Battle For The Crowns {A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction}

Chapter 9~ Renegades

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"I'm going without you, and that's final." I stated, snatched up the maps, and stormed over the door to leave.
"I'd like to see you try Jennings." Sherlock sneered back.
"Oh, you will, Holmes." And I slammed my flat door closed to get ready for my departure, tomorrow.
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I got out of bed at 4:20 the next morning, and packed up everything I could take for my journey. I'd send my team later to get all of my belongings, because if all went to plan, I'd never be back here again.
I had a small bag on my back that held the majority of my life, and my gear on. There was a sleek, black Jaguar waiting on me to get in.
"Peter!" I exclaimed once I got in.
"Hello, ma'am. It's been 2 months, yes?" He asked.
"Ah, I believe so. Well, let's go." I said, and leaned back, waiting for the purr of the engine. "Peter?"
"I was informed there was one more person, ma'am." He replied, confused.
"Wh- who- SHERLOCK."
"Ah, yes! Now, scoot over, Brooklyn, if you would." A voice from outside the car said.
I clenched my jaw and scooted to the left of the car so he could slip in.
"Gooooood morning, Brookie." Sherlock hummed from next to me.
"Morning, arsehole." I snapped back, and looked out the window.
"Aw, do you really not like me?" He poured.
"No, I do. And that's the problem, you idiot."
I looked over at him, and his expression went from teasing to serious, as fast as lightning strikes.
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing. Peter, drive faster please."
"But ma'am, the speed limit prohibi-"
"I do not give a damn about the laws, go flipping faster!" I snarled, my tone quick and sharp.
"Right." He whispered back, and sped faster down the highway, flying towards the airport.
I nodded in angry approval, and ignored the shocked look from Sherlock, wishing that the trip would be over, and maybe that our plane would crash.
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It was 6:00 before we reached the airport where my private jet was. I jumped out, and walked over to my crew who was waiting, but Sherlock was still right behind me, like a puppy following its master.
"Ah, so you must be Sherlock Holmes. You're the one I was informed of." Gray, the main guard of mine, told Sherlock.
"Yes, but may I ask who informed you?" He responded.
"James Moriarty did, sir."
I almost collapsed.
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Sherlock and I stepped onto the plane, and we plopped down onto the cushy leather seats.
"How the hell did he know?" I asked Sherlock, incredibly upset.
"Brooklyn, I honestly do not know, but right now, you need to get your emotions in check, and calm down."
"No, Sherlock I don't! You need to understand exactly what's going on! We're both in danger, we have been since I set foot into your door, and you need to realize that!" I yelled back.
"I DID! And that's why I'm sitting here, having this argument with you, stupid!"
"Excuse me? I don't think you understand. I was trying to protect you, I was trying to make sure you didn't get killed. I was TRYING not to let you get your ass captured, beaten, and drugged to high heaven, because the world is a bad place, and I'm one of the nicer things in it."
Sherlock narrowed his eyes, crossed his arms, and began a stare down with me, almost daring me to look away.
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The plane landed after around 3 hours of awkward silence between us. I had eventually put my music on, in order to drown out his complaining and muttering out.
Once we finally hit the ground and began getting off, I put everything back up and got ready to run.
"Ready?" I asked Sherlock.
"For.. What?"
"THIS!" I yelled, grabbed his hand, and ran out of the airport since, technically, we illegally landed. I heard officers yelling at us, and the plane taking off again, desperate to get out before something bad happened.
Sherlock eventually caught up to me, with his long strides.
"We.. Just have to.. Make it.. To the car outsi-" I panted, pushing myself forward, gripping onto Sherlock's hand tightly.
"Ri-ight." He wheezed back.
We got close to the doors, after running the entire length of the strangely large airport. I suppose Russia is a popular place, even with the almost unbearable weather. I kicked the door open, my hand slamming down onto the handicap button, in order to push the door open faster.
There was a steely black car outside, waiting for us.
"COME ON, GET IN!" I yelled back to Sherlock, waving frantically at my guards and drivers that I had made it through the airport.
One man opened the back door for us, and began waving us in quickly, probably a sign that security was gaining on us.
I let go of Sherlock's hand and practically dove through the door, and landed on my stomach in the car. Once Sherlock had safely jumped in as well, the car door was slammed shut and I screamed, "DRIVE! JUST DRIVE!"
The tires squealed as we pulled out, and began flying down the road, heading towards our location, otherwise known as HQ for the Black Legion..
"Okay. 2 questions! One, why the hell did we just sprint across a damn airport for no reason?" Sherlock asked me, incredibly upset.
"Well, I'm a bit of a wanted person in Russia and France at the moment.. I uh, did a few things I'm not proud of." I explained sheepishly.
"Like what?"
"Ah, well in France, I burned down or exploded, whichever, one of the Capitol buildings. In Russia, I defaced public property. In this case, it was a statue of the current Czar. Oops.." I giggled.
Sherlock smirked and nodded approvingly.
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"Brooklyn, what are we doing?" Sherlock asked sincerely.
"Well, right now, heading towards taking down one of the worlds newest and most dangerous threats." I said clearly.
"Wait, I thought you were saving it, and taking it back."
"Oh I am, but it's changed immensely since Moriarty took control. I have never met him before all of this began, so I didn't and still don't know what to expect. But honestly, I'm not even sure I want to go back. Life there was hard.." I trailed off, looking out the window as I thought of everything I'd been through.
"What happened?" He asked me quietly.
"Oh.. Everything. Honestly, Sherlock," I looked back at him, "I think that if I can just hand the power off to someone worthy, I'd be okay with leaving. But I also want to stay, because I need the excitement, the power, the danger. I crave that, Sherlock. And that's what's holding me back, not the killing, because I hated that part, oh no, something much worse than that. I craved the thrill of it. The thrill of having millions of people's lives in your hand every second, and you could crush them with a snap of your fingers, the blink of an eye, a whisper of a word. That's what drove me to it, and that's why I don't want to leave just yet. I liked being the Queen of the Chess Board, not a simple knight or a stupid pawn, the Queen of it all. God I'm insane, but.. I just need it." I explained, struggling for the right words to say.
"I know. And I understand, I really and truly do, but I cannot make that decision for you. I can only ask that you stay."
"Why in the world would you want me around?" I asked incredulously.
"You make life different and exciting, which in turn, makes it worth living."
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