Millie's POV
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I'm sitting in a late-night cafe, staring into my coffee cup, and admiring the oily sheen on the surface. Sherlock was right. John really is a good man. They make a good pair, those two. Sherlock is a genius. A genius, that lacks intelligence in human interaction. Whereas John- he's everything Sherlock isn't. He knew something wasn't right. Perhaps even before I knew it myself.
I don't like Irene Adler.
She's manipulative. In many ways, she's more intelligent than Sherlock, John, and me put together. She knows people. I've never encountered anyone in Sherlock's limited circle of friends who could make him act in the way he did back then.
I chuckle darkly to myself. I sound jealous.
"Is this seat taken?"
"No," I say, without looking up.
"It's cold outside."
Of course it's him.
Leaning back into the metal chair, smiling. I feel distinctly sick. This man is everywhere.
"Yes."
Pause.
"What are you doing" he says amiably.
I fleetingly flash the phone screen at him, and try to answer normally.
"Just texting."
He leans in, and says softly, "So you're making enemies already, Millie Shon?"
I stare it him, confused. At this proximity, I can analyse him properly. It's just as strange as before. If Sherlock's psychological observation yielded a blank slate, Moriarty exudes static uncertainty. I can't tell if he's angry, or content, or feeling nothing at all. Boredom, however, is detectable. A pressing, encompassing boredom. It doesn't make sense.
"What?"
"Irene Adler."
"How did you-?" I begin, but stop myself mid-sentence. I don't want to know.
"How did I know? I have my methods."
He watches me in silence for a good five minutes, but, just as I consider getting up to leave, he stands up, smoothing out the creases form his jacket lapel. He says nothing, and, as I watch his figure disappear into the dark street, I get the impression that he's just scanned me. Catergorised me. Marked me, in his head.
I know that I won't be going back to my apartment tonight.
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John's POV
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Looks like I'm sleeping on the sofa.
Irene hasn't left the room, so I can only assume she'll be staying the night. There's a hard hammering at the door, frantic, and I sigh out loud, because to be honest, I've reached saturation point in terms of drama today. I open the door, to see Millie, for the second time this evening.
" I know this is short notice, but I need to stay tonight. Urgent," she says.
"You're more than welcome Millie, but we're a bit limited on space tonight," I begin, and laughter from upstairs completes my explanation for me.
"Please- I can sleep down here on the floor, if necessary."
Something in her voice makes me realise that turning her away isn't an option. Something's gone wrong, and she's staying tonight; she needs too. Wordlessly, I close the door behind her, and offer her the sofa. She thanks me, obviously relieved, but continues to look up at the ceiling every now and then, jumping every time she hears footsteps or voices. She's making me edgy.
It's going to be a long night.
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YOU ARE READING
Guns, Games, and Mutual Appreciation ~ A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction {Book I}
Fanfiction"My name is Sherlock Holmes. It is my business to know what other people do not know." ~Sherlock Holmes, The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle. Sherlock Holmes is a man of impenetrable coolness; logic rules over empathy, and reason underpins all actio...
