If You Love Me, Get Clean

Chapter Nine

2012

I keep thinking maybe if you let me back in
We can make it better, breaking every habit
Pull myself together, you could watch it happen
Let it happen, let it happen

Alice stumbles into the front room of 221b Baker Street, panting heavily, only to be greeted by Sherlock, John, and Mycroft staring at her.

Sherlock raises an eyebrow.

"I just... I saw... Uhm..."

"In your own time, Alice."

"Moriarty." She says lamely.

"Ah," Sherlock nods. "Saw the news, did you?"

"Yes."

"Hm," he rises to his feet, moving across to the tray of tea on the table. "Did you leave in the middle of work? You have two biros stuffed in your hair and a pipet sticking out your shirt pocket."

Alice reaches up to pat her hair, pulling out the two ballpoint pens from her plait, shoving them into the pocket with the pipet. "Why are you... Are you having a catch up or something? I'm lost."

"Sit down, Alice dear, you look quite pale." Mycroft gestures to Sherlock's chair.

Slowly, Alice crosses the room and drops into the black leather armchair.

What on earth is going on?

Jim Moriarty has been arrested after breaking into the Tower of London, spray painted 'Get Sherlock' on the glass case housing the crown jewels, and somehow got into The Bank of England and Pentonville Prison at the same time. All before midday. And these three oafs are sitting around drinking tea.

"Biscuit?" Sherlock's fingers holding out a custard cream shoot into her line of sight. She looks up at him. "Your sugar levels have dropped in your stress. Eat it."

Alice takes it from him wordlessly, biting it in half, chewing.

John's hand is tapping the arm of his chair, watching his cousin in concern. "Alice, are you... okay?"

Sherlock sets a fresh cup of tea on the little table beside her chair. He squeezes her shoulder.

"Moriarty was arrested." She says simply.

"That is, in fact, a good thing." Sherlock tells her.

Mycroft is studying her curiously. "I believe she's worried about your ego, brother dear."

Sherlock frowns. "What?"

Alice swallows the last half of her biscuit. "Well, the police caught him," she meets his eyes hesitantly. "Not... you."

"Oh. I appreciate your concern but, as you can see, I'm perfectly well," he shrugs. "I'll no doubt be called to court, given the message he left on the glass, I'm sure It'll be an interesting day for those who witness it."

Alice's eyes are popping out of her head. Sherlock sighs, squatting down in front of her.

"It's fine. He's in prison. Can't touch me," Alice presses her lips together, a tiny crease forming between her brows. Sherlock holds his hand up, splaying all five digits, and wiggles them. "I'm right here. Hello."

Alice reaches out and pokes his palm. "Hi."

They share a gentle smile. Both Mycroft and John feel the need to avert their eyes.

"Sorry for barging in. Didn't mean to bother you."

"You're never a bother, Alice," he says, matter of fact. "Barge in whenever you like."