Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Not today, boys.” he said locking the door. The older boys groaned, a mixture of muttered curses and hisses.  “This is crazy, Nikolay,” the tallest grunted, in his thick Serbian accent; the accent still sounding near foreign to his ears, but his boss had relayed the language to him, so many times that he was sure he’d be speaking in Serbian in his sleep.

If he made it that long. His bosses, boss was not known for sympathy, nor mercy.

“He knows nothing. We kill him now.” The tallest continued, he used more words, and Nick had been fairly sure that he caught a swear word or two, but the general message was there.

“Leave him be. Baron, will be here to interrogate.” he grunted out. The boys gave him filthy looks. He had a feeling he’d be needing more coffee, by the looks of it, they may decide to shiv him in his sleep. He gave a short nod, to dismiss them, before quickly walking down the hall.

The passed a few officers, and a general, his eyes were solely fixated on the hat. Bumping into him, the two, staggering to their feet. He bumbled out a few attempted apologies, slipping the slip of paper into the man’s, inner coat pocket.

The taller, man with the fur hat gave him a withering look, that made him want to wet himself. Giving another curt nod, and a few more apologies, he half ran to one of the supply closets, pulling out the small phone taped under one of the cupboard.

“Hello?”

He almost collapsed on site, thank god, that Mr Moran had picked up. “It’s done sir,” he whispered. “Good.” the boy said, the sound of footsteps sounding, in the background. “It’s done.” Mr Moran repeated. “Understood.” said another, male again.

“Sir?” Nick started. “When-”

“I’ll call when I’ve been given further instructions.” Will Moran said, cutting the call, just as Tim had closed the door of his office. Tim made a beeline upstairs, knocking twice on the door.

“I wouldn’t bother her.” Reyes said, from the couch outside, Ally’s office. “Why not?” Tim asked, dropping his hand. “Mr Dorman.” Reyes said, stretching himself out, blowing a thick puff of smoke into the air, making Tim purse his lips.

“Bet ya, 20 quid, one of these days she’s going to turn him into a new vase.” Reyes chuckled. “Prissy piece of shit.”

“Dr Dorman?” Will asked, leaning against the railing. “Apparently.” Tim said, taking a seat on armchair. Will scoffed, Reyes letting out an amused snort, Tim shaking his head at the two them.

“Someone tell me, how I have three idiots outside my door like this is a damn therapist office?” she snapped, making all three of them jump. Ally leaned against her doorframe, her short dark hair, tickling the edge of the doorframe.

“Sorry, ma’am.” Tim said, jetting up like she set a firecracker underneath him. “Hghum, Kiss ass.” Reyes ‘coughed’.

Tim darkened, a deep red colour. Will smirking, looking down at his shoes.

“Fine. What is it?” Ally said curtly, straightening up, tucking her hands in her pockets. “It’s done.” Tim said, licking his lips, seeming to choose his next words her carefully. “Mr Holmes is in our custody.”

Will was looking at her, not looking; staring. He was looking for some reaction, some change, a micro-expression that would have been missed.

She wouldn’t give it to him.

She met his gaze. “Wonderful.”

~

2 MONTHS EARLIER:

“What do you mean, you’re not?” Ally snapped, pacing up and down her office. Will and Reyes watching her from the corners of the room. Will sitting on the counter, biting his lip. A nervous tick, one born of nerves more so than habit. Reyes on the couch, resting his feet on Ally’s coffee table, something born more out of habit than anything else.

Will bit his lip, watching her, her short hair whipping around, practically screaming her annoyance. “Look, I-Yes. I am aware of--You made a deal! ---Okay, listen to me, I don’t want this to get ugly, so, I will give you a reasonable compensation. I’ll throw in a new, isolated location…by the beach, maybe you could breed doves.” Ally said, rolling her eyes at Will and Reyes.

Reyes snorted, taking another long drag of his cigarette, making the cloud of smoke drift around the loft, making Will’s jaw clench. He hated that smell.

Ally swayed in her spot, furrowing her eyebrows. “I’m sorry, are you…laughing? Mrs Connell, are you laughing at my proposal?” Ally said, the tip of her tongue touching her front teeth. 

The woman said something, making Ally laughed lightly.

He knew better. It was a dangerous, vengeful sort of laugh. The sort of: you-are-screwed-t he-devil-may-be- merciful-but-I sure am not, kind of laugh.

“Okay, Mrs Connell, I want you to listen very closely.” Ally said her voice going softer and darker with each passing word. “You are going to be fulfilling the terms of your deal. You are going to give extra compensation for my trouble of calling you myself.”

“And I’d get your affairs in order. You are going to die in 12 hours. Don’t even start grovelling. It doesn’t work with me.” Ally said calmly. “Have a pleasant evening.” she said, cutting the call, tossing it onto the couch.

Ally sighed, running her hand though her hair. “Give Rossi a call, tell him Code Blue,” Ally said to Reyes. The man glancing at her as she spoke, still letting out puffs of his near finished cigarette.

“Confirm of kill 12 hours or less.” Ally said, massaging her hands.

“Got it, Janie.” Reyes said, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray, pulling his phone out, walking to his room.

“You really going to kill her?” Will asked tiredly. Ally looked up, her short hair ticking the top of her neck, the purple in it, illuminating in the low evening glow.

“You really just asked me that?” Ally said, stretching out, shaking her head out. “Paris, will be mine by dawn. I want you to get Stanley, I want her to help Priya. She’ll need some protection when she’s handling Paris.” Ally said, picking up a pen, twirling it in her fingers.

 “I also want Bev and Andy to be moved to Serbian.” she said, biting the end of the pen thoughtfully. “Baron’s useless. Also, remind me to call Tim and I need our tickets for London, booked and our packages accounted for. We leave in three days.”

 Will sighed giving her a nod, jumping off the counter.

“Problem?” Ally asked, setting the pen down, her calculating eyes, turning their full attention onto him. You, was the first thing that popped in his head, but he wisely shoved it down. “No.”

Ally hummed, looking him over. It was eerie, it was like she had a sort of x-ray vision, except she wasn’t seeing your bones, but your soul, that she was just picking apart piece by piece.

“I hope you know,” she said, walking past him, picking up the small clear pill bottle from the counter. “You’re a shit liar. Pack,” Ally said, his eyes fixating on the bottle, just as it vanished from his view.

“Now.”

~

It was an odd place to meet.
His brother’s grave.

But, Ally had requested it, a simple meeting him and her. No security (in her case assassins) and no foul play (more on her part after she blew up their safe house in Albania; after she refused to come visit him for Christmas.)

“Mycroft.” Ally greeted cordially, from behind him. Mycroft turned, looking her over. It had been some time since he’d last seen her. Her dark hair (darker than it had been in her youth) was short and choppy; just above her shoulders, tinges of purple that bounced on and off in the morning light.

Despite the cold, she was in her usual: dark leather jacket with her white shirt (two buttons undone at the top) with a decorative pattern sewn onto the collar of the shirt. Dark jeans with a pair of boots, with a small heel. A possible attempted to look older or taller on her part.

