How They Met Alice (BBC Sherlock Fanfiction)

Chapter 81

(Alice’s POV: )

Kitty Riley could be heard pulling up outside her home from inside where we were waiting. Opening the door, she walked along the hall to the door of her flat, and then she paused, most likely looking at the slightly ajar and freshly lock-picked door. Hesitantly she pushed the door open and reached for the light switch on the wall. The lights came on and she was greeted with the sight of as three of us sitting side by side on her sofa (quite squished together.

“Too late to go on the record?” Sherlock asked sarcastically.

Not long afterwards, Kitty was sitting in her armchair while we stood in the middle of the room. Sherlock was using a hairpin to pick the lock on his and John’s handcuff. I had gotten mine off already, but Sherlock refused to let me get his and John’s off for some reason.

“Congratulations. The truth about Sherlock Holmes,” I said sarcastically, my arms folded. Sherlock freed his hand and gave the hairpin to John before starting to pace back and forth in front of Kitty.

“The scoop that everybody wanted and you got it. Bravo!” He congratulated her sarcastically.

“I gave you your opportunity. I wanted to be on your side, remember? You turned me down, so...” She began. I looked at John to see if he knew what she was talking about. He shrugged.

“And then, behold, someone turns up and spills all the beans. How utterly convenient. Who is Brook?” Sherlock interrupted. Kitty shook her head, refusing to tell him anything more.

“Oh, come on, Kitty. No-one trusts the voice at the end of a telephone,” I rolled my eyes. John finally freed his own hand from the cuffs.

“There are all those furtive little meetings in cafés; those sessions in the hotel room where he gabbled into your Dictaphone. How do you know that you can trust him? A man turns up with the Holy Grail in his pockets,” Sherlock continued.

“What were his credentials?” I butted in sternly. Outside in the hallway there were the sounds of someone coming in through the main front door. Now Kitty looked towards the door of the flat and rose to her feet with a concerned look on her face as someone pushed her door open. Sherlock turned to follow her gaze as Jim Moriarty, unshaven and with his hair messy and wearing casual clothes including a cardigan, walked in with a shopping bag.

“Darling, they didn’t have any ground coffee so I just got normal...” He began, but he trailed off and raised his eyes and stared in terror at the sight of Sherlock, whose own eyes widened. Jim dropped the shopping bag and backed away until he bumped into the wall behind him, holding his hands up protectively in front of him. My jaw dropped and my eyebrows shot up.

“You said that they wouldn’t find me here. You said that I’d be safe here,” Jim said, his voice trembling.

“You are safe, Richard. I’m a witness. He wouldn’t harm you in front of witnesses,” Kitty assured. John, his face full of shock, pointed at Jim.

“So that’s your source? Moriarty is Richard Brook?!” John shouted, his teeth bared as he glared at Jim, breathing heavily in pure fury.