The Great Game (Sherlock Holmes x OC)

SEVEN- The Realization

Sherlock opened the door that led into an indoor pool. The lights were on but there was nobody visible in the area. He walked slowly towards the shallow end of the pool. He stopped at the edge of the pool and turned, trying to see up into the viewing gallery. He turned towards the pool again, raising one hand, holding up the memory stick. He felt bad for lying to Anita, but he had too.

"Brought you a little getting to know you present. Oh, that's what it's all been for, hasn't it? All your little puzzles; making me dance- all to distract me from this," Sherlock called out loudly as he gestured to the memory stick, then he turned in a slow circle while he waited for a response.

A door opened halfway down the room. He looked over his shoulder as he had his back turned, still holding the stick.

Anita walked through the door and into the pool area, wrapped snugly in a hooded jacket with her hands tucked into the pockets. Sherlock felt the whole world crash around him.

No, no, no, no, no. It's not her. How could it be her? Sherlock's brain wouldn't shut up about how stupid he had been. He had been blinded by her friendship, by her. For years, she was by his side. Always. But she did disappear sometimes. She could have been killing people at that time. The times when she 'went home' or 'visited friends'. Sherlock was confused and hurt. He refused to believe Anita was a killer, but that seemed to be the answer.

"Evening," Anita said, her face was neutral, showing no emotions. Sherlock's hand lowered but he didn't move, still looking over his shoulder at his best friend- No, at the girl he knew he was in love with.

"This is a turn-up, Isn't it, Sherlock?" Anita said, and Sherlock grimaced as she called his name. He used to love it when she said his name.

"Anita. What the hell...?" Sherlock asked, softly. He wanted to hear it from her. She was a horrible liar; they played one game of poker one night and Anita lost nearly 300 pound. Sherlock didn't actually take it, though he did bring it up all the time. He had always thought she was a horrible liar, but now he wasn't so sure.

"Bet you never saw this coming." Sherlock had managed to unstick his feet from the floor and move towards her.

She's a liar. She was faking it. She's a killer. Anita O'Malley is a killer. Sherlock never wanted his brain to shut up so much in his life. But a few movement's from Anita and his brain finally stopped.

With a look of despair that Sherlock hadn't noticed until now, Anita pulled her hands from her pockets and pulled the jacket back, revealing the bombs strapped to her chest. Anita O'Malley wasn't a killer, but she was one wrong word away from being killed.

Somewhere in the upper gallery, a sniper's laser immediately danced around over the bomb. Anita took a deep breath before speaking again.

"What...would you like me...to make her say...next?" Anita repeated, her voice shaking. Sherlock now noticed the earpiece that was in her left ear. He continued to walk toward Anita but now he was looking everywhere but at her, trying to see who else was there.

"Gottle o' geer...gottle o' geer...gottle o' geer...gottle o' geer," Anita repeated, her voice cracking on the last phrase. Sherlock could see the tears pooling in her eyes, but knew she would refuse to cry.

"Stop it," Sherlock demanded.

"Nice touch, this: the pool where little Carl died. I stopped him. I can stop Anita O'Malley too. Stop her heart," Anita read, her breath picking up on the last phrase. She was panicking slightly.

"Who are you?" Sherlock asked, still looking around. If Anita wanted one thing in the whole world, she wanted Sherlock to just look at her. Just once. That was all she needed.