She looked like Jim Moriarty. It was almost unnerving. It was almost heart-breaking, there was no chance of getting back little Alvina Holmes.

“Nice of you to show up. Like my venue?” she drawled out, leaning on her right leg looking at him.

Her eyes scared him. They weren’t…bright, like before. Not filled with wonder or excitement. When she was young, her eyes always shined no matter what; he remembered the way they danced, when she used walk around his office. The light that would flicker mischievous, when she would pick up a file or something she wasn’t supposed to touch, and make him chastiser her, simply for his attention whenever Sherlock was on a case and she couldn’t be. They would flicker with something either excitement or joy.

They were empty now. Despite everything they had been though in the last two years, that was what hurt him the most. She lost her light.

“I must say Alvina, you did an excellent job of filling your father’s shoes.” he said, twirling the umbrella.

“I know.” Ally half-sung, folding her arms staring at the gravestone. “How’s the diet?”

“How’s the criminal network? Or have you changed to another self-destructive activity.” Mycroft shot back, looking at her from the corner of his eye. Ally stiffened; not much, but noticeable enough for him. “I’m not self-destructive.”

“I think your recent endeavours might disagree.”

“You smoke. You treat nicotine like its oxygen. Don’t whine to me about self-destructive.”

“Your sixteen, Alvina.” Mycroft replied. “Am I? Really?” Ally said, turning to him for the first time since she came. “Since when?”

“Why did you call me here, Alvina?” Mycroft asked, turning to her, moving his umbrella to his other hand. “If you don’t want to listen to me.”

Ally sighed, looking back at the gravestone. “There’s going to be a terror strike on London.”

“What?” Mycroft said sharply.

Ally nodded, a light gust of wind blowing through her hair. “It’s going to happen in the next three months. By a group, that is not associated with me. I’m too busy to clear up your problems or start wars. So, me telling you should give you enough time to get your spy out of the ditch and back in London.” Ally said, scratching her ear. “To stop it, you know…that sort of thing.” she added awkwardly.

Mycroft nodded, rubbing his hand over the head of his umbrella. “Why are you telling me this?”

Ally shrugged. “I quite like London. Pity to see it go up in flames that I didn’t start. I mean, more than half world is burning my name, if London doesn’t…” she mumbled, turning around glanced at the entrance of the graveyard. “It’s just embarrassing.” she said, her phone buzzing.

She glanced at it, tucking it back into her pocket. “Have to go. I’ll see ya.” Ally said trudging up the path.

“221B Baker Street?” Mycroft called over his shoulder.  Ally snorted. “Not in this lifetime.”

Mycroft’s sighed.  “You remind me of your father.”

Ally paused, turning around, her lips twitching. “I don’t know whether to be disgusted or pleased.” she said, biting her lower lip, the short strands of hair waving out in the wind behind her.

Mycroft paused. “Both would be adequate.” he decided. Ally nodded in agreement, turning around. “Ally.” Mycroft said, Ally paused looking back at him.

“I am sorry.”

“For what?” Ally asked.  “Life of the Criminal and the Detective. The Consulting Assholes, right?” she said cheerfully, giving him jazz hands.

Her smile was wide, her tone and body language cheerful and relaxed, to most it looked genuinely happy, close to fool almost anyone; but it didn’t meet her eyes.

“You’re not them.”

Ally smirked. “Then who am I?”

So?? Did you miss me???

Till next time...

Chapter Text

“Never try and wish away your youth, you don’t know when you might grow up.”

Simple words, ones that she had taken far too lightly.

But what did that matter? Growth and change were a constant, it was both illogically and stupid to believe that she and the world around her would stay the same.

‘Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.’

Her mind was going into overdrive. Her heart was racing, as if she were being shot at in her training sessions, instead of shaking in front of the sink, gripping the edges of it so hard her knuckles turned white.

‘Pull yourself together.’       

Ally took a deep breath. A faint nagging rattle of the little pills in the bottom of her bag, tearing at the side of her brain. ‘Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.’

She didn’t need them.

She had to do this herself.

She had to prove…but what was there to prove?

She was better, smarter, stronger---What was there to prove? It was medicine, it was going to help her. Help her. ‘Help me.’

Ally swallowed reaching into her bag, she was still shaking; but that didn’t matter…she had to focus…focus…Where the hell was it?

“Come on…” Ally hissed, agitation sparking in her veins, the wild thought of dumping the satchels contents onto the grime filled cracked tiles and digging through it, seeming like the best solution.

Ally sighed, pulling out the clear bottle. Turning the lid, she slid out on the blue and white coloured pills, popping the one in her mouth. Stuffing the bottle back at the bottom of the bag.

Ally walked back to the sink, closing her eyes, taking another deep breath. ‘One. Two. Three.’ She opened them, her heart slowing to its normal pace, her thoughts filling into their proper positions.

“I can do this.”

PRESENT DAY: TWO YEARS LATER

Things had changed in the past two years, but if there was one thing, one thing she was determined to stay the same, it was John. Sure, she left her home, for the most part, her morals (as some would argue) and her sanity (also debatable). She never could really leave John.

She wasn’t nearly that cruel.

While the visits were scarce and phone calls had lessened over time, there was some…comfort in knowing John was around. Some comfort in knowing that he was there and that maybe, just maybe she wasn’t completely alone.

However, she found herself unable to tell him. The truth; Sherlock Holmes was still running around (she had a feeling her Jim was too, but that a whole different story), being unusually moronic (in her opinion)…She couldn’t bring herself to tell John. He’d been through enough.

“Hi,” Ally greeted, knocking lightly on his door. “Can I come in?” she asked, already poking her head though the door of the small doctor’s office.

He was doing well, much better than she had been. He’d grown a moustache that made him look a hundred, and he was currently dating an ex-assassin. But we all can’t be perfect besides, Mary was fairly sweet and safe, as someone from the life could be. She’d had made sure of that.

“How’s everything?” Ally asked, sitting down on of his spinning chairs. John shrugged, setting his pen down, rubbing his moustache with his hand. Ally blinked, trying to turn off her brain and focus on John conversation about his and Mary’s current relationship, went to park, had a picnic, walk, ice-cream. You know, date stuff.

She tried to turn it off, but her brain was sprouting it out at her.

‘New haircut. Groomed.’
‘Restaurant research on his computer’
‘Ring box in left inner jacket pocket.’
‘Proposal. Two days from now.’
‘Nerves. Unsure how to bridge the subject’
‘Shirt, Mrs Hudson gave him.
‘Plans to visits Baker Street’
‘Dirt on his shoes, soil and grass.’
‘Graveyard-visited She-’

“That has to go.” she blurted out, cutting him off, her right hand unconsciously holding to her left arm. ‘Pull yourself together, Ally.’

“What?”

“That.” Ally said gesturing to her own face. “You look older enough to be my grandfather.” she said, squeezing her hand gently, even though she wanted nothing more than to-‘pull yourself together, Moriarty.’

