Present Day: 2 years after Darcy's death
Moriarty sits back onto the leather couch. Their guests, a couple in their mid-fifties, sat across from them, and had certainly been on quite a rollercoaster of emotions throughout their story. First confusion, then a confused happiness, then increasing uneasiness. At the moment, they were both frantically searching for an exit from the club's meeting room whilst feigning ease.
"I think that about sums it up, doesn't it Darcy?" Moriarty questions, turning to her.
"I rather think it does, dear. Brings us right up to the present." As she finishes, the couple get up to run. Darcy reaches under the ornate carved arm of the couch and pushes a button, and the only door is covered by a steel screen.
"Tut tut. Now why would our valued guests be running from us?" Moriarty lilts, taking his time getting up and approaching them.
"I have no idea. Unless..." Darcy trails off, playing into Moriarty's sense of drama.
He fakes a gasp of shock. "You mean to tell me that dear Mrs and Mr de Vaughn, orchestrated Geneva's assassination attempt, as an attempt to distract my attention and take over my very, very carefully constructed crime network?"
"Well, not that carefully constructed, dear," Darcy smirks "I did manage to take it down. I think their motive was more along the dreadful sin of greed. What did you imagine doing with Moriarty's money. Cars? Lovers? A house in the hills, all debts paid off?"
The couple have their backs pressed against the steel, as Darcy and Moriarty stand just in front of the couch.
"No worries. Consider your debts to me," Moriarty emphasises, "wiped clean." He grins hungrily.
The couple look confused, rightly, until their phones ping. Once, twice, then a constant stream.
Mr de Vaughn pulls his phone out, a look of despair on his face as he looks back at his two assailants.
"What have you DONE?"
"Oh, just released all your data to the public. Deals with Moriarty, extortion of popular political figures, funnelling money from your various charities into less than tasteful activities. Turns out, there was one family I hadn't had any dealings with during my time as the virus in Moriarty's system. I'd missed. Just. One." Darcy points a finger at the two of them, who seem to not know how to react. "But my darling wanted to give me a special present for our two-year anniversary." She smiles triumphantly as Jim pulls her in close for a passionate kiss. He always gets a thrill off of the boost of situations like these.
"Happy anniversary," he whispers, as he wraps an arm around her waist and they waltz out. Some of the occupant of the 22nd Street Gentleman's Club glance curiously at the room they just left from, as a wailing starts up from the couple, but most mind their own business. Jim and Darcy sweep into the hallway. He pushes her up against four to the coat room, lips on her neck, teeth scraping. She laughs, his high rubbing off on her.
Soon, their expensive clothes are strewn across the floor of the coat room, and the two step out onto the busy street with hoods pulled high and dark glasses hiding their features. They reach the end of the stairs down from the door, and look at each other one last time, at least for the moment.
"I love you," Darcy says.
"I know," Jim smiles, before turning around and disappearing into the crowd.
Darcy knows she'll see him again in 39 hours, once they've pulled off their elaborate escape from central London (being that many security cameras and witness just saw two people who were supposedly dead walking in plain sight) in their small cottage far enough away from any prying eyes to be safe. He'll arrive first. He'll put the kettle on and pull the plastic off the furniture and make their bed, and then she'll knock at the door and she'll be home.
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Pyro (Sequel to 'Burning in Water')
FanfictionThe sequel to 'Burning in Water'. Darcy is in hiding after having brought down Moriarty's crime web. But that's all about to change after a strange letter signed by J.M.
