Calvin watched the snow fall outside her bedroom window as she got dressed to finish her Christmas shopping. A black turtleneck with stonewashed jeans and a pair of comfy brown boots were thrown on as she went through her list once more.
She'd already called and made arrangements for Mrs. Hudson's stove to be brought in a few days after Christmas, but she had the receipt (with the price marked off with a black marker, of course) to put into the card. Calvin already picked out John's laptop online, but would be picking it up today. She decided to buy Molly two tickets to see The Phantom of the Opera at a nearby prestigious theater company. John remembered her mentioning that it was one of her favorite movies.
Putting on a scarf and a thick winter coat, her mind was still thinking of presents. Lestrade would be having his car disappear two days after Christmas, to be brought back will all the necessary work done on it - new tires, fixed transmission, oil change, full tank of gas - the works. He would also be receiving a card notifying him of his 'late' present.
Sherlock was still the only one that Calvin could not find a suitable gift for. She thought of a new set of vials, beakers, and chemicals for his experiments, but feared that she wouldn't get the correct kind that he wanted or needed.
She also thought of a new violin, but decided that Sherlock deserved nothing less than a stradivarius... and she wasn't that wealthy. Scrapping that idea, she locked her door behind her and headed for the door. Shopping for Christofer, Annabelle, and Saria would bring her ideas... hopefully. As she passed the stairs leading up to 221B, she called, "Sherlock, I'm going shopping. Care to come?" She knew that he wouldn't, but extended the offer in a sort of joking manner.
It was silent for a minute before, "No. Isn't that a sort of thing a boyfriend does, then."
Calvin laughed. "Perceptive. But, as it seems, I lack one and the closest alternative isn't home, therefore I thought to extend the invitation to you."
"I have more important things to get done, thank you."
"Like brood over Irene?" she teased, and was not satisfied with any further answer from the man upstairs. She chuckled quietly as she headed for the street, taking a cab to her first destination; to pick up John's laptop.
After she had her first heavy bag to tote around, Calvin headed from store to store, picking up things for her family along the way. She meandered around the latest store, upset that she still hadn't found anything suitable for Sherlock. She set her bags down, tired, as she paced up and down a single isle filled with books. She brushed her fingertips over the shiny covers and spines on display, longing more for the scruffed edges of her books or the musty smell of a bookstore rather than the generic smell of the outlet.
She froze as a hand came to pull a book out of the neatly lined row, setting all the books in the shelf to lean one way, missing their piece that had been extracted. The hand was too familiar, and Calvin could all-too well imagine it stroking her cheek as a bomb was strapped to her chest.
Slowly, she turned and saw exactly what her mind's eye had painted. Jim Moriarty, in the flesh.
"I thought you allowed other people to hold the rifles." Calvin commented, face masterfully blank as he cocked his head and smiled at her, book in hand. She was commenting on the fact that he was confronting her in person, as he never had for anybody else. She used his words from the night at the pool.
"Nobody is being shot." he reminded her playfully, words with a loaded meaning. He glanced down at the book in his hand. "Romeo and Juliet, unlikely love in which both participants die at the end. Tragic." He was obviously referring to the few kisses that Sherlock and herself had shared. Unlikely romance, indeed. Nonexistent romance, actually.
Calvin blinked. "The only difference is that neither Sherlock nor I are stupid teenagers with warring families." she said, her voice a bit harsher than she intended as she struggled to maintain her composure.
"Hm, no, but Romeo does moon over Rosaline before he realizes his love for Juliet." Jim reminded her, smiling mockingly. "And I hear he's quite absorbed in another Miss. at the moment."
"You're finding parallels with no literary support." Calvin argued, feeling semi-secure being in public with Moriarty... although there was no good reason for that. He would do as he liked, public or no. She glanced at the open isle only a dozen steps away from her position. Jim followed her gaze and sighed.