John frowned, touching it lightly. “Really? Thought I’d try it out…Mary likes it.”

“Does she? Really?” Ally said, hoping the persuasion in her voice was enough to sway him. John blinked, rubbing his chin, but Ally knew her words would stay in his mind and if all went well the blasted thing would be off in two weeks.

“Anyway,” Ally said, quickly changing the subject. “Congratulations are in order I believe.”

John blinked, a gentle smile forming on his lips. “You knew.”

“Mary’s a lucky woman. I’m aware, the congratulations bit happens after but, I’m sure, she’ll say yes.” Ally said quietly. “Thank you, it’s been…um…” John started.

“I know.” Ally finished, staring at her shoes. “Hm.” John said, with a nod.

Her phone buzzed. “Sorry-” Ally mumbled, pulling it out from her pocket, setting it down on the desk, putting the volume down.

John snapped out of his stupor, giving her another small smile. “So, how are you? How’s living with your grandparents been?”

Ally smiled. It was a massive lie, but it was wrapped and tucked so neatly in truth, he wouldn’t have known any better. “Fine. It’s nice to be back in the city though. London air, I needed to breath in the city. Feel its soul, I guess.” Ally mumbled, her phone buzzed again furiously. Ally looked at John, paying it no mind.

H: Answer your bloody phone!

“So, back to Baker Street?”

The phone gave a few loud sharp buzzes, before he could even get a word in. Ally glared at her phone. John glanced down at it. “Need to get that?”

“No.” Ally said quickly, glancing at the ID caller, turning her phone off. “You were saying about-”

Her phone buzzed again. Ally made a noise of irritation, picking it up.

H: Pick your phone up right now Moriarty.

Rolling her eyes, Ally set the phone down. “Nothing, important.” The second she said that, the damned thing buzzed again. Ally smiled tightly, glancing down at the text.

H: Can you just pick the damn phone!

Ally shaking her head, glancing up at John. “It’s nothing, you were talking about-”

H: FOR GODS SAKE MORIARTY. I’M YOUR BLOODY BABYSITTER

“I’m sorry, really annoying, um-”

H: PICK UP YOUR PHONE RIGHT NOW YOU ANNOYING LITTLE SHIT.

“You can take that, Ally. It’s alright.” John said gently, not seeing the least bothered by the phone. Ally shook her head. “No it’s just-”

The phone rang.

 “For gods-” Ally cried, grabbing the phone, jumping up. “What!” she snapped. “Oh, is that how we greet people now?” Reyes replied. “Seriously, Rey. I don’t have time for this-”

“Oh, you have plenty of time, sweetheart.” he said smoothly, but sharply. She hated that tone. “You just want to spend it, fraternising with some half-wit and being all nostalgic and shit with ‘how the good old days had been’ Am I right?” he said, without missing a beat.

Ally sighed, knowing he had won this round. It was dangerous enough to send postcards and picture and texts to John, but seeing him would put him on another level of danger.

She wasn’t exactly the Brainy Ally Holmes anymore. She was Ally Moriarty, the Crown Princess of Crime. The Queen of the Criminal Underworld. And that life. Her life, it came with a whole new set of problems and danger.

“I thought so.” Reyes sang, a rustling of fabric and chattering in the background. “Now get your arse out of there. I’m on my way to pick you up.”

“You called me to tell me that, and you’re not even here yet?” Ally scoffed.

“Yeah.”

“I was just going to take a cab, I’ll meet you there.” Ally said tiredly. “No!”  Reyes spat. “Why not?” Ally asked, knowing his answer was going to be as stupid as his attempted reasoning.

“Last time I checked, short stack, I’m your bodyguard, your brains blow out on my watch, I gotta deal with Moran and I’d rather—”

“Alright, thank you.” Ally said, cutting off his rant. He’d go on all day if she didn’t. “Will with you?”

“Oh, yeah he’s just getting the bags.” Reyes grunted, the sound of him blowing, something, most likely a cigarette echoing out. Ally sighed, running her fingers though her hair. “He’s not your personal assistant, Rey..”

He chuckled. “Yeah, okay….”

“Hey, I’m serious don’t be-”
“Don’t be an idiot, my darling Janie.”
“What does that have-

“Love you.” he said, cutting the call before she could get another word in. “Son of a-” Ally growled under her breath, holding it in, not wanting to blow up in front of John. “So-

“Do I wanna know?” John asked simply. It wasn’t judgment nor cruel, just sort of quiet odd understanding.

Ally tucked her phone in her pocket, shaking her head. “I don’t think so.”

~

The bed felt wrong. Too soft and too hard. She didn’t like it.

The argument in the next room, grew louder. It made her ears ring. Rosa opened her door, closing it gently behind her. “Okay?”

“Nope.” Ally said popping her p. Rosa nodded, running her fingers though her hair. “You should be asleep.” Rosa said, sitting on the edge of her bed, making it creak.

“I don’t do that much anymore.” Ally mumbled. Rosa glanced back at the door, before at the pile of blankets that was Ally. Rosa dug in her pocket, the light jiggle making Ally poke her head out. “What’s that?” Ally asked, Rosa fingering a small bottle, with little tablets in it.

“I thought, I just…” Rose said, opening the bottle handing a pill to Ally. “To help you sleep. It’s meant to help. Calm the nerves and stuff.”

Ally took the pill, holding it in her hand. It was blue and white, a small thing, smooth to the touch. “Here.” Rosa said, handing her a glass of water. Ally took it, swallowing the tablet, taking a dew sips of water.

“Just for tonight.” Rosa said, tucking the bottle into her pocket.

~

“Honestly,” Ally said, slamming her car door. “You’re lucky I didn’t decide to carter you off to Somalia, Don.”

The man in question, Donald, Don Reyes poking his head out, making a face at the sidewalk. “Might have been better than this,” he mumbled sniffing the air. “Smells like someone pissed on your flowerbeds.”

“Thanks for that vivid image.” Will said, closing the car door, standing next to Ally, following her gaze to the door. “Okay?”

It was rare for all three of them to be in the same place, hell, the same time zone; but she knew behind Reyes’s crass comments and rolled eyes, and Will’s forced blank faced, but his flickering eyes that gave him away instantly; that they were concerned for her. Unnecessary of course, but present all the same.

“Fine.” Ally said stiffly, staring at the golden numbers of 221. “Nice door.” Reyes said, straighten his suit. “Thanks.” Ally said, taking a breath, straightening her suit jacket. “Okay, wait here. I’ll call you in when I’m done.”

“What?”
“You’re leaving us outside?”

“Well, yeah.” Ally said, turning back around. “First time I’ve seen her in two years. Imagine how horrified she might be when she sees me with a seventeen year old moron dressed like a declined ballet dancer,” she said gesturing to Will’s tight black long sleeve shirt and pants.

