Manipulated by a Consulting Criminal (Jim Moriarty x OC)

Chapter 27

(A/N- Heya beauties! I'm back! So I'll be going to my grandparents' house on Saturday, so I wanted to update this before it. Also because I feel like writing today. Anyways, it's 10 pm here. Again. I like writing late in the night. It feels good. So anyways! The chapter! This one is dedicated to @Shadow1441 for commenting on the previous chapter. Love you! Also, shoutout to @WallyBrad for commenting and making my day. Love y'all! Live Long And Prosper.)

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"Sherlock, run!" shouted John as he held Jane in a tight-lock. She chuckled a bit and exclaimed, "Good! Very good!" Sherlock didn't move, but he waited anxiously for her or her sniper's next move. "If your sniper pulls that trigger, Ms.Marcus, then we both go up," snarled John savagely.

Jane did not respond to him, but instead turned to Sherlock and smiled. "Isn't he sweet?" she asked jokingly. "I can see why you like having him around. But then people do get so sentimental about their pets. " John pulled her closer to himself, so that the bomb was now sandwiched between their bodies. Jane scowled and turned to John.

"They're so touchingly loyal," she commented. "But, oops! You've rather shown your hand there, Doctor Watson," she said as she faced Sherlock. She chuckled as a laser point appeared on Sherlock's forehead, threatening to blow his brains out if he tried anything. John stared at the transfixed point on Sherlock's forehead in horror as Jane turned around to see his expression. Sherlock understood that there was a laser point on his forehead and slowly shook his head to John.

"Gotcha!" said Jane in a sing-song voice. She chuckled as John released her from his grip and stepped back before holding his hands up to signal to the sniper that he would not attempt anymore stunts. Jane glanced at John and turned to Sherlock while brushing her shirt down. She gestured to it and said indignantly, "Westwood."

Jane lowered her hands and stared at Sherlock, who was still pointing his gun at her, his hand trembling slightly. "D'you know what happens if you don't leave me alone, Sherlock, to you?" she asked. "Oh, let me guess," said Sherlock quite bored. "I get killed." "Kill you?" questioned Jane as she grimaced. "No, no, don't be obvious," she said as her eyes shifted to the sides to see if anyone else was there, watching the great and unique Sherlock Holmes be obvious. "I mean, I'm gonna kill you anyway some day," she continued. "I don't want to rush it though. I'm saving it up for something special. No-no-no-no-no, if you don't stop prying, I'll burn you." Her eyes traveled up and down Sherlock's body before landing on his eyes again.

"I'll burn the heart out of you," she hissed. "I've been reliably informed that I don't have one," he whispered. "But we both know that's not quite true," commented Jane knowingly. Sherlock blinked a few times as Jane looked down, smiled and shrugged. "Well, I'd better be off," she announced. She looked around casually, finding her way back before turning back to Sherlock.

"So nice to have a proper chat," she said almost sweetly. Sherlock raised his pistol higher and aimed it straight at her forehead. "What if I were to shoot you, right now?" asked Sherlock. "Then you could cherish the look of surprise on my face," said Jane as she made a face with her eyes wide open and her jaw hanging on the floor, and grinned at Sherlock. "'Cause I'd be surprised, Sherlock; I really would. And just a teensy bit disappointed," she said scrunching up her nose a bit. "And ofcourse, you wouldn't be able to cherish it for very long," she said as she turned around to leave.

"Ciao, Sherlock Holmes," she called over her shoulder. She nonchalantly walked to the door from which John entered the room, while Sherlock moved a few steps towards her to keep her in his sight. "Catch...you...later..." he said to himself. Somehow, Jane heard it and sang back, "No you won't!" The door closed behind her and Sherlock stood there for a few seconds, holding his breath and staring intently at the door through which she left.