Moriarty's Phantom

Chapter 7

Phantom's POV:

"Mr. Watson, could you tell me if there is a black car out front, please?" I ask him. " Yes there is. A black Mini Coop. Is that your ride?" he asks me back. "Yes, Thank you, Mr. Watson and it was great meeting you." I say with a bright smile. "You too. And it's Dr." he replies and I walk out the front door shutting it behind me. 'Phew, that was close, but I think they bought it.' I think to myself. The tone in Sherlock's voice tells me that he didn't really care, which is a very good thing. I do, however, feel bad for Alice and John because they have to deal with him on a daily basis. No matter, that is not my circus, but soon, they will be my monkeys. At least, Sherlock will be. Dad's driver gets out of the car to escort me to the back seat to make my scam believable. He helps me in and closes the door. I take my glasses off and notice that my father isn't in the back. Interesting... All of sudden, I hear, "What happened? Tell me everything."

I jump at the sudden voice and I clutch my chest. "Jesus Christ, Dad! You almost gave me a feckin' heart attack!" I shout at him trying to catch my breath. "I'll give you more if you don't bloody tell me what the hell took you so damn long!" he shouts back at me in a threatening tone. "Ok! Ok! Jesus." I begin, "Well, everything went according to plan. Up until Sherlock, John, and Alice decided to come back early." "Well, what the hell was the whole 'call me' thing about? Why didn't you want me to speak? Why did you wait so long to respond to my text?" Daddy rambles. "Daddy, listen. First, I needed you to be on the line so I could execute my escape plan. Second, I couldn't have you talk because it would distract me and my cover would have been blown. Third, I didn't respond right away because I had to think of an escape plan. Luckily, they bought it." I reply in relief. "Did you give them reason to doubt your story?" Daddy inquires. "No. I executed it to perfection. Everything fell into place and nothing was rash." I say proudly. "Well done, sweetheart. Well done. Daddy is so very proud of you." Daddy beams at me through the rearview mirror. I lean back against my seat and place my earphones (I hate the earbuds that come with IPods. They hurt my ears and they never stay, which drives me crazy) over my ears, turn my IPod on, let the music play, smile proudly at a job well done, and enjoy the ride home.

Jim's POV:

I can't help but beam with pride as I look through the rearview mirror at the child in the back seat. God, she is beautiful, absolutely gorgeous. You know, it hasn't been the easiest thing raising a child as a single parent and a criminal mastermind, keeping said child's identity a secret, and keeping the mother as far away from the child as possible, but this whole journey has been worth it. I would do anything for this kid. Hell, I would give her the world if I could. I never ever in my 35 years of living thought I would say that I would give my life for someone, but that all changed the moment I met my little Phantom. If it came to my life or hers (which I highly doubt), I would choose her in a heartbeat. I just can't take my eyes off of her. You know even after 10 years I still can't believe that she's mine. Like, I made her! I look at her and I realize what she has just accomplished. I have very high hopes for her future.

We get back to the house and I do the honor of helping Phantom out of the car and escorting her to the house. "So, what happens next?" I ask. "Patience, Daddy. Patience." is all she answers. Patience. Really? I mean I know that I promised her that she has the lead on this, but I think I have a right to know what the bloody hell she's doing, right? I see her talking to Seb, probably about the next step. I try to listen in, but it appears I am too late because they disperse. Phantom flops herself onto the couch and grabs her laptop. Her fingers start sprinting along the keyboard and I can hardly tell what she's doing. I go upstairs to change out of my suit so I can shower and give her some space to do what she needs to do to keep her plan going according to schedule. When she was about 5 years old, she was diagnosed with a severe form of OCD where she becomes manic if something is out of place or something doesn't go how she wants it. I don't even want to imagine what she would become if this plan fails. It would probably be worse than the last time she went manic (that's a story for another time). I go down downstairs wearing a white muscle top and grey sweat pants. I find Phantom still on the couch, right where I left her. I walk over to the sofa, pick her legs up, sit down beside her, and place her legs in my lap. To be quite honest with you, I would never be able to accomplish what Phantom has. The fact of the matter is that I am rubbish when I comes to technology. I can't tell you how many phones I have gone through because I disagreed with them. It came to the point where Phantom had to teach me how to make a call and text. Even now, my current phone and I have disagreements, but Phantom intervenes before I can kill it. "Daddy, I have something I want to show you." Phantom finally speaks up. "You do? Where?" I inquire. "It's on my laptop. Look!" she directs. She hands me her computer and my widen in shock at the sight before me. "Phantom, what is this? What did you do?" I ask in shock. The sight before me is inside 221B Baker Street. "This is the part I didn't tell you about. I literally thought about it before you came in. I figured I would surprise you. What do you think?" she replies sweetly. God, she's adorable. "I think you are bloody brilliant!" I place her laptop on the table, pull her the rest of the way onto my lap, grab her gently behind her head, and place a big kiss on her forehead proceeding to tickle her stomach. She starts laughing hysterically. "Stop! Stop, Daddy!" she says between giggles. "Not until you tell me what's next." I tease. "Ok. Ok. I give. I give!" she surrenders. She starts coughing and gasping for air and I stop tickling her.

