Amalthea scanned the crowd of the club, her eyes taking in every facial feature.
Then she spotted him. The man she was looking for.
She adjusted her short leather black dress that hugged her curves and walked towards him.
One of the men stopped her and the man looked at her before waving off the dog.
She winked and went to sit on the mans lap.
"Mr. Harrison, I presume," she smiled.
He smiled back. "What's a pretty thang, like you doin' over here?" he whispered.
"I was looking for a little fun. I heard you're the person to go to." She grinned.
He chuckled. "What kind of fun did you have in mind?"
She placed her palm on his chest and leaned forward.
He got the hint and stood up.
"Shall we go somewhere more private?"
She nodded and he pulled her off to his hotel room, where he locked the door and began pulling off his tie.
She fell onto the bed and stretched out.
"So tell me," he said. "What's your weapon of choice?"
"Handcuffs," she said with a sly grin.
He grabbed them and went to cuff her.
"Not on me," she said. He paused for a long moment before giving them to her and lying on the bed. She cuffed his wrists to the bed frame and stood, reaching for her purse.
She pulled out a syringe and then stabbed it into his neck.
She injected the liquid and he immediately became paralyzed.
She got to work. She pulled out his computer and inserted her hard drive, hacking his system.
She turned to the man. He stared at her blankly.
"Wonderful drug, isn't it?" She smiled. "Immobilizes the body. You can't scream or move. But you can feel everything."
She sat beside him and leaned on his chest.
"Tell me, darling. Look right for yes, left for no. Do you know how to take down Jim Moriarty?"
Left.
"But you are his highest paying customer. You paid him to take out your wife, your brother, your wife's sister....if you tell me how to take him out, I'll let you live."
He looked left, as if to say I don't know.
She laughed. "I know you don't know, I just like to see the hope then disappointment in your eyes. Moriarty doesn't trust anyone. Let alone you."
She pulled out a knife and stabbed it into his chest. She pulled it out and drove it in again. And again. And again. And again.
Finally she dropped the knife, breathing heavily from adrenaline and weakness.
She stood and fixed her hair before grabbing her drive and her stuff then walking out of the room.
She had to pass through the club to get out and she noticed a certain man in Westwood. He caught her gaze and stared curiously.
She grinned and held up the drive, overjoyed by his look of surprise before being lost in the crowd.
Her phone dinged and she glanced down.
Sherlock's awake...he wishes to speak with you.
~MH
YOU ARE READING
I Need a Gangsta//Jim Moriarty
Fanfiction"The brain is a very peculiar reprieve, for myself. You, of all people should understand, Mr. Moriarty. Sherlock and Mycroft do. You, however, don't like to play by the rules....Luckily, neither do I. So what do you say? Game on." Amalthea Quirra Ho...
