From desk worker detective to Sergeant at Scotland Yard, Adelaide Gregson has come a long way from her days in Manhattan. When one consulting detective catches her eye, things get complicated. When a case now means life or death, will sentiment prov...
My eyes are closed. I couldn't watch Sherlock pull the trigger. I'd made peace with the decision though. Sherlock and I were going to die, but so would Jim Moriarty, and that was enough for me.
My eyes burst open when instead of an explosion, I heard Stayin' Alive playing throughout the pool. I looked to Sherlock questioningly, as he did the same to me. Neither of us knew where the music was coming from. I looked to Jim Moriarty who was rolling his eyes. Instead of being confused by the music, he was just annoyed.
"Do you mind if I get that?" Jim suddenly asked. It was his phone ringing, at a time like this.
"Oh no, please. You've got the rest of your life." Sherlock said, still pointing the gun at Jim. He pulled his phone out of his pocket.
"Hello? Yes, of course it is. What do you want?" Jim said, annoyed. Did someone just seriously ask him 'Is this Jim Moriarty?'.
'Sorry'. Jim mouthed, as he slowly turned around.
"Oh it's fine.' Sherlock mouthed back.
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"Say that again!" Jim suddenly shouted and a hush fell over the room. "Say that again and know that if you're lying to me, I will find you, and I will skin you."
Sherlock looked to me in disbelief. Jim Moriarty was a whole new brand of psychopath. Jim put the call on hold and began walking towards the two of us.
"Sorry, wrong day to die." He spoke in a somber tone.
"Did you get a better offer?" I asked, rudely.
"You'll be hearing from me, Sherlock." Was his only answer. Jim continued to turn around, and walk towards the exit.
"If you have what you say you have, I will make you rich. If you don't, I'll make you into shoes." Jim spoke into the phone before snapping his fingers and leaving the pool. As he snapped I noticed all the little red dots disappearing. He had called off the snipers.
"What the hell just happened?" I asked, in shock of the whole situation.
"Someone changed his mind," Sherlock spoke, "Question is, who?"
The two of us immediately left the pool. Before hailing a cab Sherlock took off his coat and wrapped it around me. It was chilly outside and I was wearing very little. I looked like a high price call girl. I got into the cab and the two of us decided it would be best not to tell Lestrade about what happened. Jim would be coming back, we just weren't sure how or when.
The next few weeks had been normal. No serial killers, no bombers, no Jim Moriarty. I had seen Sherlock a lot more though. Per Mycroft's request I kept him busy. It wasn't just because of Mycroft that I spent time with Sherlock, I genuinely like him and wanted to be around him.
Sherlock and John seemed to be solving some smaller cases together, which I enjoyed reading on John's Blog. They had come to the Yard sometimes for some of the cases, but otherwise not much was going on.
