Natalie

Bitter Sweet

I strode confidently down the sidewalk, John and Sherlock flanking me. Ding! I grinned as Mark's name flashed on my screen.

All ready babe. Can't wait to see you! :)

-MM

Fabulous! I can't wait to see you either! :) Jim still doesn't know?

-NH

Not a clue. Molly coming?

-MM

Just Sherlock and John.

-NH

Great. :)

-MM

I looked up and nodded to Sherlock, hailing a cab. I hopped in with both feet, feeling pretty great. John scooted in beside me as Dad sat in and closed the door.

In the cab. Ten minutes. :D

-NH

Awesome. I'm awaiting. :D

-MM

John began giggling beside me. I looked up to him, the blush creeping onto my cheeks. He continued chuckling until I rolled my eyes and turned them back to the buzzing phone in my hand. I slid the lock and put it to my ear.

"Hello Sweetie." I beamed up at John defiantly.

"Well hello there, Darling." Said the scruffily voice on the other end. A voice belonging to a boy name Mark. My heart fluttered at the sound of it. A heart belonging to the very same Mark.

"We're nearly to the meeting point." I told him as John and Sherlock stifled laughs.

"Wonderous. I figured talking on the phone would be less conspicuous. Well, that and your voice is beautiful." Gaaaahhhhhh. His voice just makes me melt, FYI.

"Daawwww. Quit being so cheesy, ya dork." I giggled and nudged John as the cab came to a halt. For three minutes we ventured down the sidewalk as I talked idly with Mark. Exchanging information about how we'd both been doing, being cute, giving sassy remarks.

"But Moriarty is going to have cameras, Nat." John told me uncertainly. I love him to death, but he can be so dull sometimes.

"We have Mark on the inside, John. He's already got them running a loop."

I smirked, the confidence radiating off of me. "We've got preparations in place." And as we reached the building I strode right through the alley along the right side of the building. I said goodbye and hung up the phone. I turned the corner and gazed up at the brick building. Three floors, looked like an ordinary house. But the glass was bulletproof, the walls were soundproof, and the rooms were full of tragedy and lost sanity. I marched myself up the two concrete stairs to face the dark green door. On the door were a golden knocker and matching door nob. I looked over my shoulder to John and Sherlock and smiled, then I returned my gaze forward. I kicked in the door. "We're here!" I bellowed the empty front sitting room.

That's not quite right. I surveyed the roof for a moment. Mark must have cleared the guards out of the way. How boring. I had studied the house blueprints carefully, and up the hallway I went, John right on my heels and Sherlock on his. I kicked in that door as well, hearing the click of John's pistol behind my ear. "Nice to see you again, Jim." I told the top of his head, his dark hair peeking out from the top of his red, velvety sitting chair. He chuckled without opening his mouth and I uncrossed my arms in the surprise. No. I paused at the voice, it-it couldn't have been. You are Wrong, Natalie Holmes. Wrong.

"Surprised, little Natalie?" Jim asked, confirming the fear that had creeped into my head. "Your dear old Dad is right, Sentiment is not found on the winning side." He said in his usual taunting and calm voice, but from behind Sherlock, who was still standing in the doorway. I bit my lip and blink my eyes twice, destroying the tears of my betrayal, just as John swiveled to point the barrel of his gun behind me, no doubt directly at Jim's heart.

"Too much of a coward to look me in the eye?" I said defiantly to the back of Mark's chair. He rose swiftly and gracefully. It took every bit of restraint not to hit the crimson smile right off his gorgeous face.

"What? No hug, Darling?" He asked, holding his arms out at his side. He put them down after studying the look of rage on my face. I pushed everything out of my head but my anger and logic. I calculated the best places to hit him to take home down, and the most efficient ways to do so.

Patience. Wait for the right moment. John's voice told me, but not aloud, instead echoing inside my own skull.

Make it count. Make him pay. Molly instructed, the hostility clear with every word.

Don't get caught up in your anger. Let it drive you, but not control you. Mary said calm and clear.

Focus on taking down his defenses. He's stronger, but you're quicker. If you make one wrong move, he's got you. Sherlock stated.

I listen carefully to what each one has to say, preparing myself. John was on high alert,it wouldn't take much at all to trigger his finger; Which would in turn, would trigger the gun. I crossed my arms again and took a deep breath through my nose. With my left hand resting in the crook of my right elbow, I flicked John in the rib cage. His reflexes took over and he fired. Sherlock kicked something, well, probably someone, most likely Jim. And the instant my finger touched with John's side, I pounced. I jabbed a knee right into Mark's diaphragm, my hands on his shoulders, forcing his body onto my bent knee. Once contact was made, I jumped backwards, out of his grasp. He collapsed onto the floor, trying to catch his breath and wiggling his hands out in front of him in a desperate attempt to get me, resembling a blind man stumbling along. I brought my right foot swiftly to his jaw, sending him into a gasping pile on his side. One hand clutching his throat, the other placed around his middle, his lungs obviously in pain. I jammed my foot on top of his neck, prepared to shove all my weight into it, severing his spinal cord, if he so much as twitched. I didn't dare try and turn my attention away from Mark to see Jim's state.

"Lestrade is on his way." Sherlock announced as Mark continued to make an effort to suck in Oxygen while I put pressure on the hand still over his throat.

"This feels a little too easy, Sherlock." John said aloud what I had just been thinking.

Mark squirmed and Jim remained silent. Either the bullet hit it's intended target, or he was knocked out. Finally the police arrived and The Moriarty duo was escorted away, a very large bruise on Mark's neck that went along his jawline up to his ear. I exited with Dad and John, feeling satisfied and uncertain.