Manipulated by a Consulting Criminal (Jim Moriarty x OC)

Chapter 8

(A/N- Sorry for not updating this week! I had a cold and a fever which broke yesterday. Anyway, This is going to be an extra long chapter to make up. Sorry! Enjoy! Live long and prosper.)

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Jim broke from the hug, handing Jane a phone. Jane took the phone in her hand and curiously twirled it in her fingers. "Your new phone," said Jim, who was sending a text to someone. He pressed the send button and a moment later, Jane's phone dinged as she received the message. On the screen was a number and an address."Sherlock?" she asked. "No, John's," replied Jim. "Oh," said Jane. 

"I'll be leaving darling. Your bags will be taken to Baker Street," said Jim as he pecked her cheek. "And how am I supposed to get out of this?" asked Jane, gesturing towards her bed. Jim chuckled and replied,"Like this," as he pressed a handkerchief against her face. Jane did not squirm or resist, and let the smell of chloroform make her drift into sleep. Jim gathered her in his arms as he called for a nurse. He asked for her to change Jane's hospital robes into the casual ones he had brought. Jim left the room, being the gentleman he was. 

The nurse came out in a few minutes, ushering Jim into the room. Jane was still unconscious, but now in a pair of black jeans, a t-shirt of her favourite band, and a pair of red Converse. Jim carries her bridal style out of the hospital, shooting a glare at the receptionist before she could ask him any questions.

A black car stopped outside the hospital as soon as he descended the stairs. Jim got into the back seat, careful not to hit Jane's head against the roof of the car. He told the driver the address, laying Jane across the seat with her head in Jim's lap. Jim was stroking her hair, lost deep in his own thoughts. The car jerked to a stop in sometime, snapping Jim out of his thoughts.

He fixed his hair so that it was ruffled and removed his jacket, all without disturbing Jane, who was still knocked out cold. He climbed out through the door on his side and went across to get Jane. Jim carefully lifted Jane and carried her until the door of 221B. He pressed the doorbell, waiting for someone to open the door. He hoped it would be John, but then he wished it was Sherlock. He was so changeable. 

The door opened and at the other side, a short and stocky man stood, looking at Jim and then at Jane, who was in his arms. John's eyes widened as he realised she was Sherlock's 'friend'. Jim started speaking in a slightly panicked and worried voice. "She was knocked out cold at the corner of the street by a man. I got her to the closest house I could see. Please help her," he said, looking about frantically, acting flawlessly. John quickly opened the door wide, helping Jim get her inside. John shut the door behind him, keeping the cold air outside. 

The flat was empty, apart from a skull which was sitting at the mantelpiece. Sherlock had left for Belarus for a case the previous night. He will be back any time, John thought. John quickly checked her pulse, and relaxed when it was slightly slow, but regular. "Thanks for bringing her here," John said, looking at Jim. "Not a problem. I should be going now. Is it fine if she stays here for the night?" Jim asked nervously. "Sure. I'm a doctor. I'll see to it," John replied, taking pride of the fact that he was a doctor. 

Jim nodded sharply as he turned around and walked out of the room. John heard the door close and he turned his gaze to the girl sleeping there on the sofa. She had dark brown hair and a slightly tanned skin. She seemed to be as tall as him, and was lean. John decided to give her some rest and began retreating to his room. Bu just as he took a step, a loud bang resounded throughout the flat, making John jump in surprise. The sound of someone running up the stairs was heard and Sherlock stormed into the room. He was going to jump onto the couch, but then he saw the girl who was sleeping there. 

Sherlock's eyes went wide as he rushed to her side, taking her pulse frantically. John spoke up, trying to reassure his friend," She's alright. She was knocked out by a bloke and someone got her here. She'll be up in a few minutes, Sherlock. Calm down." Sherlock quickly turned around, facing John. "Who got her here? What did they look like?" Sherlock asked frantically. John took in a deep breath, ready to explain. "A bloke came here, carrying her, saying he found her knocked out by a man around the corner. He looked like a nice boy, was slightly nervous and frantic. Anything else?" he asked. 

"No," Sherlock replied, before carrying her in his arms, making his way to his room. John just stared at his friend, observing how much his friend cared for the girl. He chuckled to himself, before going back to his room. Sherlock had shut the door behind him, and carefully placed Jane on his bed. Sherlock stared at her curiously, at the way her dark brown hair perfectly framed her well shaped face. 

Jane was murmuring something in her sleep, which Sherlock bent into listen to. He was so close to her, that his face was just inches away from hers. He strained his ears, and when he heard her say 'Sherlock' over and over again, he felt confused, but happy at the same time. Why was she saying his name in her sleep? he asked himself. Tired of his own thoughts, he moved over to the other end of the bed, laying down. He made sure that Jane was asleep before drifting off, staring at Jane, waiting for her to wake up.

Jane woke up the next morning, in a bed which was not hers, and neither was she in the hospital. Then she remembered how Jim gave her John's number, and then drugged her. She shrugged the thought out of her mind and turned around,shocked to see who was laying next her. Sherlock was still sleeping, his face inches away from Jane's, one arm around her waist. 

Sherlock fluttered his eyes, groggily groaning before smiling and seeing Jane lie there next to her. Her eyes were wide, and curiously drifted down to Sherlock's arm, which was still wrapped around her. Sherlock quickly took his hand back, looking down, too embarrassed to speak. He did not remember that happening. Before Jane could ask any questions, he quickly hugged her before scampering out of the room. 

Jane just sighed and pulled herself out of bed, hoping there would be someone else in the flat she could talk to. Just as she entered the living room, John came down from his room. He looked at her and smiled, yawning a good morning and asking her how she felt. "I'm better now, thank you," said Jane."Is there anything in here to eat?" she asked. 

"Um...what about toast?" asked John uncertainly. "My favourite," answered Jane, as kindly as she could. Secretly, she wasn't a big fan of toast. She preferred bread, or raw toast as she liked to call it. Just then, Sherlock came in from a hallway, staring at Jane. Jane never averted her gaze from him as the two of them stared at ea\ch other. John coughed awkwardly, as he announced that he going to make some breakfast. Sherlock and Jane returned to stare at each other, silently making out with their eyes. Then Jane ran to Sherlock, getting him in an embrace, which he openly welcomed, carrying Jane to his room, shutting the door behind him.