“And a sixty something year old dressed like a wannabe gangbanger out of an NCIS episode.” Ally said, gesturing to Reyes’s clothes, the man frantically looking down instinctively trying to smoothen his brown hair down, looking quite aghast.

“She’ll have a heart attack.” Ally said shortly.

“I’m not sixty! I’m thirty five.” Reyes squealed. “I don’t look like a ballerina.” Will whined.

“Deluded. And I don’t care what you were going for. It’s stupid.” Ally said without missing a beat, knowing quite well that he was in fact thirty five and quite well for his age; but that he was a vain creature and the possibly of a wrinkle might have cause him to go into shock.

“And the term your looking for is probably ballerino,” she added to Will. “But that’s a whole other story, so just stay out here.” she said, opening the door.

~

 “Mrs Hudson?” Ally called, closing the door, looking around the empty entrance. The carpeted stairs.  

“John have a cup of tea make yourself at home. Don't wait up?”  her father’s voice. The sound making her jerk.

She had reached the bottom of the stairs waiting patiently for her father. When she paused, hearing a loud 'Damn My Leg!' shout from the flat.

Sherlock looked at her raising his eyebrows. "He's an army doctor" she said walking back up slowly. Sherlock nodded in thought. “He is.”

“Mrs Hudson!” Ally called louder, shaking her head violently. She didn’t need this. She didn’t want this.

"Oh look at you all happy it’s not decent" Mrs Hudson said smiling brightly.

"Who cares about decent the game, Mrs Hudson is on.”

“Yes!” Ally cheered. He grinned at her, walking out the door hailing loudly. “Taxi!"

Ally grinned to herself as she ran onto the pavement, and jumped into the yellow taxi.

‘The game is on!’

Ally took a deep breath, lightly touching the wall on the side.

“That was ridiculous.” John said, as the three walked into Baker Street. Pulling off their coats, Ally sank into the stairs. He and John leaned against the wall. All of them breathing heavily. “That was the most ridiculous thing. I've ever done.”

“And you invaded Afghanistan.”

The three laughed. “That wasn't just me.” John said. “Why aren't we back at the restaurant?” he asked. “They can keep an eye out. It was a long shot anyway.” he replied, Ally leaned against the wall.  “So what were we doing there?” John asked.

“Oh, just passing the time. And proving a point.” he said, Ally grinned looking up at the two. John stared at them. “What point?”

“You.” Sherlock said, raising his voice. “Mrs Hudson! Dr Watson will take the room upstairs.” 

“Says who?” John asked. Ally got up, smiling as the knocker knocked. “I believe the man at the door.” she said. He smiled, ruffling her hair fondly as John opened it.

Ally leaned her head against the wall, shutting her eyes. She could almost feel him, standing next to her, smiling. When he was just Dad. When it was just them.

 “So what were we doing there?” John asked.

“Oh, just passing the time. And proving a point.”

Ally opened her eyes, looking into her father’s. Curled hair, suit, that was neat, but a little rumpled, breathless from running, adrenaline still coursing through his vein.

“You love proving points,” Ally whispered, looking into his eyes, eyes that she used to think, matched hers…just a little…which she used to hope…matched hers…just a little…

“It’s what got you killed.”

The sound of a click of a lock, unlocking making her father vanish, snapping her harshly back into reality.

Still in one of her floral dresses, a little flour on her black sleeve, her hair the same way she had left it. Mrs Hudson. Ally straighten up, giving the woman a small smile. “Hi, Mrs Hudson. It’s been a while.”

The woman blinked, looking her up and down. “I…Ally?”

Ally smiled.

~

The room was quiet.

Seb was out, busy. But he’d made himself clear, he was only in to make sure Jim’s life didn’t go to waste. His heart wasn’t in it. Not anymore. She couldn’t have that. Seb wanted out, she needed to give it to him. To do that, she needed to learn. Really learn.

Which meant this.

“You look like one of the hair ball my cat throws up.” the woman said, ruffling her dark hair. Ally sighed. “Okay, fine whatever. Will you train me in the art of self-defence or not.”

“The fact that you said, ‘art of self-defence’ is telling me that you’re not cut out for this, as much as your pink cardigan.” the woman replied taking another sip of her coffee. Black, 4 sugars a dash of milk.

“It’s not pink.” Ally snapped. “It’s salmon. And that shouldn’t matter anyway.”

“Okay,” Lydia said, looking her up and down. Her eyes locking on hers. Ally meeting her cold brown eyes. Lydia downed her coffee and scoffed. “God, Rosa wasn’t kidding, you really wanna do this.”

“Yes.” Ally said stiffly. Lydia licked her lips. “Alright. You wanna kick it with the big leagues, short stack?”

Ally nodded. Lydia set her cup down, taking a sip of her water from the glass next to her(or what she thought was water) “First thing, first. Lose the cardigan and put on something loose, coz I’m going to be kicking the crap out of you in an hour. While you learn how to stop me.”

Ally nodded, getting up.

“Kid,” Lydia said, making her turn. “For future reference, don’t wear cardigans, you need something that makes you look strong, and while, the cardigan is nice. Unfortunately it won’t garner the respect you’re gonna need.”

Ally looked down, pulling on her sleeve, her eyes drifting to the dark pull out bin, near the kitchen sink.

Lydia looked at the bin, gravelly. “The world you’re going into. You lose yourself. You have to become something, you never thought you’d be. Or else, you die. So I’m gonna ask, you sure you want to do this?”

Ally took a deep breath, pulling of her cardigan and dumping it in the bin. Lydia’s gaze fixated on the bin. Ally folded her arms. “I’ll be ready in 15 minutes. You can kick the crap out of me for an extra 45 minutes.”

~

The hallways were silent, unnaturally so, then again, she hadn’t been there since that day when they saved those kidnapped children with Sherlock and John. It was still the same.

The second the investigation finished they called her, as expected. She had been in Paris at the time gaining control of the Parisian’s underground criminal network. It didn’t take long for her to get ‘her people’ sewn deep in Parisian government and for her to gain total control of its criminal network. Adding it to her ‘collection’, as Will called it. She hadn’t planned on making a trip back to London yet, but Lestrade’s ‘investigation’ on Jim Moriarty and Sherlock Holmes was big surprise, proved everything that she and John had said, years ago.

Assholes.

On the bright side, she had handled her shit with Mycroft, so that was that.

“Ally?” Lestrade said, making her turn around. He looked old. Weary and broken, his wife left him again. His daughter hates his guts. He’s smoking again, lost his house, now living in a small flat. A disgraced DI, that’s got his first win in a while.

She crossed her hands behind her back, giving him the smallest of smiles. She’d been here less than three hours, and she already flown into extreme deduction mode. Unbelievable. His voice was warm, a little unsure. It was an uncomfortable reminded of John and Mrs Hudson’s reactions to her.

 “Lestrade.” she greeted, glancing behind him at Donovan who was staring at her; her mouth slightly open. Bitch.

Ally took a breath, she expected to be angry, fluming, while she felt it, the simmering, angry it was hot and raging. It was cold. Maybe that was good, she didn’t need to blow up, or something in Scotland Yard. 

