Believe in Me || Sherlock

Believe in Me- Chapter 33: Tea with a Criminal

Sherlock brought a tray into the living room. It carried two cups, saucers, milk, a teapot, a sugar bowl and two teaspoons. He set it down on the table by the fireplace, removing to newspaper that Flora was reading earlier. He had taken of his blue dressing gown and now wore his blazer instead. Sherlock walked over to his violin and picked it up along with the bow and started playing Bach's Sontana No. 1 in G minor. There was loud creak from outside and Sherlock stopped playing, but then heard nothing, so he resumed his playing. Sherlock had his back to the living room door which opened moment later where the shadowy figure of Jim Moriarty stood. He finished his song, but didn't dare to turn around quite yet.
"Most people knock," Sherlock shrugged. "But then again, you're not most people, I suppose." He gestured to the coffee table where the tray was with his bow. "Kettle's just boiled.
Moriarty slipped further into the room and picked up an apple from a bowl on the table. "Johan Sebastian would be appalled," Moriarty said softly, tossing the apple into the air and catching it again. "May I?" He gestured to take a seat.
Sherlock turned and faced him. "Please." He pointed the end of his violin bow towards John's chair. Jim immediately walked over to Sherlock's chair and sat there instead. Sherlock looked slightly unnerved. Jim took out a small penknife and started to cut into the apple while Sherlock put down the violin and began to pour the water into the tea cups.
"You know when he was on his death bed, Bach, he heard his son at the piano playing one of his pieces," Jim began. "The boy stopped before he got to the end-"
"-and the dying man jumped out of his bed, ran straight to the piano and finished it," Sherlock said.
"Couldn't cope with an unfinished melody."
"Neither can you. That's why you've come."
"But to be honest, you're just a tiny but pleased."
"What? With the verdict?" Sherlock asked picking up one of the cups,madding milk and offering it to Jim, who sits up straight and takes it.
"With me," he replied softly. "Back on the streets." Jim gazed up at Sherlock and smiled, his brown eyes looking like an endless, dark pit. "Every fairytale needs a good old-fashioned villain."
Sherlock turned away and added milk to his own cup of tea.
"You need me or you're nothing," Jim said. "Because we are just alike, you and I. Except you're boring." He shook his head in disappointment. "You're on the side of the angels." Jim then took a sip of tea and places the mug back on the saucer.
"Got to the jury, of course," Sherlock pointed out.
"I got into the Tower of London, you think I can't worm my way into twelve hotel rooms?" Jim asked. Then Sherlock heard a noise from upstairs. Flora had obviously heard Jim's arrival and was probably listening to their conversation.
"Cable network," Sherlock replied.
"Every hotel bedroom has a personalised TV screen and every person has their pressure point; someone that they want to protect from harm," Jim said, still using his soft tone, but had a sadistic smile on his face. Jim lifted the cup to his mouth, but didn't drink until he said: "easy peasy."
Sherlock, still stood up, unbuttoned his jacket and sat down in John's chair. He lifted his own to his mouth, looking like he was mimicking the criminal.
"So how're you going to do it?" Sherlock blew gently on his tea. "Burn me?"
"Oh, that's the problem," Jim stated softly. "The final problem. Have you worked out what it is yet?"
Sherlock didn't answer, but took a sip of tea instead.
"What's the final problem?" Jim smiled. "I did tell you, but did you listen?" He asked in a sing-song fashion. Jim took a final sip of tea, put the cup in the saucer and placed it on the table. He then shifted his hand on his knee an pad began tapping I tidily with his fingers. "How hard do you find it, having to say I don't know?"
"I dunno," Sherlock said nonchalantly, placing his cup on the tray.
"Oh, that's clever; that's awfully clever," Jim smiled sarcastically while Sherlock chuckled humorously.
"Speaking of clever, have you told your little friends yet? Asked Jim.
"Told them what?"
"Why I broke into all this places and never took anything," Jim replied.
"No."
"But you understand."
"Obviously."
"Off you go, then," Jim gestured for Sherlock to explain. He carved out a piece of the apple and put it in his mouth.
"You want me to tell you what you already know?" Sherlock asked with a hint of confusion.
"No," Jim responded. "I want you to prove that you know."
"You didn't take anything because you don't need to."
"Good," he said faintly.
"You'll never need to take anything ever again."
"Very good, because?"
"Because nothing ... nothing in the Bank of England, the Tower of London or Pentonville Prison could possibly match the value of the key that could get you into all three," Sherlock replied.
"I can open any door anywhere with a few tiny lines of computer code. No such thing as a private bank account now, they're all mine. No such thing as secrecy, I own secrecy. Nuclear codes- I could blow up NATO in alphabetical order. In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king; and honey, you should see me in a crown," Jim smiled with pride and delight.
"You were advertising all the way through the trial," Sherlock started. "You were showing the world what you can do."
"And you were helping," Moiarty stated. He then changed the subject.
"How's our dearest darling Flora?"
Sherlock knew she was upstairs listening, so he decided to try and not say anything hurtful.
"Marvellous," he said.
"Not when she has a hole in her," Jim said smugly.
"I'm guessing you organised the shooting?"
"I had no interaction with such thing," he replied. "I was busy with other things."
"Don't lie," Sherlock said through gritted teeth. "It's plain as day. Of course you were involved."
"Maybe I was," Jim shrugged. "I wasn't the one who pulled the trigger. I hate getting my hands dirty. But you're not going to stop me from hurting her, or anybody else for that matter."
"I think I can," Sherlock retorted. "Why are you doing all this?"
"It's going to be so funny," he replied, half ignoring the question.
"You don't want money or power, not really."
Jim dug the penknife into the apple.
"What is this all for?"
Jim sat forward and a spoke softly. "I want you to solve the problem. Our problem. The final problem." He lowered his head. "It's gonna start very soon, Sherlock: the fall. But don't be scared. Falling's just like flying, except there's a more permanent destination." Jim raised his head and glowered across at Sherlock, who bared his teeth slightly and then stood and buttoned up his jacket.
"Never like riddles," Sherlock said.
Jim stood up too and straightened his jacket, locking gaze with Sherlock. "Learn to. Because I owe you a fall, Sherlock. I... Owe...you." Jim continued to gaze at Sherlock and then slowly walked out of the room and left the flat as quietly as he came.
Sherlock walked over to his chair, where Jim left his penknife and the apple. He picked it up and twisted around to reveal the letters 'I O U' carved deep into the scarlet red apple...

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I think this chapter is quite long, sorry 😅
But Reichenbach chapters are gonna be long, but I'm going to skip the next chapter to a bit further on, so the story doesn't drag.
Thanks for 5K!