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

Chapter 64- Self-Control and Mockery

Emily's POV

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I can't do this.

I'm not an actor at the best of times, and it's going to take more conviction than I am able to portray to pull this off. And I don't want to cause more harm than good, despite my questionable reputation- well, at least not where Millie's concerned. I know she's intelligent; scarily so, and she's exceptionally strong-willed with a steely determination, but I don't know how she'd cope with it, if it goes ahead as planned. I don't know how I'd cope with it. Besides, I honestly don't believe that Moriarty will fall for it. He's going to see right through the visage, and therefore all it will do is generate a great deal of hurt and speculation.

I need to tell Sherlock that I'm not going to do this anymore. I pull out my phone, and note with irritation the lack of a stable connection. I have a suspicion that Mycroft has somehow and deliberately tampered with the communication points in this area, to prevent a recurrence of events. Sighing, I grab my jacket from the door, and leave my apartment, holding my phone out in front of me and checking constantly for connection. I'm halfway into the park that surrounds the complex when the screen finally lights up, by a fence lining the steep drop to a river. I curse Mycroft for making my life so unnecessarily difficult, and then dial Sherlock's number, listening impatiently to the ringing tone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Sherlock, it's Emily- listen, I need to-"

"Boo."

I let out a startled noise of exclamation, and very nearly drop my phone over the fence. 

I turn around slowly, keeping it pressed to my ear, and take in the newly dangerous predicament.

Moran and Moriarty are standing in the half shade of the sun, slightly apart from eachother, suggesting that whatever they'd been arguing about hasn't been completely resolved. You'd think seeing an Irish criminal in a £750 suit and a six-foot sniper clad in black in the middle of a park forest would seem somewhat out of place, but it really doesn't; on the contrary, they look like ordinary passers-by taking a short cut through the park.

"Emily?" says Sherlock voice in my ear.

I'm not alarmed by the gun in Moran's hand, although I probably should be. However, I'm very uncomfortable with what Moriarty is spinning round with nimble fingers; my motherboard chip.

This can't be good.

"Go on. We can wait. It would be rude to keep Sherlock waiting," says Moriarty, his voice laughing, but face completely straight.

I glance at the chip, then at Moran, who just grins savagely in my direction, before gesturing to his ear with the gun, indicating that I should continue.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing, nothing- I...er...I just need to-"

"Emily, what is it?"

"Sherlock, this really isn't a good time, can I call you back?"

"No. Tell me what's going on."

I take a deep breath, and turn away from the very obnoxious distractions in front of me, and try to continue the call without giving away everything-

"I can't do it."

"What? Why not?"

"It's not going to-"

I'm cut off by the sound of soft laughter very close behind me. I look over my shoulder, and see Moran in the same position, still pointing the gun casually at my head. I can't see Moriarty. I tighten the grip on my phone.