Lets Play A Game - Sherlock Fanfiction [Sequel to IBIY]

Chapter forty - Clever boy.

I sit there, watching Sherlock in amusement as he plucks the strings of his violin. I haven't seen him play it in a while, and I was rather eager to watch him play it again. I rest my head on my hand which was supported by my elbow leaning on the arm of the chair. He stares at the wall, deep in thought.

The night that me, Mary and Mrs Hudson has spent together ended pretty well. We watched about three movies and put two pizzas in the oven. Amelia didn't really bother us, as she rested peacefully for most of the night. In the morning I had to literally force Mary and Mrs Hudson to watch an episode of Doctor Who. They didn't really watch it, they only saw glimpses of the program from when I watched it on TV at home or when I stopped over Mary's. I decided that they should watch the episode with Matt Smith as the doctor, called 'A Christmas Carol' as it was by far one of my favourite episodes. Mrs Hudson cried happy tears at the end of it, and Mary admitted that she liked the episode, so we ended up watching two more episodes that morning until John came back.

Anyway, enough information about our sleepover. I still sat in Johns arm chair, watching Sherlock play with his violin strings annoyingly.

"You should play something." I start, letting the corner of my lips twitch into a small smile.

"He was trying to make us argue-- fall apart."

"What?" I question, shaking my head slightly in confusion.

"Moriarty." He states simply, "All the events he made happen, he was trying to create conflict."

"Stop thinking about him." I exhale, sitting up straighter against the old arm chair, "He wants us to argue, and to worry about his next move. Just chill out for tonight, yeah? We'll figure something out tomorrow."

"I need to speak with him."

"...What?" My eyes widen as I give him my fully attention. Why would he want to talk to him? Does he want to make a deal, or to figure something out? I doubt Moriarty was a man to make deals without a price, and that price wouldn't be anything good. "Are you okay?"

"Of course I'm okay." Sherlock reassures me, as if it was obvious. I give him an impassive look and mentally roll my eyes to the back of my bed.

"You know what I mean."

"If I talk to him then I can ask him to make a deal, and if not, then I can witness how he wants to play the game. Watch his inscrutable face smirk as he finds out that I'll take part. I can do this, Holland, and I can win."

"...Do you know how ridiculous you sound right now?"

Sherlock huffs and stands up, placing his violin on his now, empty chair space and walking towards the kitchen, "I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" I snap, standing up and following after him. He picks up his coat that he left on the dining chair and quickly puts it on, ignoring my question. I sigh again, not saying anything as it fell silent. He could be so...so...ugh.

I'd lose my mind trying to understand his.

Sherlock must have noticed the look of unhinge and distress on my face, as just as he finishes putting on his scarf his face falls slightly.

"Sorry, but you know I have to do this."

"You don't have to speak to him."

"What else do you want me to do? Watch everything fall apart as he tries to ruin my life? Holly- out of everyone I thought you would agree on this."

I try not to smile, and I nearly succeed. I look down to the floor, "Well, now thinking about it..."

"You don't need to worry about me, I'll be fine."

I look up and examine him, my eyes squinting a little, "Who say's I worry about you?"

"You do, I can practically see it on your face." He tells me, quickly walking into the living room and picking up his immaculate phone. I lean against the kitchen wall, folding my arms and watching him. 

"You're a jerk."

"That's not nice to say to someone you worry about." Sherlock finishes typing a text, then chucks his phone into his huge, coat pocket, "I'm not sure when I'll be back, make sure Mrs Hudson doesn't cook me anything." He informs, walking over to me and kissing my forehead. I smile as his soft lips touch my skin, hiding my confusion to why he was acting so sweet. He didn't normally act like this when thinking about Moriarty, or anything that turned his stomach in such ways. Moriarty wanted to ruin him, and Sherlock seemed happy about going to have a chat with him. I didn't really know why, maybe he had a plan? He would normally be out of it, y'know, acting all weird and stuff. However, I wasn't complaining. 

"Be safe, you clever boy." I tap the side of his shoulder jokingly, and he smirks.

"I always am!"

And then he leaves, closing the door behind him.