Burning In Water (A Moriarty Fanfiction)

Chapter One: Old Friends

I take a deep breath in, and reach forward to knock on the door. The cold London air pulls at my coat and shuffles my hair. The door in front of me opens and an old lady breaks into a smile behind it.

"Good afternoon ma'am. I'm here to see-,"

"Darcy isn't it? So nice to see you! Please come right in," she cuts me off, and ushers me inside. Slightly taken aback, I let myself be pushed into the rather small hallway of 221b Baker Street.

"The boys are just upstairs. I hope you aren't too cold. Please, put your coat on the hook. I'll be upstairs soon with tea and biscuits. Sherlock was so looking forward to your arrival!" she breathes out as she nudges me towards the stairs.

My eyebrows crease together. That woman is really something else. My long legs skim over the stairs and I haul up my small black suitcase behind me, until I reach the landing. The door in front of me has been thrown open and I can hear the sound of a violin screeching. It hurts my ears. It always used to.

I step through the door to see my old friend Sherlock sitting on a black armchair. Another man, an army doctor by the looks of it, is sitting across from Sherlock. John. Sherlock told me about him. The horrible screeching stops as Sherlock realises my presence. Abruptly, he stands and places his violin down, before straightening his suit.

"Darcy. I see you got my message," he nods towards the wooden chair across from him.

"How could I resist such a detailed message from such a good old friend?" My voice drips with sarcasm. The message that he sent was very vague.

"This is-"

"John. I know. Pleasure to meet you," I say, reaching a hand out to him. He stands awkwardly to meet my gaze and shakes my hand. I take a seat on their couch as both men sit on their armchairs and Mrs Hudson places a tray filled with tea and biscuits on the messy desk next to me and bustles out.

"So Sherlock, why did you finally decide to contact me? I mean, it's not as if I waited. For years." A humourless laugh escapes me and Sherlock sends me a puzzled glance.

"I called."

"Twice. In fifteen years. Anything could have happened! I at least thought... Anyway, you said you had a case?" I say.

John looks between us looking confused. I can understand his confusion. Unlike Sherlock, I do actually have a thing called empathy.

"Were you two...." John trails off at a loss for words. Internally, I smirk. Like that would ever have happened. I know Sherlock. The man in question sends John a confused look. Dear God, I've only been here for five minutes and already the people in my company are confused.

"I mean were you two... together?" ventures John.

"If you are implying that I had a relationship with this lady I can assure you that our only contact was strictly professional," Sherlock clacks out, like a dusty old typewriter.

"Still using the same old excuses I see, Sherlock." Turning to John, I explain. "Sherlock and I were both called onto the same case in Australia. It was a long and tricky case, even Sherlock had trouble, but we became what I believed was friends. Clearly I was wrong though. But I'm over it," I assure myself.

After Sherlock left, I was alone. I had always had a problem socially, so it was nice to meet someone who I thought I could trust. Who understood me. I found my own way after he left. Made a name for myself in the detective industry.

"Well I called you here for a case, that I thought that I would require your assistance with." Tap, tap, tap on the keys, painstakingly slowly.

"And how could I resist? I got bored in Australia. Needed something new. So here I am!"

John is looking increasingly confused, and his puzzled looks are annoying me.

"Mrs Hudson has agreed to let you stay in the flat above us. You have your own room, kitchen, bathroom and living area," Sherlock says.

"Well, I should get settled in. I guess I'll see you very soon," I smirk, picking up my suitcase and heading upstairs.