I Need a Gangsta//Jim Moriarty

III. "Nothing Wrong with Just a Taste of What You Paid for."

Sherlock looked down at the image before him.

Amalthea sat curled up on the couch, in what looked like, a rather uncomfortable position.

Sherlock cursed under his breath. She had come up here after the Moriarty incident and fallen asleep.

He placed his arms under her legs and back and lifted her into his arms, bridal style. She stirred a little but snuggled into his chest.

He walked back to his room and laid her on the bed, pulling the blanket over her. He thought about sleeping on the couch or looking through a case but decided against it.

He laid beside his sister, his back against hers and closed his eyes to let sleep consume him.

"How was your day?" Teenage Mycroft asked his younger sister. Amalthea grumbled in response.

"Some kids were picking on me. Imbeciles."

Sherlock and Mycroft exchanged glances. "Which ones?" Sherlock asked.

She turned around to a group of boys that were standing on the corner.

The two brothers nodded at each other. "Amalthea, why don't you go home. We'll catch up with you." She shrugged in response and the brothers stood shoulder to shoulder.

"Shall we play deduction, brother mine?" Mycroft smiled.

"I bet you £10 the tall one soils his pants," Sherlock said with a grin.

"It's a bet."

They walked over to the group of boys and began exploiting all their secrets one by one. Many of which, could be used for blackmail.

In the end Mycroft owed Sherlock money and the group of boys never bothered their sister again.

Sherlock's eyes snapped open and inhaled the mouthwatering scent of food. He stood to his feet and stretched walking out into the kitchen. Amalthea was standing over the stove in a black robe. Her hair slightly tangled.

"I took the liberty of getting food, since the only objects in your fridge are human body parts," she said flipping a pancake in the pan. "I have eggs, toast, tea, biscuits..and for me..." she held up a bowl of spaghetti.

Sherlock dryly chuckled. "Your eating habits have yet to change."

She smiled sitting beside him. John walked out and grinned at the food.

"This looks absolutely delicious."

Amalthea bowed her head in response and began eating away.

"So what are we going to do about Moriarty?" John asked, grabbing a plate and filling it.

"The cops found two of his locations. He's a sly, buggar. I plan to aid in taking him down," Amalthea said.

"Absolutely not," Sherlock said. "You are not getting involved in this."

Amalthea rolled her eyes in response. "I'm not eight anymore, Sherlock. I can handle myself. Or have you forgotten my IQ is three points over yours?"

Sherlock's jaw tightened and he kept quiet. Sherlock's phone rang and he glanced down before jumping up.

"We have a case!"

Amalthea smiled. "Good, hopefully Moriarty didn't steal my good shoes."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Oi, the freaks back," Sally Donovan said at the yellow tape line. "Who's the girl?"

Amalthea looked at her brother with an upturned eyebrow. "I'm Amalthea. Amalthea Holmes."

Sally groaned. "Oh, her."

Amalthea looked distastefully at this ignorant woman. Her brother had filled her in on Anderson and her.

Amalthea stepped closer to the woman. "Yes, darling. I'm her. In other words I'm the girl you don't want to screw with. Just because Sherlock is on the side of the angels, that doesn't mean I am. And I wouldn't have a second thought about slitting your throat, right here, for everyone to see. For example an office romance would be quite the exploitation, no? Stay out of my way and treat me with respect. Or else."

Sally had gone deathly pale and hurried off. Amalthea smiled in triumph. She turned back to her companions.

"Shall we?"

The body was killed by Moriarty's people. That much was quite obvious.

His name was Gerald Smith.

"Is he-?" Sherlock began.

"Yes," Amalthea said. "Yes, he is."

"Is he who?" John asked.

"When I was younger I had a rather vile bully. My brothers took care of him, much to my disliking. I had it under control. This poor unfortunate soul is him." She slightly kicked him with her foot.

"He gained weight," Mycroft said, coming up behind them. Sherlock glared and looked him up and down, judgmentally.

"You're the one to talk. How's that diet of eating cake going?"

Mycroft puffed up, defensively and Amalthea rolled her eyes. She turned to address John.

"Just try and imagine Sunday dinners." She turned back to her brothers. "Mycroft, what can we help you with?"

He turned his attention to her. "Anthea, I heard about what happened at your apartment. I think you should come stay with me."

Sherlock let out an exasperated sigh. "She's fine where she is, Mycroft!"

Amalthea glanced at her watch and turned to John.

"I'm leaving. They'll bicker for hours. You should probably scram too." He nodded and they walked out.
Amalthea looked down as her phone dinged and clicked her tongue.

The pool. Tonight. Wear something nice.
~JM

"Pfft," Amalthea grunted. "I always wear something nice."