A/N- I'm so proud of the title, haha. Longer chapter, think quite a few of the chapters in this book are going to be longer... Not edited, any questions feel free to ask or correct any mistakes...
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Darcy's POV
If I were to say I ran up the stairs to the flat so I could at least tell John that I'd realised my mistake and rushed home, I would be lying. Because, I realised that I was already late and what point was there in exerting myself for no reason?
So, I took a steady walk up the creaky stairs instead. Upon reaching the door I heard two things.
One- John Pacing.
Two- The Tapping Of Fingers On Phone Keyboard.
Sensing John's obvious worry, even from outside the flat, I thought it best to not stroll in casually and anger him further.
Tentatively I opened the door to the flat and poked my head inside. John was, as I had deduced, was pacing back and forth across the living room. "Where the hell have you been?!" He exclaimed as his gaze met mine.
I raised my hands in surrender and stepped fully into the flat. "I wandered further than I had anticipated and lost track of time. I'm sorry, Dr Watson."
"John!" He corrected me loudly. "My name is John! You always call me John! Or Blondie, if you want to be annoying!"
His expression was one of confusion and anger. "I'm sorry..." I paused mid-speech. "...John." His face softened and he ran a hand through his hair.
"What happened to you?" John sighed as if he knew I weren't going to answer and put his hands on his hips. "I changed the sheets on my bed, you can sleep up there tonight." He added immediately after and waved a hand in the direction of the stairs.
I shook my head and turned to the sofa. "I wouldn't want to intrude. I'll take the sofa." I sat down and ran my hands across my dress. Being back in the flat again made me feel enclosed and I just wished Sherlock would wake up so I could talk to him. Find out what he thought about the whole situation.
"Doctor's orders. Take my room, get a good nights sleep." John said firmly and left the living room as an end of the discussion.
Little did John know I'd been sleeping really well the past couple of days, given the circumstances of the torture that messed with my head. But I wouldn't argue with John further and take his room.
I'd reclaim the sofa tomorrow night.
While John wandered to check on Sherlock I slipped my jacket and shoes off. I took my phone from my jacket and put it on the hanger and my shoes by the door before heading to the stairs after picking up my bag.
John had his head poking though Sherlock's bedroom door and I sighed, hoping Sherlock was okay, then walked slowly towards John's bedroom.
I slipped inside the room and found it to be an ordered, simple bedroom. Typical of John Watson. I closed the door behind me and put my bag over on the bed, sitting down next to it. I dropped my phone gently on John's bedside table and brushed a strand of my hair behind my ear.
After I changed into my pyjamas I laid on top of the covers of the bed and stared up at the ceiling. How strange it was to be in John Watson's room. The colour scheme did little for me, it was magnolia and nothing special.
My room at Irene's had been white but at least the patterns caught your eye. The pyjamas I'd brought with me were my favourite ones I'd gotten from her. Silk, blue, long sleeves and bottoms. Comfortable.
I must have laid there for an hour maybe two, give or take a few minutes. Thinking about lots of different things. Scott, mainly. But also Irene. And Moriarty. What if they came to find me?
The room lit up as a trill sounded throughout. I looked to my right to see my phone's screen lit up brightly, I squinted at the intensity and reached out for it.
Scott- Goodnight, genius.
Was all it said. Two simple words and a smile spread across my face.
Me- Goodnight, Scott.
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"Darcy..." A voice called out to me in the darkness of sleep.
I stared into the infinite darkness to see a light and a figure making their way towards me. "Darcy." The voice said again and I knew it must have been coming from that person.
"Hello?" I asked them and took a step forwards.
"Darcy, I-" They stopped themselves and suddenly got closer to me so I could see their face.
"Scott?" I gasped and took another step towards him. He looked as white as a ghost. "What's wrong?"
Scott's eyes widened and he turned away. I reached out a hand to his shoulder but a maniacal laugh filled the otherwise silent vacuum. "Scott?" My voice wavered as I spoke.
"Scott?" A high pitched voice mimicked mine. I looked around for the culprit and the laugh started again. Scott turned back around but it wasn't Scott. "Do you love me, Scott?" That voice mimicked again and it came from the man now stood in front of me.
