Side of the Angels ~ A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction {Book II} *UNDER EDITING*

Chapter 40- Strange Events

"Shall I surprise you, Jim Moriarty? I didn't kill her because it was fun, or because I was bored- I pulled the trigger because I knew you would use her, in this game that you just won't give up. She didn't deserve that. So there you go- it wasn't a cold act, I did it because I loved her. I don't expect you to understand the concept. "

"No," he begins tilting his head to one side as his eyes flit across my face- "I don't. See, you're either lying to me, or you've fooled yourself into believing something that isn't true. No-one kills someone they love for a game, Emily."

"You do."

He laughs again, his eyes deadpan-

"Wrong. I kill ordinary people for games. Because they're boring. They'll all die eventually, and they're certainly not contributing to my own personal interest by living, so I just arrange for someone else to speed up the process."

I suppress a shudder at the cold conviction he delivers this explanation with. 

"What, you don't agree with me?"

I don't answer.

"I think," he says, taking a step closer, "That you pulled the trigger because you didn't like what she was, what she'd become. You wanted her to either be the sister you remembered, or not be there at all. Am I wrong?"

I consider-

"Yes."

"I don't think I am."

I'm silent for a minute.

"Well, if you think you know my reasons, then this conversation is over. I'll be going now."

He turns around quickly,and shouts-

"No."

I jump, in spite of myself, as his voice reverberates off the walls.

"No," he says again, more quietly, "You won't."

My stomach turns to ice-

"Are you going to kill me?"

"Does it look like I'm going to kill you," he says, angry, spreading out his arms, "Does it look like I'm armed? Can you see snipers?"

I don't think I've seen him angry before.

"What did they do to you, in China?" I ask quietly.

"Does it matter?"

"You didn't scream."

"They didn't make me."

I close my eyes, take a shallow breath in, then open them-

"When is this going to stop? The game?"

He watches me, unblinking, then turns his head and looks at the wall-

"When somebody loses."

"When Sherlock loses."

He shrugs.

"Not necessarily. Just he doesn't seem to be doing much to try to win- all he does is counter attack my moves. It's a stale mate, if you will. Neither of us are moving forward. It's not a distraction any more. Sherlock's boring, at the moment. I'm hoping he'll pick up the pace soon."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Then I'll find someone new to play with."

"Fine. Do that. Just don't involve me."

"I think it's a bit late for that now."

He inspects the peeling paint of the window frame, runs a finger down the length, then snaps off the dust-