Sherlock Story
Forgotten Memories, Chapter 73
A disclaimer: Sherlock belongs to BBC along with the talented writers and amazing Martin Freeman and Benedict Cumberbatch. No money was made. The story, however, is my original thought and comes out of my overactive imagination. Other characters introduced are also mine.
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Notes:
1. Rugby is a team sport in which players run with an oval ball, move it laterally from hand to hand, and kick it.
2. "It was worth a wound… many wounds..." is found in Sherlock Holmes - The Adventure of The Three Garridebs.
T rated some future chapters may be M
*Thanks so much for reading. Please do not forget to comment. * Part V The Rook.
Note: Everyone Sherlock is currently in England.
***** Important. I wrote several chapters so you know what I am about to say, again.
1. Read a quote a day, ( pretend the beginning of each quote is a new chapter.)
Or
2. Read as much as you want at one time. Enjoy.
3. The last chapter (Quote) is a bit of a cliffy. Save that chapter until it is closer to the weekend, if that bothers you. Make yourself happy.
To my other family.
Peace, Coffee, and Love to all, Zacha. :)
"The soul that has conceived one wickedness can nurse no good thereafter." SOPHOCLES, Philoctetes
He sat in a Julian Chichester seater sofa. He usually preferred pieces that were more traditional, but the modern piece of furniture he sat on was, to his surprise, his taste. He had one elbow leaning on the end table with a crystal wine glass in it. If his father were alive, a simple thing like putting his elbow on the table would have warranted a beating. That could not happen anymore, his father was dead. He should know, he killed the obnoxious bastard.
He heard the footsteps as someone approached from behind. In his line of work, he could not afford to be anything but alert. The killer walked up to him and stood just behind him. Moriarty looked at the dark red liquid. Red was his favorite color. He smiled at his private observation. He brought the wine glass up to his nose and whiffed the delicate fruity aroma. He then took a small sip and swirled the pleasant stock in his mouth before finally swallowing it. He only sipped on alcohol but never allowed himself to become drunk. That would not be wise in his line of work. He did not acknowledge the man behind him for several minutes. Sebastian waited patiently. This was Jim after all.
"Is everything in place Sebastian?" Moriarty said without turning around or raising his voice.
Sebastian thought for a moment then answered. "Of course, Sir."
Moriarty would notice his hesitation, but he could always make it appear as if he was concerned for Moriarty's safety. The truth was, Moran was concerned with what Holmes would divulge about his treatment of him. There were certain events that he would rather keep away from Moriarty's knowledge.
"Everything is in place. The kidnapping will take place exactly as you instructed. Holmes has already received your package. We were unable to obtain Holmes. He did not leave his apartment as expected." Moran finished with a frown.
"Why frown Seb," Moriarty commented without even turning around. Sebastian did not comment right away. He already knew what would happen next.
"Come Sebastian. I want to see your pretty face." Moriarty said as he took another sip of the wine. He held it in his mouth briefly before finally swallowing. Sebastian held up his chin and smoothed his jacket as he gracefully walked in front of his boss.
Moriarty face was expressionless, as he looked Sebastian in the eyes. Moriarty's body was still, but his eyes traveled over Moran's body and paused on his cheek. Moriarty face remained impassive except for the raised eyebrows.
"Had a bit of trouble?" Moriarty asked with the slightest sardonic edge to his voice. "I warned you not to get Ben upset." Moriarty circled around and whispered in Sebastian's ear. "It would seem that he is more of a man injured than you are whole." Sebastian body stiffened at Moriarty's words, but he said nothing. Moran was careful to keep his face expressionless. He, however, could not stop the slightest of twitches that came to his face before he could hide it. Moriarty noticed pleased.
Moriarty allowed the first traces of true expression to return to his face. It was amusement. "Don't worry Seb, I still think you're pretty." Moriarty's finger traced the scar a little rougher than necessary as he watched Moran's eyes carefully. Sebastian looked directly into Moriarty's eyes without flinching.
Moriarty smiled at the ex-soldier's stubbornness.
Several sets of footsteps were heard. Some footsteps were heavy and filled the room with a harsh sound. Crisp tapping sounds of high-heeled shoes were also heard as it connected with the marbled tile floor. They waited to be acknowledged.
Moriarty, now tired of the current game that he had been playing, looked at the two men and woman that approached.
"We have it Sir," The woman in the suit said.
Moriarty's smile widened.
"Leave," Moriarty said simply.
Everyone turned to leave.