Jim Moriarty.
He fixed his tie and flattened Scott's suit he was still wearing. "He certainly needs to get a sense of style, your man Scott."
"He isn't my man, at all." I argued shakily, stepping back to get away from Moriarty.
"I warned you to keep away from him, didn't I?" Moriarty threatened me and glared menacingly. "Just because you aren't under my control any longer, does not mean you disobey me." His voice raised as he got angrier. "Understood?!"
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When I roused myself from sleep I found that I had somehow gotten under the covers of the bed. My forehead had a slight covering of sweat on it and I grimaced. I got up from the bed and picked up my phone, then made my way downstairs.
I heard voices from the living room but paid no attention to Sherlock and John and went straight for the bathroom. Closing the door behind me I turned the sink tap on and filled the basin with cold water. I put my phone one the back of the sink and leant against it, took a deep breath before splashing the cool water on my warm face.
That dream was very... peculiar to say the least. Filled with a lot of meanings, no doubt, my subconscious was clearly telling me to follow Moriarty's orders and stay away from Scott. But by following that order, I'd then have to follow some others and I'd rather not.
I shook my hands out and reached for the towel on the rail. I dabbed my hands and face dry, then dropped the towel on the edge of the bath. I grabbed my phone and left the bathroom.
In the living room, Sherlock was sat on the right side of the table and John had his back to me. As I got closer I noticed John was on his phone but Sherlock was reading the newspaper. The kitchen smelt delightful, freshly cooked bacon and eggs.
"Good morning dear, sleep well?" Mrs Hudson asked from behind me and walked past with a plate in hand, full of breakfast foods. I nodded and leant against the doorway between the kitchen and living room. "Good, good. Breakfast?" Mrs Hudson added as she put the plate down in front of John.
I smiled politely, "Yes please, Mrs Hudson."
"Sit down then, dear." She patted me on the shoulder and went back into the kitchen.
Slowly, I wandered over to the available seat on the left of the table and fiddled with the sleeve of my pyjamas and the phone in my hand. "Oh, morning." John greeted and looked up from his food.
"Morning." I said quietly and just stood by the chair instead of sitting.
Sherlock glanced over the top of his newspaper and narrowed his eyes before flicking the paper back up. "Sit down, then." Mrs Hudson told me and put a small bowl of butter on the table. She moved around and put a plate in my place.
I sat down, putting my phone beside me, and picked up my cutlery quietly. Bacon, sausage, beans, fried egg and some toast. Mrs Hudson had remembered my favourite breakfast, at least when I actually ate it. "Thank you, Mrs Hudson." I said.
She swatted playfully at my head with her hand. "It's no bother at all, just good to see you back in this flat, now eat your breakfast." Mrs Hudson chuckled. "It is good to see her, isn't it boys?"
"Yeah, very good to, um, have her back...yep." John agreed, taking a mouthful of his food.
Sherlock merely mumbled from behind his newspaper. I sighed and started to eat, knowing I wasn't going to get a word out of him about any of it. I was a fool to think otherwise.
Mrs Hudson tottered off back into the kitchen with a huff. "So how did you sleep?" Sherlock asked me, finally speaking.
I cleared my throat quietly and wiped my mouth with a piece of kitchen roll after resting my cutlery against the plate. "I slept very well, thank you. Thank you, John for letting me use your bed. Although, I doubt I'll need to do so again."
"Why?" Sherlock asked in a rushed tone and dropped a corner of his paper.
I shrugged a little and answered, "I am perfectly happy on the sofa, that's all."
"You're staying then?" John inquired.
"For the time being." I replied honestly and picked up my cutlery again to eat.
Nobody spoke after that, just ate or read silently , and the sound of Mrs Hudson working away in the kitchen filled the awkward silence. My phone screen trilled and lit up again, I sighed and peered over at the message.
Scott- Good morning, genius. Any plans for today?
I ignored it for now and just carried on eating. I was mostly finished before Sherlock picked his newspaper back up and I heard the front door open. My eyes darted in the direction of the door to the flat and I gripped my knife tighter in my hand.
"Who was that?" John asked and I frowned at him, so he gestured to my phone.