“Here to tell me what I already know or is there something new you’d like to add?” she asked, watching the colour drain from his face. “Well?” she asked, glancing between the two of them. “Donovan?” she said, watching the woman lick her lips, looking down at her shoes. “What cat got your tongue?”

“Nothing new.” Lestrade replied, shuffling on his feet. Ally nodded. “Then why am I here?”

Silence. “Well?” Ally asked, glancing at the Superintendent’s office, as Lestrade’s phone rang. This is why she was here.

“Need to get that?” Ally asked, watching the phone intently, as Lestrade tried to turn it off. “Yeah, sorry, its-”

“It’s alright.” Ally said, Lestrade giving her a pat on the shoulder that made her tense at the sudden movement. He gave her an odd look, before licking his lips, walking a few paces away, to answer the phone.

Her gaze drifted back to the Superintendent’s office. “Out sick. He’ll be back tomorrow.” Donovan answered quietly.  Ally hummed. “Really?”  

“Look, Ally,” Donovan started, running a finger though her hair.

“I don’t want an apology. I don’t want sympathy. I don’t want whatever you are going to give me, in some attempt to make yourself feel better.” Ally said, glaring at her. “I got enough to deal with.” she mumbled, watching Lestrade walk over to them.

His face told her everything.

“Sorry,” Ally said before he could get a word in. “I’d say he was a good man…but honestly he was an asshole,” Ally said making a face. Donovan staring at Lestrade. “Well, I’ll leave this in your capable hands,” Ally said gesturing to the phone in Lestrade hand.

“I’m sure it’s an open-shut case,” Ally said, tucking some hair behind her ear. “With any luck, I’ll hear about in the Sunday news report in about a year or two.” she said with a smile.

“Got to run, lots to do. So…yeah,” Ally said, straightening out her jacket sleeves, putting her hands into her coat pockets. “Thanks for calling me, I guess. See you around.” she said, smiling at them before walking out, opening the door.

Walking less than a block away. Ally pulled out her phone. “Tommy,” she greeted. “Beautiful work, as usual. I mean, gorgeous.----Perfect. Will and I will meet you at the house for the doc”---“Bye.”

She said, tucking the phone into her pocket, walking to the black car in front of her opening the passenger’s door. “Will.”

“You’re happy.” Will said, starting the car. “It was a good day.” Ally replied, putting on her seatbelt.

“Where to?” Will asked.

“Home.”

Thoughts???

Thank you for all the reads, favs, follows, and comments!! 

Till next time...

Chapter Text

“Good morning,” Ally greeted, stepping inside the room, the smell of alcohol, smoke, lavender and gun powder burning her nose. “Thank you all for agreeing to meet with me today,” she said to the table, consisting of eleven people.

In these eleven people, consisting of three well-dressed woman, seven older men, dressed in suits and one younger man, probably around eighteen, turned to her, in dead silence.

Ally walked past all of them, taking her seat at the head of the table. Ally put her file down, setting her pen in the middle. Forcing a smile on her face. “Shall we begin?”

~

“Tim,” Ally called, pacing up and down in her study. “I want to know, did you issue the new shipment yet? I want it to come in by Monday.”

“I did,” Tim chirped, opening the door, sitting down at one of her chairs, opening up his laptop. “I also got Cleo to ship a little extra, to feed to the police, they bust that, they won’t see the other shipment.”

“Good job,” Ally said, patting his back. Tim smiled shyly, running his fingers though his light brown hair, making it flop around. “Thanks.” he mumbled, pushing up his glasses. “Did you need anything else?”

Ally paused, slightly bending the file in her hand. “Umm, you what, check in our ‘terrorists’, I don’t want them doing something without me knowing about it. And call Will in here, please. I need to discuss something with him.”

“Course. You want coffee?” Tim asked, picking up his laptop. “Please.” Ally said, tossing her file on her desk. Tim nodded curtly, closing the door gently.

Ally blew a raspberry, drumming her fingers against the table.

“Oh, don’t you know I find that, sooo annoying.”

She froze, shutting her eyes. Inhale. Exhale. “Then go away. I am busy.” Ally said, staring at her desk, her fingers not drumming, but remained froze in place.

“Hmmm, you and I both know you wouldn’t like that.”

Ally sighed, turning around facing him. He met her gaze, leaning back on the armchair, across from her swinging his legs, looking up at her. “Nice suit.” he said. “Westwood.” Ally replied, leaning back in her chair.

Jim grinned. “Naturally,” he said, resting his head against his hand. “So, what’s plaguing you my darling?”

“I can’t keep doing this…” Ally mumbled.

 “Doing what?” Jim asked, getting up, locking the door, pulling a chair next to her desk, turning it backwards. “Running an international criminal enterprise? Or talking to your dear old dead daddy?”

“Whichever’s easiest to shake.” she said, watching him sit down, his hands swinging back and forth on the chair back. She could the slight wrinkle on his suit jacket, the way the material moved when he shifted in place. She could see the slight hair on his hands, the cufflinks.

“Hmmm,” he said, his eyes drifting to her middle drawer. “Think we both know that’s not happening anytime soon, now do we?”

“Okay, you can leave now.” Ally said, turning back to her desk. The longer she looked, the more really he seemed.

“Oh, I think I’ll stay a bit longer.” he said stretching himself out like a cat, pulling out his phone. “You know, there was a time were you wanted me around, you remember.”

“Go, away.” Ally whispered. “Please.”

“I remember, that time, where was it—?” Jim mumbled, pacing behind her.

“It’s not real. He’s not real.” Ally mumbled, covering her ears. “He’s not real.”

“Baker Street!” he shouted, clapping his hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “You remember? Who am I kidding of course you do!” he said, smiling at her.

“He’s not real. He’s not real.”

“Baker Street, mmm…cleaning out dear old Sherl’s room, and those nifty floorboards—”

“Hey! What gives?” Will said holding his hands up, the squished muffin on the floor. “Sorry,” Ally mumbled, rubbing her forehead.

“You okay?” Will said, throwing the muffin in the bin, sitting down on the chair, behind her desk. “Fine. Tired.” Ally said, taking a deep breath, looking up, staring at her armchair. “I need you to check on, um…where is it? The…” Ally mumbled, rummaging though the files.

Will watching her eagle-eyed. “Al’s this one?” he asked, sliding the one in front. “Yeah.” Ally said, staring at the manila file. “Just make sure no ties to us, ensure they can’t contract us, um-”

“Standard stuff. I got it.” Will said, his dark eyes fixating on her. “You sure you’re okay?”

Ally pulled on a smile. “I will be.”

~

“Seriously, it’s not a joke?” Sherlock asked, gesturing to his lip. “You’re-you’re really keeping this?”
John cleared, his throat, glancing up at him. “Yeah.” He said stiffly. Sherlock raised an eyebrow “You’re sure?”

“Mary likes it.”
“Mmmmmm, no she doesn’t.”
“She does.”
“She doesn’t.”