Moriarty looked at the woman as he said simply, "Not you." His fingers traced the edge of her suit collar. The guards continued to retreat. The woman made a point of raising one eyebrow and then smirking at Sebastian. Moran, after a slight hesitation, followed when he realized that he was actually being dismissed. Moriarty's voice haltered his steps. Sebastian turned to look into Moriarty's eyes expectantly.
Moriarty locked eyes with Moran and said, "I want you to take care of the problem personally."
Moran hesitated again.
"You're dismissed Mr. Moran." Moriarty said somewhat coldly.
"Yes, Sir," Moran said with as bored a voice as he could manage. He then briskly walked out the room. The last thing that Sebastian noticed as he closed the door was Moriarty's eyes locked with his. Moriarty made a point of kissing the woman deeply as she kissed back passionately. Jim locked eyes with Moran. Moriarty was trying to make a point. He dismissed Moran as he would dismiss any of his other staff because he was not pleased, and would soon lose patience with Moran. Sebastian noticed that Moriarty's eyes looked as cold as his voice sounded.
The only time that Moriarty's eyes lit up was when he saw or talked about Holmes. This realization made Moran hate the Consultant Detective more.
"Boredom is the deadliest poison." William F. Buckley, JR., Milestones
Sherlock was bored, God help him. This was not a question but a very clear fact. John scratched his arm before he could stop himself.
"Two more days, two more days, two more bloody days." John muttered irritated as he walked briskly from his room. He did not bother to dry his hair. His feet struck the wooden stairs as he jogged down. It was as if he could punish the stairs and transfer some of the anger he felt toward Sherlock to the inanimate object.
As he came into the room, he was not surprised to find that Sherlock was not in his sleeping trousers and dressing gown, but fully dressed in a suit despite the early hour.
"Good! you're up, I was bored John," Sherlock responded as he practically jumped away from his tea causing the warm liquid to spill slightly on the table. His long legs made a quick work of reaching John. John did not notice that he had a swab in his hand. He tugged at the Doctor's left arm and swabbed the area.
"Ow!" John screeched in a high-pitched voice as he pulled back too late, but the deed had been done. This did not improve John's mood.
"Sherlock, I know what you did last night," John was irritated and started to gesture with his right arm in between scratches.
"And that would be?" Sherlock asked evenly as he prepared to cultivate a culture and pulled out the appropriate items.
"You experimented on me while I was sleeping. My bloody left arm is bloody itchy!"
"Don't worry John. I collected most of my tissue samples while you were sleeping. You can wash your arm off now," Sherlock abandoned the tea completely and took a sip of coffee that was by his lab equipment.
"I DID wash my arm. It's still itchy." John said with growing anger.
"You know you should have asked. You could have ruined my experiment if I was not prepared." Sherlock went about the task of preparing a slide for his microscope.
"It itches," John's voice took on a whinny tone now.
"Good. Marvelous. Be quiet." Sherlock said distractedly in a quiet voice before adding. "Really John, you were a soldier, what's a little itch in the pursuit of science?"
John scratched with more vigor.
"You're not to do that again Sherlock. There are rules in society. There are boundaries." John paused angrily and put his hands on his hips. Right after giving one last good long scratch.
"SHERLOCK ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING?"
"Yes, yes John. Again, do Shut Up." Sherlock was surfing the internet on his mobile Smartphone now. "No need for concern John. What I rubbed on you is fairly harmless."
"Do you think that I'm an Idiot?" John immediately regretted the words that came out of his mouth.
"Of course not John," Sherlock paused thoughtfully.
"Well not in the traditional sense of the word." Sherlock opened another web browser while he spoke.
"I stop thinking that you were an idiot after the first day I met you. In fact, you're quite intelligent." He found what he looked for on the internet and with a graceful stretch, put the mobile down on a small unoccupied space on the table. Sherlock moved back to the microscope now.
John pinched his lips together and waited for it.
"Not as intelligent as me of course, but then remarkably few people are. Don't take it to heart, I'm unique."
"And, there it is." John muttered to himself.
"I'm glad that for the common masses, my head is slightly above water." John said sarcastically. Sherlock did not notice John's folded arms or glare.
"Oh course John," Sherlock waved his arm around magnanimously. "Of course."
John scratched his face absently.
"By the way John, I would keep the hands away from the face if I were you." Sherlock said offhandedly without even looking up.
John's hands froze mid scratch as he looked at his hand and lowered it. His eyes first widened then narrowed as he glared at Sherlock. Sherlock did not notice.
"I'm going to have to train him all over again." John muttered quietly as he suddenly turned then walked off to take another shower.
"Sorry John, What did you say?" Sherlock asked as half his head poked from behind the microscope.
John did not answer. Sherlock did not understand why John slammed his door a little too enthusiastically.