The Other Side - BBC Sherlock Fanfiction

Chapter 31 - Kittens and Killers

Jim
For the next few days, the world seems to stand still. Angel bedridden and our signal common interest conversation is limited to wondering who is going to take up her food. She tends to request John, but I sneak up as often as I can.
Of course, I can hardly blame her because her worry is not misplaced - I do plan to kill her...
"John!" I hear a shout from upstairs. The two other men and I share a look of panic and sprint to Angel.
We find her looking fairly content, causing us to visibly relax. John sighs
"What is it?"
"Can we go to Burger King?" She asks. The mild disbelief she is met with only invokes an eye-roll on her part. "The doctor said that I could start moving about more today." She continues, as if that justified a trip out.
"Well," I begin, "Moving around a bit and a twenty minute walk are slightly different."
"Be quiet Moriarty." Snaps John. He pauses, processing what I have said. "Actually that's a good point."
"I got shot in the shoulder not the leg; I can walk." She says, her self-anointed authority finalising the matter. A look of resignation falls over John's face. As if to prove her point she swings her legs over the side of the bed and steps onto the floor with her bare feet.

Angel
After so long in a bed the cold floor is a refreshing change. I ease my weight onto my weak legs, depite what I said I'm hardly in my best shape. I brace myself and, assuming a blank face, conceal the strain. Walking towards Sherlock's bedroom where I hope to find some fresh clothes, I am offered several arms by means of support. I make the mistake of waving them away with my injured arm. A shooting pain is propelled up my arm.

I grimace, but carry on walking. Only when I reach my destination do I slam the door and let the hot tears fall. I know, though, that if I don't start getting out of the house now, I never will. Jim is hardly going to let me live. Sherlock and John have been postponing their cases but their money won't last long and soon enough they'll have no choice in the matter. Being left alone in a house with Jim for a long period of time would not be a wise idea. 

I get changed, using my banaged side as little as possible; it's a tricky job. Eventually I am clad in a fresh, if oversized, shirt and trousers. I emerge to John and Jim waiting right outside the door while Sherlock appears to have wandered off in a sulk at someone having entered his lair. 

"Right." I address John, ignoring Jim. "Shall we leave?" He clenches his jaw before replying.
"Actually, Jim's going to go with you." Bloody hell, I send John a glare which is answered with a pleading look. I can't bring myself to wonder what he's been threatened with that would allow Jim to accompany me - it must be bad. 

I nod in begrudging acceptance and motion my ex-employer down the stairs with a curt motion of my head. We walk in a steely silence down the street until we reach the heaven that is Burger King. I order my burger, and Jim his large portion of chips and look around for a seat. He watches me as I do.
"I was thinking we could go to the park instead?" He suggests. I'm puzzled at this sudden thoughtfulness but know better than to question it if I want to return alive. I shrug, still not wanting to talk to him. It's odd because all this time I've been the one with upper hand, knowing things he didn't, but now I'm clueless. He's always been unpredictable but this is something else. For all I now he's as harmless as a kitten when it comes to me. I can't take chances though.

He leads the way, me tailing a little way behind. 
"Hurry up." He smiles warmly, maybe he is just a kitten. I smile back, just like the old days and catch up to him. Soon enough we approach the park. It is deserted, a peaceful spot for an afternoon. We find a patch of lush grass, surrounded by trees and shrouded from the public, to settle on. He reveals a picnic rug from a bag I'd barely noticed that he was carrying along with a bottle of champagne and a pair of champagne flutes.
"Wow, you've really outdone yourself." I comment, impressed. He pops out the cork and a wisp of white smoke floats out. He pours us each a glass and hands one to me.
"Cheers."
"Cheers" I sit down on the blissfully soft blanket and close my eyes in satisfaction.

When I open the scene has changed dramatically. Jim stands there, still holding a champagne glass in one hand. What worries me, though, is what lies in the other. A glistening gun points at my forehead. 

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Right ladies and gents, this is the penultimate chapter - just one more and an epilogue! I hope you liked it, please vote and comment.