It Started With Stealing | Sherlock Holmes

28 - F*** You, Jim

A/N: Sowwy about the title of the chapter, I don't condone swearing and I use it as sparingly as possible but I thought it was a suitable name for the chapter 😅

I also just wanted to say that I am BLOWN AWAY by the support for this book! Thank you so so SO much for over 3K reads and thank you all for the comments - they really bring a smile to my face when I read them!

I'm so glad you are all enjoying the story 😄❤

Warning: Again one bit of swearing (2 if you count the title).

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Elizabeth had been struggling to sleep since Irene had left her in the painfully early hours of the morning.

When Irene did leave, the thief just sat on the sofa for a bit, mulling over her life choices and wondering about the future that awaited her. Would Jim greet her with death standing expectantly by his side? Or would she be lucky? Would Irene be right about Jim being that attached to her that he wouldn't cut her thread of life short?

Once the anxieties had fully saturated her mind, leaving no room for anymore, she left for the bathroom, to retrieve the laptop that had betrayed her. Elizabeth still couldn't believe her stupidity. Having been one of the only items to not have been harmed in the trashing of her flat, she should have immediately noticed that something was wrong.

Why didn't she?

As the hours passed, she had thoroughly scanned the laptop, searching for anything odd on the outside. When that was done, she went to the kitchen to find the kit of mini screwdrivers. Then she took apart her own laptop. Only then did she find the small listening device that had been planted on her computer. Elizabeth placed it to one side as she put back together the laptop.

And again, she sat for a bit. She stared at the small listening device, stared at it as though she would make it burst into flames. It didn't.

Dawn rolled around. Golden rays cut through the gap in the curtain, allowing a rich amber atmosphere to take up residence in the flat.

Why hadn't she slept? What was she waiting for? Why hadn't she disposed of the listening device? What could she say before she got rid of it? Should she wait for Sherlock and John before she did anything?

Questions and more questions raced through her head.

Picking up the small device, she brought it close to her face, eyes analysing it intently. It was an intricate little piece of equipment. She wasn't surprised Jim had it. Jim had money and enough contacts to get anything his miniscule, black heart desired.

Tired, beaten by thoughts, distraught and demotivated, Elizabeth breathed a defeated, "Fuck you, Jim," into the device.

She dropped it on the floor, grabbed a hard-back book and then dropped it on the tiny device. She stomped on it for good measure, not really caring if anyone heard. Elizabeth picked up the pieces and dropped it back onto the coffee table, beside her laptop.

Then, the thief just curled up on the sofa, back facing the rest of the room, still awake.

*  *  *  *  *  *

"Fuck you, Jim." Came the breathy, hoarse whisper from Elizabeth.

Seb almost smiled. There were a lot of people who probably thought that but didn't have the guts to actually say it. There was Elizabeth though. How long had this little chase been going on? Could they even call it a chase if they knew where she was?