John sighed, glancing at Mary, who then made a small, incoherent apologetic noise. John’s eyes widened, reaching out, attempting to cover his moustache. “Oh! Brilliant.”

“I’m sorry. Oh, I’m sorry – I didn’t know how to tell you.” Mary said, rubbing his arm, John shaking it off, shaking his head, “No, no, this is charming I’ve really missed this!” he said, shaking his head again, before taking a step closer to Sherlock.  “One Word, Sherlock. That is all I would have needed. One word to let me know that you were alive.”

Sherlock sighed. “I’ve nearly been in contact so many times, but…” he said quietly. John silently laughing to himself. “…I worried that, you know, you might say something indiscreet Sherlock finished.

‘What!” John shouted. Sherlock shrugged, his head bobbing back and forth. “Well, you know, let the cat out of the bag.”

“Oh, so this is my fault?!” John yelled. Mary shaking her head, giggling. “Oh, God!”

John shook his head again. “Why am I the only one who thinks that this is wrong – the only one reacting like a human being?!” he yelled.

“Over-reacting.” Sherlock mumbled under his breath. John whipped around. “Over-reacting?! Over-reacting?!”

“John!” Mary hissed, glancing around, people slowly beginning to pay attention to them.
“Over-reacting.” John shouted, his voice getting progressive louder as he continued. “So you fake your own death ...”

“Shh!” Sherlock said,
“...and you waltz in ’ere large as bloody life...”
“Shh!”
“...but I’m not supposed to have a problem with that, no,” John whisper-yelled. “Because Sherlock Holmes thinks it’s a perfectly OKAY THING TO DO!” he shouted.

“Shut up, John! I don’t want everyone knowing I’m still alive!” Sherlock shouted, seeming to give-up on whispering. “Oh, so it’s still a secret, is it?” John shouted back.

“Yes!” Sherlock said loudly, glancing around at the customers in the shop. “It’s still a secret. Promise you won’t tell anyone.”

“Swear to God!” John said, blowing out a long breath turning around. “Over-reacting,” he hissed to himself. “You didn’t see what happened to Ally, huh? Over-reacting, throwing himself off a building in front of your daughter—” John turned around again shaking his head. Sherlock paused, his face become unreadable, yet not cold or impassive. The sooner it came it vanished.

Sherlock edged closer, whispering to John and Mary. “London is in danger, John. There’s an imminent terrorist attack and I need your help.”

John blinked, throwing a ‘can you believe this guy?!’ look at Mary. “My help?”

Sherlock looked at him, a smile slowly forming onto his face. “You have missed this. Admit it. The thrill of the chase, the blood pumping through your veins, just the two of us against the rest of the world…”

John grabbed the lapels of his shirt, rearing his head back.

~

“I know this is rather…unorthodox, but consider the circumstances I thought it would be prudent to discuss the future of my late father’s endeavours-”

“You mean when he decided to put a bullet in his brain, and left us all high and dry and stuck in his shit?” said one of the older men.

Ally blinked. “I mean, that’s one way to put it…” she mumbled, awkwardly shuffling her papers on the table. Two of the woman shared a look, almost about to giggle. “Umm...”

“Listen, Janie, Can I call you Janie?” said one of the men…Hendry if memory served her right. “I just want you to know, none of use are gonna come after you, we don’t blame you at all. You’re dad, he was good to me. Got me outta prison half a dozen times. If you want to dismantle the network, we got it. Alright?”

“That settles it then.” The man who spoke before, Rowling said, getting up. “See ya.” he said, the rest of them making a move to get up.

“Actually,” Ally said loudly. “That’s not why I called this meeting. Please sit down Mr Rowling. You’re going to want to hear this, I assure you.”

The man turned, letting out a puff of smoke. Ally took his pause as an answer, pulling out a bit of paper from her pocket. “Final orders from James Moriarty. Addressed to me.”

Every besides Rowling, sat up straighter. “Well? What’s it say?” Rowling asked, letting out another puff of smoke, his eyes fixated on the wall.

Ally looked up, meeting the groups eyes for the first time. “Kill the lot.”

~

They’d been thrown out of the kebab shop, and John had been promptly banned for life.

“I don’t understand.” Sherlock said, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, holding an napkin underneath with the other. Blood was still running from his nose, messing his the lapels of his white shirt and the end of his coat. “I said I’m sorry. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

Mary blinked, swaying slowly on beside him, glancing behind at John, who was hailing a cab. “Gosh. You don’t know anything about human nature, do you?”

Sherlock lowered his head, looking at her properly since he’s arrive. “Mmm, nature? No. Human? ... No.”

Mary smiled. “I’ll talk him round.” She said gently. Sherlock removed the napkin from under his nose. “You will?”

“Oh yeah.” Mary said with a wide grin. Sherlock blinked, tilting his head slightly.

Only child. Liar. Linguist. Clever. Part time nurse. Shortsighted. Guardian. Liar. Bakes Own Bread. Disillusioned Cat Lover. Romantic. Liar. Appendix Scar. Lib Dem. Secret Tattoo. Size 12. Liar. Liar

“Mary.” John called, the woman turning around. She was calm, relaxed even under his deductive gaze, which had been known to irk people. She gave him a last smile, before waltzing over to John.

John closed Mary’s door, getting in, glancing at her. “Can you believe his nerve?” Mary smiled back. “I like him.”

“What?”

Mary shrugged. “I like him.” She said softly. John sighed, digging in his pocket, pulling out his phone. Dialling the first number on it. “Pick up, Ally.”

~

“Are you threatening us, girl?” Rowling chortled.

“Good, you follow.” Ally said, setting the paper down. Laughter broke out over the table, everyone but the young boy and Hendry were in fits of giggles.

Ally blinked, undeterred by the laughter. “I was surprised by the order as well.” she continued, over the laughter, her voice going louder to be heard. “So I did some digging and I found, why. You see, Mr Rowling, you’ve been embezzling money in off-shore accounts. Money gained by the network, used to fund your own, abet failing criminal enterprise.”

The laughter seized instantly. Ally took a breath, continuing quietlty.“Ms Hugra and Ms Devou has used her contracts to state up an online prostitution rings and kidnapping scandals, children. Not even 5 years old are being sold like candy bars. All over Europe and South America”

“Mr Requni has started up his drug trafficking ring in Thailand, its large and near undetectable. Unless you’re me of course. Mr Oventue and Ms Tenset has started their own criminal terrorist network in both London and Paris.”

“Mr Evanson has his person network of assassins that have now been issued to Somalia to stop incoming deliveries by the UN. Mr Nwsesiti has used his government position to embezzle money from the people of Ghana and has dipped his sticky fingers into many other political affairs for money. Mr Choi has been playing around with nuclear…Hendry.” Ally drawled. “He’s just an idiot.”

“And finally, Mr Tewksbury,” Ally said fixating her eyes on him. “He doesn’t want to be here, he wanted to go to art school, but his mother had forced him here. Sorry,” she added.

