Side of the Angels ~ A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction {Book II} *UNDER EDITING*

Chapter 57- Full Time Criminal

Millie's POV

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"Hang on, so you're telling me that Sherlock's tramp friends have been notifying you that Moran's asking a lot of questions about me?!"

"Yes, that is precisely what I'm telling you."

Emily is silent on the other end of the phone for a minute. Then-

"That bastard-"

"Do you have any ideas as to why he's showing such an interest in your history?" I interrupt, ignoring Sherlock and John's inquisitive looks as they enter the apartment.

Emily chuckles darkly, then says-

"As a matter of fact I do."

There's something in her tone that I can't place. I wait in silence, expecting further explanation. She inhales sharply, then begins:

"Last week he contacted me via video message, firstly to threaten me, then to tell me to back off from his boss. I don't really get it, if I'm honest with you- is it just devotion and dedication? It seemed a bit intense, if you ask me. Verging on creepy, actually. Maybe he's just jealous that I-"

I cut her off hastily, and say-

"You video messaged Moran?"

"Well- no, not exactly- he sent me a request, I accepted it and-"

"Idiot."

"Ouch. Someone's tetchy. Have you and Sherlock had a lovers tiff?"

I frown into the phone. How does she know about our conversation? And then I grasp a very likely concept. I sigh heavily-

"What did John tell you?"

I can hear her grinning.

"Oh, not much. Just that he walked in to find you two staring lustfully into eachother's eyes-"

"Well, he's exaggerating. And no, I haven't engaged in any form of heated conversation recently. Don't change the subject at hand- what happened during your video message with Moran?"

"Hm? Well, first we discussed the weather, then what kind of tea he likes to drink-"

"I'm serious, Emily."

"Fine. He told me to 'back off', and then said if I didn't he'd put a bullet in my head. And then he called me I was a wasted hooker, and I told him he was blatantly stupid, and it ended with Moriarty turning up and shutting the laptop down-"

"Moriarty?!"

Sherlock's head snaps up at his name. John stops stacking the fridge.

"Yes. Well, we didn't speak. He just pointed at the video message and told Moran that they 'needed to talk'. That was all. It was quite funny actually, you should have seen Moran's face- I wouldn't be suprised if they find him dead in his hotel room," she says, laughing in a way that makes me distinctly uncomfortable.

That's the problem with Emily. You don't know what you're going to get; the funny, clever and genuine woman who goes out of her way to teach us combat, or the decidedly deadly criminal who laughs at the prospect of another man dying.

"Maybe he's got a secret thing for Moriarty. It wouldn't surprise me," she says, after my silence, "He seems the type. Anyway, I suppose we can't do anything at the moment. Did Sherlock's tramps tell you what he was asking?"

"He wanted to know about your recent criminal activity, the extent of your network, your family history-"

"Hold up- my family history? Like what?"

I gesture to Sherlock to hand me his phone. He obliges, somewhat reluctantly, and I open up the database containing information on the specific questions-

"Date of birth, home town, mother and father's names-"

I stop as I look at the name on the screen.

"And? What is it? Millie, tell me."

I pause, uncertain. Then-

"There's quite a lot on your sister. Especially concentrated around the cause... the cause of her death."

She says nothing. Sherlock raises an eyebrow, sitting down opposite me, while John takes the seat by my side.

"Emily?"

"Mm?"

"Are you alright?"

"What? Yes, of course I am. Anyway, I won't keep you. Bye" she says, injecting her voice with forced optimism.

She hangs up before I can say goodbye.

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Emily's POV

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I let the phone drop from my hand, onto the bed. 

I can't lose control. Not now. 

I bet he's doing this.

Using Moran to get to me. Manipulating us both. In his game of corruption. Toying with emotions.

I'm surprised Moriarty hasn't brought up the topic of my sister more often, actually. It's the perfect weapon, even I can see that. It's the button labelled detonate. But, other than asking why I did it, he hasn't said any more concerning the matter. Maybe he's just biding his time.

I feel sick. And angry. And, I hate to admit it, scared. My family history? That's not fun for anyone. I've worked very hard to detach myself from every scrap of my past, and I will not let this man, or anyone else, dig it up again. Even if it means I have to kill Moran myself, and face Moriarty and the consequences. 

I dig my fingers into the mattress, and take a deep breath.

I look down at my laptop.

And I open it up again, and scroll through my inbox, looking for a specific request.

I stop when I reach it.

It's a message from a very well-known criminal operant under the name of Gytrash. Everyone who works in my field of expertise knows his name.True, his reputation is not even close to the scale of Moriarty's, but Gytrash is both feared and sought-after none the less.

And he wants me to hack the Ministry of Defence's personal database.

Mycroft's department.

Very risky. Exceedingly dangerous. Definitely a challenge.

But a much-needed distraction.

And I need a distraction. To keep me stable.

I look at the price tag that comes with the request- if I do this, and am successful, I'll be rich.

Mycroft saved us all. 

But all I have to do is think of Millie's voice saying the words 'cause of death', and of Moriarty's ermine smile, and  of the sprawling madness clawing at my stability-

And I decide to go full-on criminal.

I flex my fingers, start up the software, and drown out my conscience.

And then I rapidly type out a reply to Gytrash, concerning his request.

I tell him I'll do it for free.

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