Phantom's POV:

I start having a huge coughing fit and gasping for air from laughing so hard. Confound it! Why must Daddy resort to tickling to get me to squeal? I mean come on! He is the bloody consulting criminal for god's sake! You and I both know that he has a lot of different ways to get someone to squeal and what does he use on me? Tickling. Fecking tickling! Whatever, I mean after 10 years I think I'm used to it. "If you must know, the next step it to wait until Sherlock has no cases and then I will set off the bomb." I state. "That's it?" Daddy asks very confused. "Pretty much yea. I mean, if I set the bomb off now or tomorrow he will figure out it was me. If it goes off in a few weeks, I wouldn't even cross his mind." I reassure him. "That's good! I didn't think about it that way. Well done, Phantom, well done." Daddy says. For the rest of the evening, Daddy and I just relax on the couch and I make him suffer through my favorite show, The Vampire Diaries (it is Thursday night after all). All is right in my world.

*8 weeks later*

Sherlock's POV:

Days have passed since Alice and I returned from Belarus. I don't even know why I took the case in the first place; it was not even worth my time. I suppose since it was the first case brought to my attention in the previous weeks I had to keep my mind occupied. Since we have returned, there have been no cases and I have nothing to do. Alice is in her room on her laptop with her earbuds in (how she can stand them is beyond me) and I'm in the sitting room wearing a blue silk robe and blue striped pajamas. I grab my gun and proceed to lounge in my chair. I point my gun at the wall and shoot. BANG. BANG. BANG. "What the hell are you doing?" John asks entering the flat. "Bored." I reply. "What?" John questions again. "BORED!" I shout. I jump out of my chair and shoot the wall two more times, one out in front of me and one around my waist. I walk toward John and he rips the gun out of my hand. "I don't know what's got into the criminal classes. Good job. I'm not one of them." I mumble. "So you take it out on the wall?" John questions. "Oh, the wall had it coming." I respond. "Where's Alice?" John inquires. "In her room I suppose. That's where she was the last time I looked." I say not caring. The secret is, I do care about Alice. I am actually glad that Mycroft chose me to look after her after the accident involving her parents. She really is a good kid, troubled, but a good kid. I flop on the couch and John inquires about the "Russian case". "Belarus. Open and shut domestic murder. Not worth my time." I say plainly. "Aw, what a shame." John says with a sarcastic tone. He proceeds walking to the kitchen. By the sigh he makes, I deduce that he notices the kitchen is a mess but proceeds to ask if there is anything to eat. I hear him open the refrigerator, gasp, and then shut it quickly. He saw the head. He asks about it and I tell him about how I'm measuring the coagulation of saliva after death. I say something about the earth going around the moon or some rubbish and he corrects and I shout about how that's not important and he leave. Mrs. Hudson comes in saying that John should have bundled up more since it is cold outside and proceeds to ask if we had a little domestic. "Look at that, Mrs. Hudson. Quiet. Calm. Peaceful. Isn't hateful?" I say out of boredom. "Oh, I'm sure something will turn up, Sherlock. A nice murder, that'll cheer you up." I groan in agreement and say, "Can't come too soon." "Hey! What have you done to my bloody wall?" she says loudly. I turn to look at it. "I'm putting this on your rent young man." she says sternly. I smile at my masterpiece, look toward the front, and heave a sigh. Just as my sigh is finished... BOOM! 

*Did you miss me? Of course you did. I finally finished chapter 7 so it's up to you guys if you like it or not. You know the drill. Enjoy! ~ thedoctorsvamp