I shook my head and looked back at the door. "Nobody."
"Is it the same person as yesterday?" John pestered. I nodded just to get him to stop talking and focused on the door.
I pushed away from the table as the door opened and let go of my fork, taking a firmer grip on the knife. But my suspicion and tension fell completely when I saw that it was Mycroft in the doorway with his usual umbrella in hand and perfect suit.
"Ah, Miss Byrne... what a surprise." Mycroft said in his monotone voice and strolled casually into the flat.
I sat back in my seat properly and went back to eating. "Mr Holmes, how nice to see you again." I said politely in reply.
Mycroft must have been stunned at my behaviour as he stopped walking and said nothing. I glanced up to see him looking down at me with his mouth slightly parted open. "Yes, well... welcome back." He finally spoke.
"What do you want Mycroft?" Sherlock huffed and flicked his newspaper.
I smirked and put my cutlery together on my plate, wiping my mouth once more. Mycroft sighed and tapped his umbrella on the floor. "You know perfectly well what I want, Sherlock."
Sherlock remained silent and John just carried on eating. I picked up my phone and unlocked it, opening up my messages with Scott and reread that last one.
Scott- Good morning, genius. Any plans for today?
Me- Morning. Not as of yet, no. Do you?
I sent my reply and put my phone back down on the table, there was still an awkward silence. Mycroft waiting for a response from Sherlock no doubt.
"Miss Byrne..." Mycroft turned his attention to me now. "...We'd heard you had taken off with Jim Moriarty."
I sighed, "Well, Moriarty actually took off with me and placed me in the care of-"
"Irene Adler, yes, I've seen the photographic evidence." He interrupted me.
"What-? Oh." I breathed. "I knew it! I knew there was someone there..." I trailed off and rested my elbows on the table.
The silence arrived once again and Mycroft cleared his throat. "Sherlock... the photographs."
"The photographs are perfectly safe." Sherlock answered pointedly.
I frowned and immediately knew they were talking about the photographs Sherlock went to Irene to obtain. So, as it was none of my business, I picked up the cup of tea in front of me and took a sip.
"In the hands of a fugitive sex worker." Mycroft argued.
The abruptness of the statement caused me to choke on my tea and cough. I dabbed at my mouth with the kitchen roll again and glanced around to see everyone's eyes fixed firmly on me.
"She doesn't know, Mycroft." Sherlock told his Brother as Mycroft gave him a questioningly glance. "Well done, Brother mine for shattering her fragile mind."
I glared at Sherlock, even if his face was blocked with the newspaper, and he must have sensed me because he lowered the paper slightly. He almost looked scared. "I don't have a fragile mind." I said quietly.
"You were held captive by a manipulative sex worker, tortured and conditioned to behave in a certain way." Sherlock rambled. "Of course you have a fragile mind, even if you haven't realised it yourself yet. But, I think you have."
I went to argue but found that I couldn't. He was right. "Sex worker." I said to myself. Of course. She'd just been teaching me the basics, how to protect myself and behave properly. Irene was preparing me to do what she does, in the long run.
"One who acquires explicit photographs and uses them for blackmail." Mycroft spoke sternly.
Sherlock sighed, "She's not interested in blackmail. She wants... protection for some reason. I take it you've stood down the police investigation into the shooting at her house?"
My eyes widened a little as I stared over at Sherlock. I'd shot a man, almost killed him. I could be arrested.
"How can we do anything while she has the photographs? Our hands are tied." Mycroft answered.
I relaxed a little upon hearing that, perhaps I wouldn't be arrested today. It was then that I remembered what Irene had asked me to do and so I picked up my phone innocently.
"She'd applaud your choice of words." Sherlock commented as I started to type out my message.
Sherlock's fully recovered. Back to his usual self.
-DB
I sent the message and smiled as John did, then put my phone back down. "You see how this works." Sherlock continued. "That camera phone is her Get-out-of-jail-free card. You have to leave her alone. Treat her like royalty, Mycroft."
"Though not the way she treats royalty." John commented.
Then, two completely different sounds filled the room, the first was the familiar trilling of my phone. The second was an orgasmic female sigh.
