the king's crown | j. moriarty (18+)

forty six

ELIZABETH THREW DOWN her coat and spun to Moriarty, a heat turning her cheeks pink.

"I wish I'd shot him myself." She was throwing her arms around as she spoke. She wasn't shouting, she was sort of loudly speaking with such a stern tone to her words.

"Now," she heard James say, a delicious smile in his voice, "careful sweetheart, you're spending too much time with me." It's like she didn't hear it because she was pacing.

"The nerve of it, Jim! I know he doesn't like me but God, Magnussen is such a piece of work and I will be damned if I'm not involved in this case. Lestrade can't just ask I assist and then I get practically cock-blocked from assisting." Jim was grinning again, leaning against the counter with his suit still sat perfectly and suddenly she felt exposed, and blushed. He only grinned wider making her face uncomfortably hot. She remembered their morning and couldn't look him in the eye for a moment, her old self back for the briefest second. She nibbled at her lip, blinking away the distraction because how was it fair Jim could look completely untouched, completely perfect, all the time? She hissed in frustration and Moriarty chuckled. She wondered if he could hear what she was thinking.

"I'm just so...frustrated." When Elizabeth aired her emotions Jim knew they must have been clouding her judgment. She was not one to explicitly discuss the matter, she was considerably cryptic and he liked the challenge but sometimes it was easier when she just told him. "I want to help them. I want to get Magnussen for something. He's so slimy."

At least, this was what Elizabeth was expecting to happen.

"God, sometimes I want to kill him." She arrived to him with a slam of the door, throwing her coat on the back of the chair opposite his desk with a hand raking through his hair. Jim sat with his chin resting one hand and smiled lazily up at her; a forced smile.

"I can if you want, you're the one stopping me." It was Jim, but it sounded off. Killing Sherlock Holmes suddenly sounded half-hearted, and of course this sparked a great concern within her.

"What's the matter?" Jim didn't speak. He rubbed his thumb across his lower lip, scrubbing it, and bared his teeth to his nail. Elizabeth sank to the chair across from him, her knees suddenly wobbling with nerves. Elizabeth was waiting to breathe but couldn't seem to do so when Jim seemed so on edge. At first, Elizabeth thought it was work and it probably partly was. But as the silence continued her mind started reeling. Had she done something? She went through all her movements lately, recounting anything they had argued about. But they rarely argued, and when they did it it was explosive and destructive and definitely memorable.

"Jim?" It was the quietest whisper, let out in a single nervous breath and still he didn't look at her. His finger was still against his lip. He dropped it eventually, his elbow slipping from his knee, and he cocked his head to the side, eyes squinting at something invisible. He seemed to contemplate his answer for an extra second.

"...work." He muttered, leaning back in his chair. This was a lie, a painfully obvious one.

"What's the matter?" He looked at her now, and he appeared hurt. Elizabeth bolted up right, listening intently.

"You've not told me Elizabeth."

"Huh?" What was that supposed to mean?

"You've not told me."

"A-about what?" Elizabeth was blinded by nerves and couldn't come up with an answer, what was he getting at?

"You met Sherlock. And, who else?" It hit her like a ton of bricks, and she slumped at the weight of it. She scrunched her eyes close, tightening her face.

"Magnussen." Jim stood as the name left her mouth, pacing around her.

"You didn't tell me. I find out from one of my men you're sat in that dingy coffee shop having a lunch date with Charles Magnussen? Are you playing with me, Elizabeth!" She cowered, mouth hanging open in confusion because, was this jealousy? Or concern?

"I-i.."

"Charles Augustus Magnussen? The most dangerous bastard to come near you aside from me and you are having coffee with him? Near your house? Have you learnt nothing these past few years!" Elizabeth still couldn't make out her words. Most unlike herself.

"That's not-I didn't-"

"I try and keep you safe, I dedicate to keeping you safe, all the work I've missed just to make sure you're alright and you go and do something like this!" Elizabeth frankly couldn't understand where this had come from, yes he'd been worried but he'd started to coax her to do this. She'd started to think it turned him on, putting her in that situation. Obviously not. Because he was looming over her chair, arms on either rest trapping her beneath him and preventing her escape. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"All the time I've given you-"

"Then stop." She croaked, finding her voice. He turned his head, eyes like slits as he dared her to repeat herself.

"What?"

"Then stop wasting your time on me. Take the jobs, do the work. You work practically twenty four hours, nine days a week anyway, go ahead!" This wasn't where her retaliation had been heading, but she felt the usual warmth of unfocused anger fill her.

"I devote-"

"After year's Jim, I can handle myself." Elizabeth rocked forward, pushing her face closer to his. "I didn't go on a date with Magnussen, if that's what you're getting at." She hissed, "it was barely half an hour." Jim cocked his head back.

"Oh, so you categorise dates by time length do you?" Elizabeth's cheeks were turning pink and she growled at him.

"You know that's not what I was getting at."

"Wasn't it?"

"The hell is wrong with you today?"

"Don't speak to me like that Elizabeth, you're on my last god damn nerve." Elizabeth pushed at his chest, forcing him backwards so she could stand.

"And you on mine." They were inches apart, both fuming with anger but after a few moments her anger began to subside. This was provoked from more than just Elizabeth's visit with Magnussen, she could see it. His eyes were darker than usual. These were the eyes his customers saw, if they ever did, and it made her swallow thickly. She leant back. Suddenly less confident. This wasn't Jim, this was Moriarty. After a moment, Elizabeth blinked through her angry gaze and whispered, "I'm sorry." He didn't respond. He scooped up his coat and threw something at the chair she'd been sitting at. She searched for his face but he didn't look at her. In a menacing and growling tone he hissed.

"Try not to die before I get back, sweetheart. I don't have the time to deal with any of your mess today."