Darkness Changes... (BBC Sherlock Fanfiction)

Chapter 40- Waste Of A Good Apple, In My Opinion.

A/N- Again, apologies for how long this took to write I just wanted it to be written to the best of my ability and this bit of the episode, I feel, is crucial. Plus I got writer's block a bit... oops. Anyway can't believe we're at Chapter 40 already with so much left to go, enjoy ;)

Not edited yet...

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Darcy's POV

Moriarty smirked down at me while waiting in the doorway as though he were a gentlemen who needed permission to enter. Although I would have compared him more to a vampire. He certainly drained the life out of me when he kidnapped me.

"Most people knock." Sherlock stated and then I saw him shrug slightly out of the corner of my eye. "But then you're not most people, I suppose." He gestured over his shoulder towards the tea tray. "Kettle's just boiled."

As though that were his invitation Moriarty stepped over the threshold of the flat and stopped right in front of me. I lifted my gaze to stare at his smirking face. The sight almost sickened me. Just 'almost' because in a dark place at the back of my mind there was this thought.

Like I was glad he was here.

As soon as I thought that I pushed back in my seat and brought my legs up to my chest as if I was protecting myself. Moriarty then just turned to pick up an apple from the bowl on the coffee table.

"Johann Sebastian would be appalled." Moriarty commented as he tossed the apple in the air and caught it, he was referring no doubt to Sherlock's choice of music. He turned back to me and then just looked around the room, searching for something. "May I?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at me and turned to Moriarty, pointing his bow at John's armchair. "Please."

As Moriarty walked away I lowered my feet to the floor and held back a slight smile as he sat in Sherlock's chair. Sherlock glanced over at me and I dropped my smile once he found there was no tea to pour as I had already done it.

My eyes widened as Moriarty took out a penknife and started to cut into the apple. "You know when he was on his death bed, Bach, he heard his son at the piano playing one of his pieces. The boy stopped before he got to the end..."

I sat forward in my seat and interrupted him, "...and the dying man jumped out of his bed, ran straight to the piano and finished it."

Both Sherlock and Moriarty turned to look at me, the latter tilted his head and smirked. "Couldn't cope with an unfinished melody."

"Neither can you apparently." I retorted and raised an eyebrow at them both.

Sherlock stared blankly at me and added, "That's why you've come." He still hadn't sat down and went to move the objects on the tray about, turning one cup around so the handle was facing Moriarty.

"But be honest: you're both just a tiny bit pleased." Moriarty commented and continued to smirk at me. Just me. Like he was talking to both of us but directing the statement at me.

It was like he knew what I was thinking earlier.

"What, with the verdict?" Sherlock questioned bluntly and offered Moriarty one of the cups of tea.

Moriarty took it and smiled up at him. There was that glint to his eyes again. Mayhem. Beneath his air of calm was chaos. Not that that was surprising. "With me..." Moriarty spoke softly and continued to gaze up at Sherlock, "... back on the streets." His eyes glazed over as he looked over at me and added, "Every fairytale needs a good old-fashioned villain."

A grin spread across his face but it dropped as Sherlock turned to pick up his own cup while Moriarty spun his on the saucer so he could lift it. I reached for my own teacup and picked it up, raising it to my lips to drink.