“You can’t be allowed to continue. You just can’t.” Moriarty warned. “I would try to convince you, but everything I have to say has already crossed your mind.”
Sherlock squeezed Y/N’s hand before lifting the gun at Moriarty. “Probably my answer has crossed yours.”
Slowly and steadily, he lowered his hand so that the barrel pointed at the discarded bomb on the tiled floor. All three of them looked at the explosive winking its lights on the floor, one calm, one frightened, and one impressed.
To her immense surprise and confusion, “Stayin’ Alive” by the Bee Gees began to play. Y/N blinked, and Sherlock looked over his shoulder at her for a moment as the 70s classic echoed around the pool.
“Do you mind if I get that?” Moriarty sighed, pulling out his mobile which was the source of the music.
“Oh no, please.” Sherlock replied flatly. “You’ve got the rest of your life.”
“Hello?” Moriarty answered, looking like a petulant schoolboy as he stood there annoyed with the interruption. “Yes, of course it is. What do you want?”
The consulting criminal mouthed ‘sorry’ to his captives, and Sherlock mouthed back a reply.
“Say that again!” Moriarty bellowed suddenly, making Y/N start in fear. “Say that again and know that if you’re lying to me, I will find you and I will skin you.” He threatened. “Wait.” He said into the phone before lowering it from his face and approaching Sherlock and Y/N. He stopped at the bomb.
“Sorry,” He said. “Wrong day to die.”
“Oh. Did you get a better offer?” Sherlock asked.
“You’ll be hearing from me, Sherlock.” Moriarty pledged, turning and slowly walking away again.
“So if you have what you say you have, I will make you rich.” Moriarty said to the person on the phone. “If you don’t, I’ll make you into shoes.”
With a snap of his fingers, the red dots disappeared. The door slammed behind Moriarty once more.
“What the hell just happened?” Y/N breathed.
“Someone changed his mind.” Sherlock answered. “Question is: who?”
Sherlock pocketed his curiosity for the moment and ushered Y/N out of the building before Moriarty could come back again.
In the cab returning to Baker Street, Y/N’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Her body was thrumming with emotions, questions, and intense exhaustion. She snapped her gaze away from the window when Sherlock’s larger hand grabbed her own. He pressed his palm against her’s, intertwining their fingers.
Y/N looked at him, but he was staring out the window as though he hadn’t moved at all. She squeezed his hand in thanks, allowing the anxiety of the last hour begin to ebb away in the comfort of his company.
YOU ARE READING
THE BAKER STREET TRIO (SHERLOCK X READER)
FanfictionY/N Hudson grew up in America, daughter to a loving British mother and the leader of a notorious drug cartel in Florida. She grew into a brilliant and yet compassionate young woman with a penchant for solving mysteries. As soon as she could, Y/N esc...