I swiftly picked up my phone as everyone looked at me but I furiously shook my head. "It wasn't me." I stated and unlocked the phone.
"What was that then?" John asked.
"Text." Sherlock answered nonchalantly.
I rolled my eyes and read the message, but it wasn't from Irene.
Scott- Surprisingly, no. No plans. Nothing I couldn't heartlessly abandon. Why? Do you fancy seeing me again?
"But what was the noise?" John asked again and then turned to me. "And who keeps texting you?"
I didn't render him a response and just typed on my phone instead.
Me- In your dreams.
Upon looking back up Sherlock wasn't in his seat and John was staring at me with an obvious fury at how I'd just ignored him.
"Did you know there were other people after her too, Mycroft, before you sent John and I in there? CIA-trained killers, at an excellent guess." Sherlock said from where he was stood not too far away and looking at his phone. "You knew Darcy was in there so, I'm also guessing that you did."
"Yeah, thanks for that Mycroft." John said sarcastically but kept his angry gaze on me.
Mrs Hudson started to take the plates from the table. "It's a disgrace, not getting Darcy out of there sooner and sending your little brother into danger like that." She said sternly. "Family is all we have in the end, Mycroft Holmes."
Mycroft pulled a disgusted look. "Oh, shut up, Mrs Hudson."
"MYCROFT!" Sherlock shouted as John shouted, "OI!" at the same time.
I, on the other hand, stood from my seat sharply and clenched my fists. Mycroft was much taller than me, especially without my heels, but my sudden alertness and threatening body language left him feeling uneasy, I could tell.
Mycroft cringed and glanced at Mrs Hudson, face full of remorse. "Apologies."
"Thank you." Mrs Hudson nodded.
I took this as my time to go and get changed, feeling a bit vulnerable in my pyjamas. I grabbed my phone and headed to the kitchen area.
"Though do in fact, shut up." I heard Sherlock say and I smirked slightly. "Where are you going?" He then asked, sounding desperate.
"Get changed." I answered simply and trotted up the stairs. My phone went off in my hand and I glanced down at it.
Scott- Exactly, I do. See me today? I'm bored. Father wants to take me out to meet clients.
I ignored him for now and got changed. Putting on some blue linen trousers, a neutral bird pattered blouse and slipped on a pair of cream heels I brought along with me. I made John's bed and myself look presentable before heading back downstairs.
Me- Can't. Busy.
Was the reply I sent once I reached the bottom of the stairs. Mycroft was just leaving the room, on the phone. "You look nice. Very colourful." Mrs Hudson commented and I smiled before making my way to the living room.
Scott- Doing what?
He texted back almost immediately and I rolled my eyes.
"That noise- the one it just made." John said to Sherlock, no doubt trying to get to the bottom of the text alert mystery.
I huffed, "It's a text alert John. It means Sherlock got a text." I answered for Sherlock. Both of their heads whipped around to look at me. Sherlock frowned at my appearance whereas John smiled slightly.
"His texts done usually make that noise." John stated.
"Well, somebody got hold of the phone and apparently, as a joke, personalised their text alert noise." Sherlock explained and held the newspaper up a bit more.
I put my hands in my pockets and stood in the middle of the room. "Hmm. So every time they text you..." John mused aloud.
As if on cue, Sherlock's phone sounded again and the same female sigh echoed throughout the room. Shortly after, mine went off again.
Good work. If you weren't aware it's me texting Sherlock. I'll let you know of your next task soon.
-IA
I nodded and smirked.
I may have had some inkling, Miss Adler. I'll be waiting.
-DB
"Could you turn that down a bit? At my time of life, it's..." Mrs Hudson trailed off as she realised Sherlock wasn't listening.
As Sherlock and John started discussing how someone got hold of Sherlock's phone I decided to come up with some kind of lie to tell Scott. It's not that I didn't want to see him, I did. But after going off gallivanting yesterday I doubted John would trust me to do so today.
The last thing I needed was John getting suspicious.
Me- Spending time with some old friends.
"Bond air is go, that's decided." I caught Mycroft saying into his phone as he entered the room again. "Check with the Coventry lot. Talk later." Then hung up.
