Sherlock stares at her, cold and calculating. She matches his stare. He stands up and starts walking in a slow circle around her, beginning to deduce.
Foreign, accent points heavily towards Scotland. Long hair carelessly arranged indicates rush or general apathy for her physical appearance, further indicating a "home-body." She....
His rapid rush of deductions trail off as he realises that she is observing him, and locking away everything she finds into her mind. Seconds after he comes to that conclusion, he tries to resume.
Her manner indicates...defiance? Intimidation? Confidence?
He stops again when he realises that he can't deduce her further. Her face is a mask. Her body language is hostile, but her eyes are smiling. Sherlock abandons the attempt and does what normal people do. He starts talking.
"Who are you?" he begins.
She laughs. "Ooh. The great Sherlock Holmes, reduced to asking questions. I suppose I passed the test then." she says.
He rolls his eyes. "Who are you?"
"Don't you want to hear my overview of you, Mr Holmes?"
He takes a deep breath. "No. I do not. I want you to tell me who you are." he says coldly as he takes a few steps toward her.
She pulls a face, but doesn't step back. "Fine. I'm Jenna McKinnion." she relents.
Her face remains impassive as she stares coldly at Sherlock.
He scans her again, trying in vain to find out anything else. He speaks again.
"How do you know Moriarty?" he asks.
"Oh, he really would prefer you call him Jim. You two have a special something." she replies sarcastically.
"Answer the question." Sherlock demands.
She laughs. "Can I sit?" she asks with a smile playing at the corner of her lips.
She doesn't wait for Sherlock's answer; she finds a chair and sits in it.
"Ms McKinnion." Sherlock says.
"Mr Holmes." she replies.
"Answer the question." he says slowly.
"I would think the great Sherlock Holmes should be able to deduce that for himself."
He kneels in front of her and looks into her eyes. She remains icy. He tilts his head to the side and sits back on his heels, still staring at her, but beginning to understand.
She smiles dryly then stands up abruptly looking at her watch and startling Sherlock enough to be granted the satisfaction of seeing him fall backward.
He stands up quickly to recover his dignity. She laughs coldly.
"I really must be going. I've got things to do, places to be, people to threaten. Bye for now." she says, walking to the door and opening it.
Upon her stepping out, she calls one more thing to Sherlock that chills him.
"You'll be hearing from Jim soon enough. He's ready to play."
YOU ARE READING
And Still We Play - A BBC Sherlock FanFiction
FanficMoriarty is back, and stopping him is more difficult than before. Sherlock must choose between saving the ones he loves, or playing the game.
