated sigh and hoisted her into a more stable position. Even though Anguirus was properly adjusted, Moriarty kept his arm around her waist, pushing her to walk forward with him. They were in an unrecognizable town at a random restaurant that looked rather fancy. It had to be about one in the afternoon. How long had it taken them to get there?

Moriarty opened the door and motioned for Anguirus to walk forward. Inside of the restraunt was very... white. It had white marble floors and white chairs and tablecloths. There were a few diamond chandeliers hanging dangerously from the ceiling, waiting to impale anybody at the slightest tremor.

Moriarty walked up to the Hostess and smiled, "Hello, reservations for Zamora."

Anguirus jerked her head in his direction. He booked something under her name? That was very stupid of him. But then again, it depends on what his intentions were, if he had any at all. The Hostess started to lead us to a table and Moriarty resumed his hand on Anguirus' back, ushering her towards the table. It was actually quite annoying, not that she'd show it. When they reached the table, there was already a woman sitting there. She had dark hair that was pinned up and an untouched glass of wine. She didn't look to happy to be there, but who ever is when Moriarty is involved?

"Hello, Irene!" Moriarty said in a sing-song voice.

Irene stood up and smiled tightly, "Moriarty. And you are?"

Anguirus regarded her with uncertainty. She didn't look very trustworthy and meeting Moriarty here meant that she must be a criminal.

"Oh, don't mind her. She's just a pet. Sit down!"

Anguirus held back the twitch in her eye and sat down in her chair.

A Waiter came by, "May I take your orders?" Irene rattled off some fancy name of some french food. Probably snails. Moriarty just asked for a glass of water.

"And you, miss?" Anguirus reached up and plucked the man's pen and paper away from him, startling him.

"H-Hey!"

She put her hand up to silence him. Anguirus wrote:

"One glass of Lemon Juice- no ice, one glass of Lime Juice- no ice, five lemons-to go, five limes-to go, an Apple."

And handed the pen and paper back to the confused man.

"O-kay. I'll... be back." And off he basically stumbled.

Anguirus turned her attention back to the table to find both Irene and Moriarty staring at her. Irene had that one look on her face that females often give to other females when they're sizing them up. Anguirus didn't know much about the outcome of that look.

Moriarty was looking at her with a bored expression, "Are you done being dramatic?"

Anguirus ignored him and continued to stare unblinkingly at Irene.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?"

It seems that Irene had made a negative opinion of her. It was fine, because Anguirus felt the same way about Irene, so she decided to mess with her a bit before Moriarty finally decided to but in.

"Orange, lemon, school, work, cow, green, parents, clean, finish." Anguirus signed quickly with a straight face.

Moriarty hid a laugh behind a violent cough.

"Is she... is she deaf?" Irene said quietly, which was rather strange thing to do when someone suspects the lack of the ability to hear.

Moriarty nodded, "Yes, she is."

Anguirus twitched her eyebrow. What a change of events. Now she had to pretend she couldn't hear. Anguirus lifted up her fork and began to nonchalantly play with it.

"Oh, wow. Thank goodness, because I thought she had mental retardation."

Moriarty barked out another round of laughter as Anguirus slowly bent the fork to prevent herself from jumping at Irene's throat.

"And her hair needs badly dyed." Anguirus couldn't be mad at that statement because she agreed.

Moriarty looked at Anguirus' head, "She does, doesn't she?" And he placed his arm around the back of Anguirus' chair.

The waiter came by with the food and Anguirus stared at the juices almost desperately.

"And, miss, your to-go bags are up by the hostess." Anguirus smiled and nodded at him as he left.

"Wait a minute..." Irene trailed off.

Anguirus slammed her elbow onto the table causing a huge clatter and gave Irene the finger before chugging her lemon juice and biting into her apple.

"So, let's get down to business!" Moriarty clapped, "I need you to get close to Sherlock again."

Both Irene and Anguirus looked at the insane man.

"Why? If I may ask."

Moriarty smiled a chilling smile, "I need him to stay off of my little monster's trail for a while."

Anguirus panicked a little inside. This was not part of her plan.

"Okay..." Irene trailed.

When it came to Moriarty, Irene never asked why twice. Too many questions could get her killed.

Anguirus drank her lime juice more slowly than usual as she tried to think. Sherlock had said that he would share the plan with someone else with higher power, but has he? Will he before Irene goes and does only God knows what? Sherlock is a man, after all. Well, she really didn't know him very well.

As Anguirus drank the last drops, Moriarty stood up. "Time to go."

Anguirus stood up as well, nodding towards Irene before following Moriarty out.

"Miss!" The hostess held up a bag, "I believe these are yours."

Anguirus took the bag and caught up with Moriarty who had hailed a cab and was sitting it with the door open. She hopped in and shut the door behind her. Anguirus looked at Moriarty after a moment of just sitting there and she found him staring at her with an unidentifiable look in his eye.

He nodded towards the bag, "You lasted almost a day without them. Round's over. You lost." And then he attacked her, smashing his lips against hers.

When a woman is surprised with a kiss, the natural reaction is to kiss back after a few stunned seconds and, being a woman, that's what Anguirus did. Moriarty pressed his body against hers. He freed her mouth and started leaving kisses along her jawline and neck, making her lean her head back against the window. When she did that she felt a prick in her neck and Moriarty pulled away from her, smoothing his hair back as her vision faded.

"Drive."