Beauty and the High-Functioning Sociopath {#PFCC2k16}

Richard Brook

Sherlock, Alex, and John went to Kitty Riley's flat. Alex grabbed a cup of water and drained it in one swallow. The three of them just sat down on the couch and turned off the lights again. They were in pitch blackness. Alex decided to scare John. She blew on his neck and John jumped.

"What was that?" He asked. Alex fought to keep her giggles down. She then brushed her fingers on John's neck. "SOMETHING IS TOUCHING ME, I THINK IT'S A SPIDER!"

"Don't be silly, John, it's probably - IT TOUCHED ME TOO, IT TOUCHED ME TOO!" Sherlock screamed. Alex had done the same thing to him. "I HATE SPIDERS! GET IT OFF, GET IT OFF, GET IT OOOOOFFFFF!"

"Guys, that was me!" Alex laughed. "Calm down."

"I hate you sometimes." John said.

"Make that two of us." Sherlock said. "Try and get some sleep, Alex. We could be here for a while." 

Alex rested her head on Sherlock's shoulder and fell asleep for a few hours. Kitty had been working late at he press. As Sherlock heard steps outside the flat, he woke Alex up. They sat casually as Kitty turned on the light.

"Too late to go on the record?" Sherlock asked. 

Kitty sighed. She fetched them a hairpin so they could pick the lock of their handcuffs. Sherlock picked Alex's first since he knew it was far too tight. Alex rubbed her wrist, which had a mark on it, as Sherlock unlocked his and John's handcuffs.

"Congradulations, 'The Truth About Sherlock Holmes.' The scoop that everybody wanted, and you got it." Sherlock said. "Bravo."

"I gave you the opportunity." Kitty said. "I wanted to be on your side, remember? You turned me down."

"And then someone turns up and spills the beans. How utterly convienent. Who is Brook?" Sherlock asked. Kitty didn't say anything. "Oh, come on, Kitty, no one trusts the voice at the end of the telephone. There are all those furtive meetings in cafes, those sessions in a hotel room where you gabble into your dictaphone. How do you know that you can trust him? Man turns up with the holy grail in his pocket. What were his credentials?"

Kitty looked like she was about to answer as the door opened. Alex turned to see who it was and she felt absolutely sick. It was Jim Moriarty. 

"Darling, they didn't have any ground coffee, so I just got the whole bean." He said. Sherlock's eyes widened and so did John's. Moriarty looked petrefied. "You said they wouldn't find me here! You said that I'd be safe here!"

"You are safe, Richard, I'm a witness." Kitty said. "They wouldn't harm you in front of a witness."

"So that's your source?" John said. "Moriarty is Richard Brook?"

"Of course he's Richard Brook." Kitty said. "There is no Moriarty. There never has been."

"What are you talking about?" Alex asked.

"Look him up." Kitty said. "Rich Brook, an actor Sherlock Holmes hired to be Moriarty."

"Alright then, so who am I? Ashlynn Hintler, an actress Sherlock Holmes hired to be Alexandra Watson? And who's he?" Alex asked, pointing to John. "Martin Freeman, another actor Sherlock hired to be John Watson?"

"Dr. Watson and Miss Watson, I know you're good people. Don't...don't...don't hurt me!" Moriarty said.

"NO, YOU ARE MORIARTY! HE'S MORIARTY, WE'VE MET!" Alex screamed. "REMEMBER, YOU WERE GONNA BLOW MY BROTHER UP!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Moriarty said. He gestured to Sherlock. "He paid me, I needed the work. I'm an actor! I was out of work!"

"Sherlock, are you gonna explain?" John asked. He was shaking with fury. "Because I am not getting this."