Guns, Games, and Mutual Appreciation ~ A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction {Book I}

Chapter 26- Safety Pins

John's POV

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I think it's fair to say that not even Sherlock Holmes anticipated that. Millie's recollection of events has shocked us both. I mean- it's not that it's not believable, as we can both imagine Moriarty going to such lengths in order to gain the advantage, but the fact that Millie responded... now that's what has stunned us.

"So... you have a thing for Moriarty?" I say, after a few minutes silence.

Millie looks at me scathingly. In hindsight, that was probably not the best choice of words.

"No. I don't," she says firmly.

"Then why-"

"I told you. I don't know."

Another painfully drawn out silence.

"Are you sure-"

"Yes! I don't have a 'thing' for anyone, especially not for that man."

I raise an eyebrow.

She stirs her tea thoughtfully, although she hasn't drunk any, and looks like she's about to speak when Sherlock, who's been silent for the last thirty minutes, says-

"It's quite clever, actually. Him using your inexperience against you. Kissing you was very clever, because you don't understand it. And anything you don't understand is a weakness, a weapon that can be used to disarm you."

She studies him intently, then nods. 

"Yes. You're right. It's not like he harbours any romantic feelings towards me, I don't even think it's lust- Moriarty isn't capable of that, either. But other than unnerving me, what was the point? He said he's not playing a game with you anymore, Sherlock. He has to be lying."

"He's using you, like he used John, because he wants to expose me. Kissing you was like strapping John to a coat filled with bombs- it was designed to trigger a response."

I sigh. This is the problem with intellectuals. They have to come up with a ridiculously complex explanation. It seems fairly obvious to me. 

"Or maybe Moriarty, being human, actually feels the need to express something other than asexuality?"

They turn around to face me, their faces identical masks of condescending pity and irritation.

"Sorry for stating something normal," I mutter, putting my hands up. "But how do you know that he hasn't given up playing with you, Sherlock- he might be telling the truth, you know, he might be manipulating Millie because you just aren't as interesting to him anymore?"

"Well... we don't know, not for sure, but it seems highly improbable that Moriarty would just give up, not after your double suicide act failed," Millie says, reaching over Sherlock to place her teacup back on the table. Sherlock is staring at her, eyes narrowed.

"Yes, we do."

I look at him.

"Yes we do... ?" I ask, confused.

"We know for sure that he hasn't given up. That he's still playing the game."

"How?" 

"Millie, feel your collar." Sherlock says simply, sipping his coffee.

She stares at him. Then she slowly reaches up to her neck, and traces the outline of her collar. Her searching fingers pause at the very back, a point that is otherwise hidden by her messy curls, and her mouth opens slightly in shock. She sweeps her hair out of the way, and bends down saying-  "John. Get it off. Now. Please."

I look at Sherlock, who nods at me. I reach down and slowly unclip the safety pin and the piece of paper it holds. Millie straightens up, rubbing her neck, and holds out her hand silently. She reads it slowly.

You're losing Sherlock

It is definitely Moriarty's writing. I recognise it from the footage of him stealing the crown jewels-  and the o's are embellished with smiling faces.

"I thought it was a needle," says Millie quietly, more to herself than us. "When it pricked me."

"How did he get it on to you?! I mean, someone like you can't just miss having a safety pin clipped onto your clothing...?" I ask, baffled.

She looks into the distance, lost in thought, apparently not having heard my question. Sherlock is silently signalling for me to shut up, and, although I'm desperately confused, I'm about to back out when-

"When his hands moved to my neck... Why didn't I realise?"

"I gathered... but how- oh," I stop, as the penny drops. "Er.. sorry, Millie, I didn't think-"

Sherlock rolls his eyes.

I surprise myself by shuddering violently for a moment. They look at me, bewildered.

"Sorry, sorry... I didn't mean to do that.. just.. mental image.. not good."

Sherlock is giving me a death glare. This is a first. Him correcting me for poor social conduct.

I mentally kick myself. That was so desperately tactless. I'm about to start apologising all over again, when Millie lips start to turn upwards. She struggles for a second with her resolve, then crumbles, and starts to giggle uncontrollably. Sherlock's mouth does some pretty amusing acrobatics too, as he fights laughter.

I can't believe this. 

I start to laugh.

"This isn't funny,"splutters Millie.

And although it really isn't, we continue giggling like schoolchildren for the next five minutes.

Must be the shock, I tell myself.

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