The room was silence. You could hear Tewksbury breathing.

“All in all, my point is, you’ve all run rampant without my father keeping you all in check.” Ally said, standing up pacing around the table. “You’ve all made a large mess of things. Caused a lot of problems. Usually, I would have tried to salvage these alliances, for my father’s sake, but…it seems carrying out his wishes is more…acceptable.”

“You really think, you,” Hugra said, getting up staring her down. “Are able to do all that? Hmm? Maybe you can remember facts, but you can’t kill any of us.”

Ally smiled. “I’m afraid, I already have.”

~

Ally pinched her brow, flipping tabs on her computer, her mind not focusing on one, but too focused to not stop. There was a connection, one that could be assumed, one that could be there. Both were necessary in her new line of work.

Running her short hair though her fingers, pulling lightly on the purple strands. “Shit.” Ally grumbled, tapping on her laptop keys, her phone buzzing on the counter. “Speak, quickly.”

“How are you feeling?”

“What? I’m busy. Goodbye, Will.” Ally said her finger hovering over the end call button.

“Wait! Wait! Wait!” Will shouted, Ally pausing. “Ally, there’s something, not easy to see on the news…”

“News?” she mumbled, already typing while he spoke. “I just want you to breath in and out and…”

“What the--?” Ally mumbled, freezing. BOFFIN DETECTIVE BACK FROM THE DEAD. She scrolled down, more and more articles popping up, blog posts, twitter, facebook...

HAT DETECTIVE ALIVE

SHERLOCK HOLMES: OUT OF THE HERSE

“Ally? Als? You still there. Al-” She cut the call. Was this shock? Was she in shock again?  The annoying thing she found about being in ‘shock’ it never seemed the same. There was no pattern no formula. And it always hit you like a bullet.

“Huh, subtle.” Ally scoffed, shaking her head, slamming her laptop, throwing her phone somewhere aimlessly. Leaning back in her chair, her eyes drifting to her middle desk drawer.

“Nope,” Ally mumbled, getting up, pacing around her office.

Deep breathes. One. Two. Three. Hold. One. Two. Three. Hold. One. Two. Three.

“Screw it.” she hissed, locking her door, pulling open her middle desk drawer, pulling out a needle.

~

Thoughts???

Thank you for all the reads, favs, follows, and comments!!!

Till next time...

Chapter Text

Warning: Nothing bad, but just to note, Ally's thoughts do get kinda dark. Nothing extreme, or explicit. I just want to put this here just in case. It'll start and end with this symbol #*if anyone wants to skip it. 

“London. It’s like a great cesspool into which all kinds of criminals, agents and drifters are irresistibly drained.”

‘Ally, it’s me.’ John said, though his voicemail. Ally adjusting her shirt to fit neatly in place with her suit jacket. ‘Look, I don’t know if you heard the news…or if he told you himself…but,’ he sighed. ‘Sherlock’s alive. He’s alive and, just call me back when you get this. Okay?’

Ally sighed, her hand hovering over John’s contract, before she deleted the voicemail, letting it down on her desk. She’d deal with that later.

“Sometimes it’s not a question of who? Is a question of who knows?”

“Will, you’re going to be late,” Tim snapped, taking the mug out of his hand, promptly throwing the coffee down the sink.

“I was still drinking that!” Will said, snatching a large chocolate chip cookie, shoving the entire biscuit into his mouth, before Tim could snatch it from him. Tim gave him a withering look, his dark grey eyes, turning to storm clouds. “

“If this man cancels his papers, I need to know.”

“Any movement from our Lord?” Ally asked, taking a sip of her tea, tucking her hands in her pockets, the chilly London air feeling unnatural unwelcoming. “Nothing yet.” Will hummed, taking his coffee from the stand, thanking the man.

“I don’t like it.” Ally said, sitting on the bench, to her left she spotted Agatha, a member of Sherlock’s homeless network, quickly snapping a picture of the man on the other side of the street. “He’s too quiet.”

“If this woman leaves London without putting her dogs into kennels, I need to know.

“Lord Moran?” Will asked, leaning back, throwing an arm over the bench, his messy dark hair looking like it had never met a comb. “Hmmm.” Ally said, taking another sip of tea, giving Will a look. “We’re on a case, not a beach.”

He paused, before retracting his arms, but still leaning. “At least I look natural, you’re too stiff, like you ate a whole lemon.”

“I don’t look stiff, I look London.”
“London doesn’t look like that.”

“You clearly haven’t been on the tube on a Monday morning.” she said dryly, trailing her finger against the rim of the cup. Will scoffed. “You think, he thinks we’re going to betray him-”

“Mmmhhh.” Ally said, leaning forwards. To Will’s eyes (and to others) it looked like she was watching the cars. He knew better, she was probably dissecting each motor engine, or seeing the city plan. Will bit his lip, whispering into her ear. “But, we are.”

“He shouldn’t know that.” Ally said, shoving his shoulder back. “He thinks we’re weak. He thinks we’re the rats.”

“The rats?” Will said, straightening up. “Rats,” Ally repeated. “There are certain people-they are markers. If they start to move, I’ll know something’s up-like rates deserting a sinking ship.”

“Huh, he thinks he’s going to scare us into jumping ship.” Will muttered under his breath. “Hm.” Ally said, smirking slightly.

“What?” Will asked, his face breaking into a smile. Ally shrugged. “It seems you’re not a complete idiot after all.”

~

Schrodinger’s Cat. A thought experiment. In laymans terms, a living cat is placed into a steel box along with a hammer, poison. A relay mechanism will trip the hammer, breaking the vial of poisonous gas. The cat will die. But since you would not know if the cat was dead or alive until you opened the box, the cat is both living and dead.

Before the sainted meeting, Ally had performed this very experiment, with nine participants/members of her father’s network. Mr Rowling, Ms Hugra, Ms Devou, Mr Requni, Mr Oventue, Ms Tenset, Mr Choi, Mr Evanson, Mr Nwsesiti.

The other two, Hendry and Terksbury were both new and clueless, their lives were spared. She would have preferred an non-lethal option. She begged for one…

When the nine bodies had dropped to the floor from the slow acting poison they had ingested just hours before. Moran and William had left for day, with Moran’s resignation letter on her desk.

She ran to the bathroom, and threw up until the red had coated the bottom of the toilet bowl. Sitting there on the cool tiles, that burned her skin, she dug into the cupboard for a needle.

~
“She’s not here at the moment.” the boy, Tim said, pushing up his glasses. “Can I take a message?”

The tall dark-haired man shook his head. “No. Just tell her…” Sherlock said, shaking his head. “Nevermind. Thank you.”

“Anytime.” Tim said, scribing something down on his pad of paper. “Have a nice day.”

Sherlock nodded curtly. “You too.” he said, walking out of the building, tucking a schedule he snagged from Tim’s desk into his pocket.

