Sherlock Story

Forgotten Memories, Chapter 157

*Thanks so much for reading. Please do not forget to comment.

A disclaimer: Sherlock belongs to BBC along with the talented writers Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss; along with the 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.

Warning*****. *** T rated ****. ****Violence. Talk of blood.

"… One trick is to put your king between the enemy's king and pawn-that's often enough for a draw. But do calculate a few moves ahead, because there's a big difference between drawing and almost drawing…"

… Drawing or almost drawing III…"

"Do not bite at the bait of pleasure, till you know there is no hook beneath it."

~ Thomas Jefferson

Current Day

One Hour Earlier

Sebastian's steps slowed then stopped. He looked around wearily and frowned before saying in a whispered angry tone. "You were not to contact me Ms. Riley!" He was careful to stress the use of her last name.

Sebastian face grew somber as he listened on the phone. He started to walk toward his suite. "That idiot," he whispered a hiss. "Do we know if they were able to take him to the drug dealers, or was he rescued?" He was only a yard away from his door now. He listened as he opened his suite door.

"You mean to tell me no one knows if he was rescued?" It was becoming harder to control the volume of his voice. Why did Riley not ask Anderson that very important question before she hung up on the man? And, to think, she called Anderson an idiot.

He swung open the door as he listened to her try to justify her actions. He closed it with a little more force than necessary. He threw his car keys on a close table. The keys slid across the wood and came to land precariously on the edge.

He unbuttoned his jacket as he entered the large open living area that was directly before his bedroom. He opened his mouth to give a scathing remark when a slight movement out of the corner of the semi-darkened room caught his attention. He turned toward the movement with the mobile still up to his ear. He froze suddenly, before he forced himself to relax. He disconnected and silenced his mobile. The fact that Riley was still speaking, was never a consideration.

Current Day

Current Time

Agent Thomas, or Blake Smith, as he was known, rose to leave. He ran a thumb gently along the underside of her cheek as she smiled a wide smile. She watched him as he sat up and pulled his shirt on. She was silent as she watched closely.

"This is the first time you've… stayed," she said with a smile. "Why do you have to leave so quickly?"

"We both have demanding jobs," Blake said with a smile, his dimpled cheeks showing.

Abigail turned dramatically on her back; the first hint of a pout graced her lips. "You give new meaning to the word dedicated." She turned to look at him. "This is the first time you've left professor Colville's side, now you tell me you're leaving."

Blake put on his shoes and concentrated on tying the lace. "The fact that I am leaving is to be kept between me and you, tell no one." Thomas looked toward her to gauge her understanding.

Abigail rolled her eyes as she dramatically put up her hand and pretended to swear an oath. "I Abigail Rolland, swear not to tell the world that you, Blake Smith will be leaving soon," her voice suddenly became quiet, "and taking my heart with you."

Blake sighed as he came close and kissed her looking down. "A bit dramatic Abigail." His tone was not mocking, but tender.

"You say you'll be back, but you won't tell me anything." A tear ran down Abigail's face. She looked at him and smiled. "I don't know how to pretend that I don't care."

Blake held her hand and pulled her up to sit. He sat beside her quietly for a few minutes. She saw him wrestling with himself as if he was coming to a decision. Blake then, opened his mouth and spoke. He told her nothing specific, only the day he would be leaving, that he would contact her as soon as he could, and that he felt as strongly for her as she did for him. He then pulled her to her feet and walked slightly in front as they made their way to the front door.

He held her hand as he walked backwards out the door. Their hands eventually stretched then parted because of distance. Blake walked a yard away, and then turned back around. He walked back to Abigail. He pushed his hands in his pocket then pulled out a necklace.

"I wasn't sure if this was the right time to give this to you. This is new to me as well." He hesitated, "It was my mother's." he stretched his arm and fastened the necklace around her neck. "I promise, I'll be back for that," he looked into her eyes. "Trust me," he smiled and raised an eyebrow.

She smiled a dazzling smile, "I'll keep it safe for you then. Promise."

He tucked a long curly strand of hair behind her ears. He kissed her then. It was long, warm, and full of promise. She smiled as he gave her a lingering look, and then walked away without turning back. Abigail continued to smile as Blake opened his motorcar and drove away. She continued to smile when he was gone, but her smile changed.

Current Day

One Hour Earlier

A figure sat in the corner of the room sipping on something. Sebastian, after disconnecting his phone conversation, put the mobile away as casually as possible. He stood still for a moment as a dozen thoughts collided into each other in his mind. He was in uncharted waters, so to speak. Sitting in one of the armchairs by the wall, was Jim Moriarty. The half-lit room revealed only the silhouette of the Consultant Criminal. Sebastian decided to make the first move.

"Sir."

Sebastian kept his voice as even as possible as he walked confidently towards Moriarty. Moriarty motioned toward the chair next to him. He walked close to the chair and slowly sat opposite Moriarty without comment. As casually as he could, he picked up the remote control and pressed the button. The lights brightened, increasing the room's illumination greatly. Sebastian glanced to his left and looked at Moriarty. Moran resisted the urge to frown. Even with the increase in light, it still seemed as if the room was too dull, as if the light was being somehow swallowed up.

Sebastian raised his chin and squared his shoulders. He was a soldier; he had both seen and caused men to die. He would not give in to superstitious thoughts, or the thinking of the feeble and weak minded. He pushed all such feelings aside. He was Sebastian Moran; there would be no displays of weakness.

There was a moment of silence. Moriarty handed a glass to Sebastian. Moran took it without comment. He took a sip. It was wine, white wine in fact.

Moran took another small sip. "Thank you sir."

It was one of the expensive wines, a few thousand pounds at least. Instead of being enjoyable, it stuck in his throat. He crossed his legs. One hand rested on his leg. The other held the wineglass, as it rested on his thigh. He looked intently into the clear liquid as his eyebrows knitted together briefly.

Moran spoke while still looking at his wineglass. "How was your trip Sir?"

Sebastian already knew that it was successful, but he did not think that he could stand the silence much longer.

"Almost everything is in place Seb. You did a very good job here. You did all that I asked with your usual level of dedication, and excellence." Moriarty put his wineglass down after taking one last sip. "Well, there were one or two small variations to my orders, weren't there Seb."

Moriarty winked, as he waved one hand gracefully. He contorted his upper body so that he could pick up a computer from the floor, without leaving his seat. The computer was opened; it was already on. An earpiece was pushed into the Consultant Criminal's ear, before the on button was pushed. He positioned the computer where Moran could see the screen. Moriarty, at that point, stopped looking at the computer; he looked intently into the eyes of Moran.

"Scire quis sit Magister," Moriarty said slowly.

Moran did not know what Moriarty had said. He was not sure he wanted to know.