How They Met Alice (BBC Sherlock Fanfiction)

Chapter 5

Okay so sorry if the beginning is a bit tedious and detail-oriented but here ya go :)

(Alice’s POV: )

                We made it to a hotel that was relatively unknown without any more attackers. They only had one room that was big enough for three adults and it only had one queen-size bed. Sherlock paid for one night and we walked to our room. The bed was in the center against the wall. There was a couch and two chairs with a table and lamp. A T.V was on the dresser with the remote and menus. John threw his duffel bag on one of the chairs and sat down on the bed. I put my pack on a hook by the door and my rifle by the T.V. Sherlock sat in the chair without a word and closed his eyes. His lack of communication between us was beginning to bother me. I sighed and threw myself on the bed behind John face-first, spreading my arms out completely horizontally. The case had been put in the corner under my backpack. I quietly got up and went to the toilet. Once the door was closed I took out Sherlocks mobile that I had taken off of him in the hotel where we were taking cover. I smiled to myself and checked the emails. I read the one he had sent to his phone on the plane. My smile faded as I read. He had information on me. A lot. He didn’t have all of it, but he had enough to know more about me than most of my accomplices. I scowled when I saw that Mycroft had provided him with the information. I quickly erased any trace of it and came out. I made sure that it was blatant to Sherlock that I was angry. I glared at him and threw his mobile in his lap. He smirked and tossed me mine. I scowled and sat on the bed, leaning against the dashboard.

“What’s the matter now?” John moaned, looking at my scowl and Sherlock’s annoying smirk.

“She’s upset because I asked Mycroft to get me some information on our her.” Sherlock said smugly. I glared at him.

“You’re bothered about that? He does that to everybody!” John told me, facing me. I looked at him dryly. Sherlock didn’t need to know anything about me; I was helping them and then forgetting. I had no intentions to stay in contact with the two. John rolled his eyes. “You are fighting like siblings! Do I really have to be the parent?” He asked, rather annoyed. I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. Sherlock’s smirk somehow managed to get smugger.  “Okay, that’s it. If you two are going to act like children, I’m going to treat you like them.” John said, standing up. “Sherlock, go sit in the corner. Alice, you go sit next to him. Don’t talk. You’ll stay there until you’re told.” Sherlock’s smirk turned into a frown.

“I am not a child.” He said.

“Did you not hear everything I just said?!” John asked, raising his voice.

“John, we need to get started.” I told him. I had moved from the bed onto the floor in front of the case, and had opened it as he stood in front of Sherlock. He stared at me, bewildered. I saw Sherlock smile at me and he walked past John towards me. I lifted the lid and handed Sherlock all the paper. I gave him John’s lighter. Without a word he went into the bathroom and began burning the paper in the tub. I took the disks and gave them to John, pointing at Sherlock. He joined his friend and produced another lighter and began melting the disks. I picked up the USB drives and filled the sink with water. I was about to drop them all in, but one on top caught my eye. I picked it up. It was labelled,

“Holmes,” I put it in my pocket and dumped the drives in, making sure each one had been submersed. John was steadily melting the disks, and Sherlock was enjoying burning a large stack of paper. I smiled at them and went back out, grabbing the tapes and starting to rip out the ribbons in them. After that was done I got the pile of them and dropped them in the tub for Sherlock. I went out and crushed the plastic bits just for fun. I went and got the USB’s and crushed them, too. I heard the water run and assumed it was Sherlock rinsing the ashes down the drain. I threw the remaining plastic pieces in the case and went back into the toilet. The tub was emptied of any paper and all that was left of the disks were black gooey-looking pieces of plastic. John looked at me, smiling. I would have liked to do the disk job, but I knew John would like it. He picked them up and threw them in the case after cutting them up into slivers with me. He closed the suitcase and we sat around it on our knees.