"What else does she have?" Sherlock asked him and I raised my eyebrows at Mycroft, questioningly. "Irene Adler. The Americans wouldn't be interested in her for a couple of compromising photographs. There's more." He added and stood up to face Mycroft. "Much more."
Mycroft remained silent and I watched on as Sherlock took a step towards him. "Something big's coming, isn't it?"
"Irene Adler is no longer any concern of yours." Mycroft ordered.
I crossed my arms. "I'd say that she was quite a large concern of mine, Mr Holmes."
"From now on you will stay out of this." Mycroft overlooked my comment and spoke to Sherlock.
"Oh, will I?" Sherlock countered.
Mycroft stared down at him. "Yes, Sherlock, you will." He then turned to me. "As for you Miss Byrne, we managed to persuade Scotland Yard to drop the charges on you for attempted murder."
"Self defence." I argued and stepped toward him.
"Scotland Yard and the government have dropped the charges on you in return for your compliance." He reiterated and I quirked an eyebrow.
John stood from his chair. "Compliance with what?"
Mycroft clenched his jaw slightly and simply said, "Come with me Miss Byrne, we have some routine tests we'd like to run."
"On me?" I sneered and glared threateningly at him.
"We just want to know how a seventeen year old girl managed to take down a trained killer." Mycroft tried to persuade me.
But I was having none of it. I would not be tested on, they might as well have said torture.
"Knew it." Sherlock muttered under his breath and I knew he was talking about the killers.
I huffed, "I was trained by the best apparently. Which means that I could probably break you right here, right now. Would that show you all you need to know?"
"If you don't come with me now, Miss Byrne, Scotland Yard will arrive within the hour to drag you off to the station and then prison. Is that what you want? After your affiliation with Jim Moriarty I doubt you'll last the night before being picked off." Mycroft threatened me.
If I was arrested Moriarty would more than likely send someone to kill me, just in case I told the police everything I knew. Which wasn't much but it was probably enough.
My phone trilled to break the tension and I took it out of my pocket.
Scott- So you do have friends. Criminal or not?
I half-smiled and sighed as I typed.
Me- Actually, the complete opposite of criminal. Don't text me again today. Please.
I held the phone out to Mycroft. "No doubt you're going to want to examine that. How long will I be staying at government labs incorporated? Will I need a bag?"
Mycroft scowled and took the phone. "We'll provide attire for you, should you need to stay more then one night."
"Mycroft, you can't just run tests on her after an experience like this." John said firmly, Dr John taking over. "It could cause psychological damage."
I sighed and made my way to the coat stand, rolling my eyes. "Oh please, Dr Watson. I've suffered through much worse than whatever the government can throw at me." I grabbed Scott's jacket and shrugged it on.
"She isn't a danger to anyone, Mycroft." Sherlock chipped in and I raised my eyebrows, surprised he'd stepped up to defend me.
"How do we know?" Mycroft argued.
I flicked my collar down and tugged my jacket straight. Sherlock sighed and countered, "Because she could have killed that man. She had an easy chance to kill him but she didn't."
Mycroft looked round at me and I shrugged with a slight smile on my face. "Are we going then? Or not?" I asked, gesturing to the door.
Instead of ordering me to follow him, Mycroft just turned on his heel and said, "I have a long and arduous apology to make to a very old friend, Sherlock." Photographs. We were back to that now.
Sherlock picked up his violin and nodded at me, I quirked a slight smile and nodded in return reassuringly. "Do give her my love." He called after Mycroft. I held back my smile as I left the flat and he started to play the National Anthem.
Mycroft was holding the front door open for me when I got downstairs. "First off. No, I don't know where Miss Adler is. Second, I don't know a thing about any photographs or camera phone. So, no I can't help you retrieve them." I said plainly and crossed my arms.
"This is about you now, Miss Byrne. Not the photographs or camera phone. Clear?" He responded and pointed out the door with his umbrella.
I smirked and strutted past him, "Crystal, Mr Holmes."
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Thoughts? The text conversations are in different styles so you can clearly differentiate the two people :)
Please vote and comment, thank you guys ;)
-HBH xxxx
Disclaimer- I don't own any of the characters, except Darcy and Scott, or any lines from the show. Those rights belong to the BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.