The Pilfered Vixen

In This Moment...

Over the course of the night, I became less uptight and actually managed to enjoy myself, well, when I didn’t have to listen to Moriarty idly chatting about murdering the Prime Minister.

What I found most interesting though, was that no one was mentioning the cane or the bruise. Most people would give it a curious look but they wouldn’t bring it up. I was slightly disappointed.

It seemed to me that Moriarty enjoyed mingling like this. He would definitely make a better house wife than I ever could. I grinned, picturing him fawning over flower arrangements and serviettes and finally let out a small giggle. 

“What are you smiling at?” he mumbled into my ear. 

“I was just wondering what it would be like if you hosted a garden party.” 

Moriarty stared at me for a second before allowing himself to smile as well. 

“Well, I’m sure it wouldn’t be too much of a problem, what with you helping me.” 

I scoffed, “Are you joking? I’m getting out of here as soon as the opportunity arises.” 

Again, he laughed, obviously not taking what I said seriously. For some reason this frustrated me. Sebastian showed up a while later, holding two glasses of champagne. He held one out to me but before I could take it, Moriarty snatched it and drank it all in one swallow. Sebastian and I stared at him, horrified and he looked back at us confused. 

“What?” he asked, honestly innocent. Sebastian glared at him and grabbed the glass back from him, passing me the other one. 

“I’ll be right back.” he told me. “Watch him.” 

“Aye, aye, Colonel.” I grinned, and he managed a smile before being swallowed back up by the crowds of people. 

I was about to take a sip of the champagne when Moriarty snatched it from me again, downing it in one go. 

“Bit of a lush, are you?” I asked playfully and he fixed me with an annoyed glance. 

“It’s the only way I’ll survive the rest of the night at this point.” he replied, a small smile playing on his lips. 

We saw Sebastian returning, no champagne in his hands this time. He noticed my glass in Moriarty’s hand and empty and fixed me with the same annoyed expression. 

“What?” I exclaimed, “He overpowered me.” 

As Sebastian groaned and Moriarty giggled, I found a growing burden rising in my chest. What had I become to be here right now, joking with murders and psychopaths just like it was completely normal. And it had been less than a week in that house! 

I should have run screaming the moment I had stepped out of that car, but here I was in the thick of it. My smile faded and I looked down at the floor in shame. Moriarty must have sensed something because not a moment later, I felt cool finger tips under my chin, lifting my head slowly. Another second and I was staring into a set of concerned brown eyes. 

“What is it?” Moriarty asked his voice stern but laced with worry. 

I looked at him and marveled at the true concern in his voice, like he actually cared. Thank God I wasn’t stupid enough to believe it for a second. So, with a well practiced smile, I told him that I was, in fact fine. 

“Splendid,” he grinned and I felt his fingers intertwine with mine, “because there’s someone I want you to meet.” 

 I sighed as he dragged me back through the crowd with Sebastian trailing behind us. In the sea of people, I managed to catch snippets of conversations, many of which involved acts of terrorism and other such unseemly performances. I grimaced and wondered how much of a reward I would get if I were to give this information to the police.