"Oh, please, if you were so terrified of me you'd have had the police sweep your flat by now." he said, setting the book back on the shelf. "I think you like my attention. Care for me to be your Paris, Juliet?"
Calvin grimaced at his words. "I simply realize that you will do as you please." she said, answering his observation with a contradiction.
"Smart girl." Jim praised, leaning a bit closer and causing Calvin to take a step back from him. "Everyone thinks that 'calling the police' will stop bad things from happening. I think you'd be the girl to survive the horror movie, Miss. Diana."
She flinched at the name, and Moriarty drank in the sight of her vulnerability. "The police are only minutes away when seconds count." she murmured, glancing up at him. "Why are you here?"
Jim shrugged. "Felt like coming to say 'hi', shoot the breeze, maybe grab some dinner at Annabelle's restaurant." he smiled at her, a silent threat behind his eyes. Calvin's repressed memory of Chase's passing suddenly flashed in front of hers.
"Why did you kill Chase."
"I didn't kill Chase." Jim assured her with a frown, then looked thoughtful as Calvin's eyebrows knitted together. "I think the guy's name was Harold... I dunno. But I didn't do it." He took a seemingly harmless step towards her, causing her to automatically step back again.
"Allow me to rephrase it," Calvin said through gritted teeth. "Why did you have Chase killed."
He shrugged. "I felt his performance was something to be desired. Confidence was not a good look on that fellow." he mused, eyes zeroing in on the nervous tics that Calvin was beginning to display as her anxiety set in. "And to get your attention."
"Why? I'm not Sherlock." Calvin reminded him bitterly.
He looked thoughtful. "No, decidedly not since you are much prettier than he is, but I find you overwhelmingly interesting. And, as you can imagine, I do not have an overwhelming threshold of interest, so consider yourself special." He took one more step towards her, causing her to step back yet again, but this time her back hit the bookcase behind her and her foot hit the metal case with an audible metallic sound. He grinned at her, leaning closer.
"And here you are, with your back against the wall... figuratively and physically, of course." he taunted, smiling dangerously. "Just like when you lived with all your little friends and they started asking questions. 'Why don't you like scary movies, Calvin? Why are you up all night, Calvin?' And then the drunken 'Why don't you use your real name, Calvin?'. Oh, yes, they were oh-so understanding to your face, but they whispered about their strange little roommate when you weren't around or had locked yourself in your room, yet again, with a 'headache'."
Calvin was paralyzed. He knew so much about her life that it scared her so thoroughly that it physically hurt her. "You don't know anything about me."
"I know everything about you." Moriarty growled, his playful tone missing for one sentence and replaced with the menacing one that hid away until precise moments. Calvin shrunk back just slightly, fear flashing through her eyes. His playful exterior returned, and he tsked at her reaction as he cupped her chin in his hand.
"You don't have to hide from me, Diana." he said quietly, as if he were saying it to a lover, but with a mocking undertone. He was almost mirroring the position Calvin had been in with Sherlock two days before. Purposely. Disgusted, Calvin ripped her chin out of his grasp and pushed his away with the weight of her body, no longer frozen. He chuckled low in his throat as he watched her snatch up her bags and walk away.
"Hmm... Correction, you can't hide from me." he drawled after her, taking a few steps backwards until he started to whistle. Calvin looked back over her shoulder and watched him saunter away.
OoOoOoOo
When she arrived home that evening, Calvin told John of her encounter with Moriarty, leaving out the part about the 'romance' with her and Sherlock. There wasn't much that they could do, but John made her promise to be careful... as if that would safeguard her against Moriarty's threat.
Despite him asking her to stay close to them, Calvin insisted that she wrap the presents in her own flat, not wanting John to figure out his present nor see anyone else's. It only took about an hour to wrap John's laptop and put receipts or tickets in the others' cards, along with a heartfelt Christmas message signed by her. Presents would be dropped off at her old apartment tomorrow, since she would not be spending Christmas with her family. She piled the cards and the gift in her closet, just in case, and glanced out the window. Large, fluffy flakes of snow were falling in the darkness.
