Fleeting Impressions | J.M.

17: in sherlocks bedroom

The sky turned dark awhile ago, I woke up for no reason. I was having a good dream too. Though I can't remember what it was about.

A creek comes from in the room somewhere, I first think that it might be from the door, but it never moves. Well I guess I know why I woke up now.

A creek comes again before I sliding sound, like wood against wood. I flip over quickly, getting a taste of skin as a hand lays over my mouth roughly. The window open behind the silhouetted figure. I struggle against the man, kicking past the blankets, but he pins me down.

His head buries in my neck, legs straddling my thighs through the sheets. That's when I get a whiff of the scent that drifts off the stranger. A slight mint and cologne that's all too familiar. The smell brings back those few good memories and I wiggle out of his hold before throwing my arms around him. I should be mad at him. He betrayed me, but if I want comfort from anyone it would be James.

He immediately recuperates by sliding his fingers into my hair and pulling me closer into his chest. I breathe him in for a moment before I ask, "Why did you do that, you promised."

"I said I tampered with the tape, you were the one who walked out and never came back," he said in his Irish accent.

"James. I walked out to save you from getting in trouble. But I did so, thinking that you tampered with the tapes so that it looked like we were not there at all. You just took yourself out," I pushed him away. But even if I wasn't in his arms, I was now able to see his face. The dark eyes staring back at me.

His face blanks before he pounced with his lips on my own, kissing me deep into the mattress. His hands wondering.

I push him away again, only getting sucked in for a brief moment before coming to my senses.

"Stop distracting me," I growl out. James smirks in response. It's adorable, but also grates on my nerves. Does he not see how serious this is.

"I can go to jail," I say, defeated.

He sits up, "I told you that I would never let you go to jail. Remember that? I keep my promises. Even when I told you I tampered with the tapes, I wasn't lying. You were the one who jumped to the conclusion that I removed us both from the recordings."

Okay that's fair. "But why did you leave me in," I sit up to face him. I want to have this serious conversation.

His eye twitches, "I wanted to give you something to give you your brother." He ignores my question, pulling out the crown from his backpack that I didn't know he had. A small piece of paper follows.

I stare at the crown before looking up at James, back to the crown again and the paper. Thick card stock, creased just right.

My heart drops. Because I finally realize.

"This was all about Sherlock wasn't it," I whisper quietly. His back pausing before he reaches the window again.

He never says anything so I go on, "I don't even have to open this letter to know that it's a taunt for my brother. About how you got to me. It never had anything to do with me, you only wanted to get to Sherlock. To get under his skin. You can never leave anything alone, can you? Not until the game is done. This game. It's more important that me. It's the only thing that is important to you," I finish off. Throwing the crown down on the bedspread. "You never wanted a queen. I was just a pawn."

My breath is labored, thinking about all the times he played me. About the heart break he is causing me now. How could I be so stupid. I'm a Holmes for God's sake. But it was because I was a Holmes that I got into this mess.

I wasn't a girl that he liked from the ice cream shop. I was targeted. Because of my brother.

And everything is always about Sherlock.

"You were always the smart one, Beretta," we're his last parting words before he left through the window again. Never once looking back at me, voice steady.

All the while I slowly crumble on the inside. The least he could of done was look me in the eyes so see that damage he had done.

I sit in the dark for ages. Covers pulled up to my chin, but unable to sleep.

It's only when the sun starts peaking above the roofs peak do I finally open the card stock clutched tightly in my hand.

"Sherlock,

You fell, but so did I.

Except mine was before yours.

Nice try on the web, but I have the final piece.

-Your other half"

What a wonderful love note, it makes me want to puke. But I don't have the energy to analyze the text. My Holmes brain is turned off for good. That's what he picked me out for anyway, I guess I just wasn't as good enough for a criminal mastermind as Sherlock is.

I swing my legs over the bed, crown in my left hand and note in the other, when my phone lights up with a text.

'Did you know what happens once a pawn reaches the end of the board? it became a a queen'

'Not unless it doesn't play, goodbye James.'

I text back before turning my phone off.