~#*

She never thought of dying since she was younger, but most days. Most days, even when she knew she didn’t want to die, she wasn’t entirely sure if she wanted to live. Living was hard. Harder than people think. Hurt comes from all corners, from people you know. From people you don’t. The littlest thing may strike harder than intended. A small whisper may be loudest shout in another mind.

Someday’s, somedays felt suffocating. Physically painful.

The worst days, where when everything felt normal. When everyone and everything felt good, and then the scale tips and you’re thrown back.

All the progress to be better; just goes down the drain.

Back to square one.

It was hard to pick yourself up again. And again and again. She wondered if it would be better to just sit there at the bottom of the pit.

But she still got up. Something made her still get up. Whether it was a blessing or a curse she didn’t know. But it was there. Someday’s it was all she had.

~#*

“Where the hell were you?!” Will hissed, falling in step with her, Ally adjusting her coat, pressing the button on the lift. “Busy.”

“I was calling you for over an hour, I thought you were dead.” Will snapped, crossing his arms in front of his jacket. “You’re so overdramatic.” Ally said, checking her watch. “We’re not even late.”

“We’re meeting with a leader of a terrorist organisation that not only wants you dead, but London in shambles, but I’m overdramatic?” Will said, shaking his head. “Not to mention taking your calls and rescheduling your meets and packages when you decided to vanish of the face of the damn Earth.”

Ally yawned widely, adjusting her hair. Will grabbing her arm, making her stop. “I’m not your secretary.”

“No, you’re my errand boy.” Ally replied, glaring at him. “And if being my number two, is so damn difficult. Don’t be.” Ally snapped. “You may think just because we know each other for longer than most gives us a special relationship, that you can run your mouth and tell me all the shit that you think is so hard. It doesn’t.”

Will linked his lips, sighing. “I’m worried about you.”

“You shouldn’t be, I’d be worried about you though.” Ally said, the lift pinging, walking out into the reception office. “Lord Moran’s office, please. We have an appointment.”

“Got it, name please.”

“Moriarty.”

“You can go right up. Floor 6, second office on the right.” the receptionist said, giving them a smile. Ally returning it. “Thank you,” she said, stepping back, going back to the lift. Will falling back in step, pressing the six button.

“I know it doesn’t give me special treatment.” Will said quietly. “But, I’d like to think after everything we’re still friends, and friends worry about each other. Especially when they know something’s not right.”

“Friends is a construct, we make to trick ourselves into feeling less alone.” Ally said, fixing her earring. “And believe me, William, if you want friends, you’re in the wrong business. Besides, I’m fine.”

“Now,” Ally said, straightening her jacket sleeve. “Let me do the talking, he’s slippery, but he’s not as clever as he believes. Just…smile and be receptive.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve done this.” Will reminded her. “I know,” Ally said, staring at her reflection. “But this makes or breaks London.” she said, glancing at him. “Let’s aim for the first one, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Will agreed, watching her fidget slightly in her place.

~

It was a destruction and clean-up of network, more so than an rebuilding, but she couldn’t help it if she made friends and enemies while she was doing this. This wasn’t for her father’s safely nor her other’s legacy. As cheesy as it sounded, this was for the world…and to some degree a bit for her. A distraction, something to occupy and challenge her mind, after all there was a thin line between committing and solving crimes. If you could do one, you could most definitely do the other…

Russian Roulette had an interesting history. The exact origins of Russian Roulette are unclear, but it was suspected to have started in the nineteenth century. With Russian prison guards forcing their inmates to play and bet on the outcome of the game. That was the way, the brutes of the Bratva seemed to handle things, they weren’t too pleased with her ‘purge’. Truthfully, the Bratva had only appeared on her a few months afterwards, yet she’d been preparing for this since the day she’d killed the heads of the crime syndicates.

“You know how to play?” Vanya asked, sliding the gun across the table. Vanya. New head of the family. The stakes where simple. They win, they take over her dead body. She wins, they disband, go to jail over Vanya’s dead body. They were rather confident.

“Of course.” Ally said, picking it up, weight it in her hand. “Let’s skip the pleasantries. Shall I begin?”

~

“And your pen pal’s emails just stopped, did they?” Sherlock said gently, patting Anne’s hand gently, as she whimpered, large tears sliding down her face, her eyes red and puffy; still raw from earlier tears.

Molly glanced across to her, continuing to scribble down her notes at the table on her flipbook. Anne’s step-father sitting beside her reached a hand out, giving her sympathetic looks, a comforting hand placed on her shoulder.

He shouldn’t have, but at the forefront of his mind, Ally remained; his mind seeming to have decided to replay moments of her own past tears, redness of her eyes, the shaking hands, and the refuse to hold her head up high. The shatter from within that hurt so much more than one would think. He still didn’t hear from her.

“And you really thought he was the one, didn’t you? The love of your life?” Sherlock said softly. Anne now taking of her glasses, sobbing into her hands.

Sherlock glancing to Molly, taking her aside, his back to his clients. “Stepfather posing as online boyfriend.” he whispered to her, Molly gasping, quickly covering her mouth: “What?!”

“Breaks it off, breaks her heart. She swears off relationships, stays at home – he still has her wage coming in.” Sherlock explained, Molly looking nothing short of aghast.

“Mr Windibank, you have been a complete and utter-”

“Useless waste of time!” an all too familiar voice shouted, slamming the door. “Seriously? This now?” Ally said whipping around, gesturing to the clients on the sofa. “Because what, creepy-internet-father-boyfriend more important than a terror alert?”

“What!”

“Love, I had-”

“How could-”

“Hallway. Now, shoo.” Ally said, picking up the tissue box on the coffee table, throwing it out the door, pulling out a card from her inner jacket pocket handing it young woman. “Move out. Apartment with good control rent. You’re welcome. Go away please.” she said, pushing the woman out of the door. “There’s a guy with a bat in his boot outside, feel free to use it on him.” Ally added, closing the door, turning to them.

“Hi Molly, do you mind?” Ally said, opening the door again. “Oh, yes, I mean no.” Molly said, grabbing her notebook, and a few papers, running out the door. “I’ll just wait out here th-”

“Thank you.” Ally said, slamming the door, turning to him.

She’d gotten tall. Thirteen year old Ally, not yet reached her growth spurt was just a little way above his elbow. She looked far above his shoulder now, and he was sure if she stood just a little closer to him, her eye-line would be just slightly above his nose.

She’d lost some of her baby-like features, the full cheeks and large eyes, which had become sharper, whether due to genetics or malnourishment. She was thinner than he’d thought she’d be. Dark rings that made her face look smaller and skin slightly sallow.

Short hair it came to her chin, and looked darker than he remembered. It suited her, but aged her she didn’t look sixteen. She didn’t dress like it either, then again, Ally never really dressed nor acted the way others her age did. Her eyes did, unnerve him. They were empty, blank, totally blank like he was looking into the eyes of a corpse in the brink of the loss of life. The light was still there, a mere flicker, but everything else dulled. Dead.

She folded her arms. “We need to talk.”

~

Thoughts???

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