She threw on a coat over her t-shirt and headed outside to sit on the steps in just her pajama pants and slippers. She liked the feeling of the snow brushing against her face and melting slightly as it came in contact with her skin, and smiled at the white dotting her long brown hair.
"Didn't John warn you to be careful." Sherlock's voice told her from the door. Calvin smiled, turning to face him.
"If Moriarty wanted to kill me, he would have done it in the store or he would just come up the stairs." she reminded him, blinking away the snow falling on her lashes. Sherlock didn't answer.
"Did you get all of your shopping done?" he asked, changing the subject.
Calvin grinned. "You mean to ask, did I get my shopping for you done?" she responded, amused.
"Yes."
"No. I still haven't found anything suitable for you, Sherlock. Any idea what you'd like?"
He hesitated. "I'm sure whatever you decided upon will be satisfactory." he answered cryptically, and Calvin rolled her eyes.
"Well when you put it like that..." she mumbled sarcastically, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. She sighed just slightly, enough that he heard and noted it. He cleared his throat.
"I will be quite happy with whatever you get me, Calvin." he assured her, addressing her with her name as he did not usually do. "You don't have to get me anything, however."
"Christmas is kind of my thing." Calvin told him with a new smile. "Not for the novelty or the alcohol or anything... but I like the giving. I always have. Even when I was little I would make cards or crafts for every member of my family, even though they were such... assholes." She shook her head and laughed a bit. She didn't swear often, so the word felt slightly unfamiliar on her tongue and to her ears, but it was the most accurate word that came to mind to describe them right now.
"Pretentious, even. But every year, all of them would get a little something from me. Though, half the time my parents weren't home for Christmas, anyway, and I often found my gifts in the trash the next day. But every year I kept it up until the day I left." Calvin sighed, glanced back at Sherlock, and then laughed with a shake of her head.
"I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm telling you this." she said, standing up and brushing the snow off of her striped pajama pants.
"No, it's... fine." Sherlock told her, stepping back to allow her back into the warm apartment complex. He shut the door behind her and turned to see her shaking snow off of her coat. She turned and locked eyes with him.
"What was Christmas like with your family?" she ventured to ask, making her sad thoughts of her earlier Christmases vanish with a smile as they headed up the stairs to 221B.
"Nondescript." he answered blandly, entering the flat where she instantly took to the couch as he sat in his armchair, immediately taking his violin and balancing it on his shoulder.
Calvin raised an eyebrow. "Somehow, that doesn't convince me." she teased, settling back in the comfort of the familiar couch with a blanket over her slightly dampened body. However, she dropped the subject. Just because she gave way too much information about her past, didn't make Sherlock obligated to share his. Her eyes were closing already as Sherlock began to play a soft tune for her, and that was the last thing she remembered.
OoOoOoOoOo
Christmas feels and Moriarty. Both shouldn't be in the same chapter, but we've all got to push the envelope some time.
I enjoyed writing this chapter, and I hope you enjoyed reading it! I had some trouble writing Moriarty, but I think I did it fairly well for my first time writing in a not already pre-determined setting, like the pool.
By the way, I'm curious, how do you picture Calvin? We know that she has blue eyes and long brown hair with bangs, but is there any celebrity that you picture her as? Just curious, because I don't really have one. She's just kind of... Calvin... Let me know in the reviews or PMs!
Gah, I'm tired. I need to sleep. I'm always tired when I write anymore.
Just a heads up, by the way, if there isn't a new chapter by this Thursday, then there won't be until Tuesday. Sorry, guys! I don't wanna leave you hanging but I won't have time to write while I'm at a con!
Anyway, Jess needs sleep! Let me know what you thought of this chapter, I love ya'lls!
Good night!
Jess