Vampire on Baker street ( A Sherlock fan-fiction)

Ch.53: Nothing will be the same after this

The older woman then stands and pulls a gun from her purse, aiming it at Mary.

Mary freezes and holds up her hands, taking a slow step back.

"I was never a field agent," The woman smirks,"I always thought I'd be rather good.

Mary scoffs.

"Well, you handled the operation in Tbilisi very well... for a secretary," Sherlock jibes.

She frowns,"What?"

"Can't have been easy all those years, sitting in the back keeping your mouth shut when you knew you were cleverer than most of the people in the room," Sherlock continues.

"I didn't do this out of jealousy!"

"No?" the sociopath questions,"Same old drudge, day in, day out, never getting out there where all the excitement was. Just back to your little flat on Wigmore Street."

The woman stares, jaw slack at him. How could he know so much about her?

"They've taken up the pavement outside the Post Office there. The local clay on your shoes is very distinctive," Sherlock says, glancing at her shoes. "Yes, your little flat."

"How do you know?" She questions.

"Well, on your salary it would have to be modest and you spent all the money on that cottage, didn't you, and what are you, widowed or divorced?" Sherlock starts to fire off deductions. "Wedding ring's at least thirty years old and you've moved it to another finger. That means you're sentimentally attached to it but you're not still married. I favour widowed, given the number of cats you share your life with."

"Sherlock..." Mary says softly, a nervous look on her face. She knows how much Sherlock can get on people's nerves when he does this, and the woman currently has a gun in her hand.

"Two Burmese and a tortoiseshell, judging by the cat hairs on your cardigan," His eyes flit over her body,"A divorcee's more likely to look for a new partner; a widow to fill the void left by her dead husband."

"Sherlock, don't." Mary says for firmly, but he fails to listen.

Sherlock gets louder as he steps closer to the elderly woman. "Pets do that, or so I'm told, and there's clearly no-one new in your life, otherwise you wouldn't be spending your Friday nights in an aquarium. That probably accounts for the drink problem, too: the slight tremor in your hand ... the red wine stain ghosting your top lip. So yes. I say jealousy was your motive after all – to prove how good you are..."

Her gaze turns to look towards the entrance as Mycroft walks in. Greg enters next to him, with three police officers at his side.

" ... To make up for the inadequacies of your little life," Sherlock hisses.

Her eyes flit from Mycroft to the officers, fear and dread filling them. Her arm holding the gun shakes.

"Well, Mrs Norbury," Mycroft says,"I must admit this is unexpected."

"Vivian Norbury, who outsmarted them all," Sherlock voices with much sarcasm. "All except Sherlock Holmes." He takes a step forward, holding out his left hand. "There's no way out," He says softly.

"So it would seem," She smiles a little. "You've seen right through me, Mr Holmes."

"It's what I do."

She tilts her head to one side,"Maybe I can still surprise you." Swiftly she brings up the gun and aims it at Sherlock.

He smirks,"That will only make things worse for yourself."