The Pool

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"Evening." John said simply.

Sherlock and Alex didn't move. Sherlock stole a glance at Alex and knew that she knew nothing about this. John smirked at Sherlock.

"This is a turn-up, isn't it, Sherlock?" John said.

"John..." Sherlock started. "What the hell..."

"Bet you never saw this coming." John said.

Sherlock looked crushed. The only friend he'd ever had besides Alex and Redbeard...and he'd been duped. The great Sherlock Holmes, duped. Sherlock turned to Alex.

"Did you know about this?" He asked harshly.

"No!" Alex said. "I swear it on Redbeard's life!"

"You better not be lying." Sherlock said.

"I'm not!" Alex said. She turned to John. "You better start talking!"

"What would you like me to make him say next?" John asked, pulling open his coat to reveal bombs tied all around him. Alex gasped.

"NO!" She screamed.

"Quiet." Sherlock said.

"Gottle of geer, gottle of geer, gottle of geer." John repeated. "Gottle-"

"Stop it." Sherlock said, talking to the bomber.

"Nice touch this, the pool." John said. "Where little Carl died. I stopped him. I can stop John Watson too. Stop his heart."

"Who are you?" Sherlock asked.

The door at the other end of the pool opened. John, Sherlock, and Alex instantly turned towards it. A man was peeking out from behind it.

"I gave you my number. I thought you might call." He said.

"Hey, I just met you! And this is crazy! But here's my num-" Alex started.

"Just for one second, can you be quiet?" Sherlock whispered.

A man stepped out, dressed in a neat suit. He was walking slowly. He looked familiar. Alex felt a sense of deja vu when she looked at him. She felt as if she had seen him before.

"Is that a British Army Browning L9A1 in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?" The man asked.

"Both." Sherlock smirked, pulling out John's gun.

"Jim Moriarty. Hi!" Moriarty said. "Jim? Jim from the hospital?"

"I knew it! I knew I'd seen you before!" Alex said.

"Smart, that one. And stunningly beautiful too." Moriarity nodded to Alex. "But, back on topic. Did I really make such a fleeting impression? But then I suppose, that was rather the point."

Sherlock noticed a small, bead of red light on John's chest. He glanced at Moriarty and then behind him and Alex.

"Don't be silly, someone else is holding the rifle." Moriarty said. "I don't like getting my hands dirty. I've given you a glimpse, Sherlock, just a teensy glimpse of what I've got going on out there in the big bad world. I'm a specialist, you see. Like you."

"Dear Jim, please will you fix it for me to get rid of my lover's nasty sister? Dear Jim, please will you fix it for me to dissapear to South America?" Sherlock quoted. Moriarty grinned.

"Just so!" He said.

"A consulting criminal." Sherlock breathed. "Brilliant!"

"Isn't it?" Moriarty said. "No one ever gets to me. And no one ever will."

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