A Consulting Detective, Ex Army Doctor, and Child Mercenary Walk Into A Room

Chapter 2: The Reichenbach Fall

Sherlock and I walk into the living room seeing John reading the papers, eating cereal in his pajamas. He sees us enter and instinctively hides the paper he's reading. "Boffin," Sherlock says. "You've seen it," John sighs. Sherlock goes to the kitchen - immerses himself in an experiment. Ripping up fibers from a carpet tile. I pour myself a cup of milk. "Everybody gets one," says John. "Everybody gets one, what?" I ask. "A tabloid prefix. Sexy Amanda. Nasty Nick. Shouldn't worry." "No? Look inside. Page five. Column six. First sentence," I said. John opens the paper and reads the rest of the coverage. "Placid John Watson!" John reads, appalled. "Could be worse. Turgid John Watson. Stolid. Sluggish. Dense," Sherlock lists off.

"Pass the paper, John," I say. "Boffin is only one step away from smartarse. I warned you. These people already smell blood. You're fair game." I glance at Sherlock who's not even remotely interested. "Ever since that thing with the painting - you've landed smack bang in the middle of the public gaze," John rants. "What's it matter?" Sherlock asks. "Oh, not a lot. As long as you don't mind being scrutinized by eleven million people over cornflakes. I know you're conceited - I don't care - I've worked through it. Some days it even makes me smile. But that's not how the press will see it. Think of all the people you've pissed off. You could get crucified. Why don't you try to -" "Try to what?" Sherlock asks. "I don't know." "John -" I start. "Try to tone it down a bit," John says. "It," Sherlock repeats. "All that stuff you do," John explains. "You're the hero of the hour at the moment but they can turn on a sixpence, these people. Don't give them any ammo." Sherlock and I turn to stare at John. "What?" "It bothers you," I said. "Yes." "What people think," Sherlock adds on. "Yes!" "Of me. I don't understand. Why would it upset you?" John was going to say something but then changed his mind. "Just try to keep a low profile. Find yourself a little case this week. Stay out of the headlines."

...

Further into the day, I'm downstairs helping Mrs. Hudson at the cafe. I'm behind the cashier ignoring some customer bitching that his soup isn't hot enough or something when my phone rings. "Son of a bitch!" I say out loud. I drop everything and race out of the door and flag down a cab. "Lune?!" I hear Mrs. Hudson call out worriedly. "Sorry Mrs. Hudson, but I've got to go!" I throw myself in the cab and shout at the cabbie. "The Tower of London! Quickly!" My phone screen glows with the picture of Jim taking a selfie while wearing the crown jewels. I forward the message to Sherlock and John as the cab heads to a stop. Lestrade and his team are already there trying to break open the door to the jewel house. "Lune? What are you doing here?!" Lestrade asks. I'm climbing the steps; ragged and out of breath. My face was as pale as snow. "Forget about that Mr. Lestrade. My dad is inside with the crown jewels for God's sake!"

A SWAT team is inside using electric screwdrivers, taking the access panels off the walls. They cut the wires that lead to the vault doors and the metal screens slide up. I ran into the jewel house with Lestrade and Donovan following closely behind. And there is Jim ... sitting alone, wearing the Crown of England, the Queen's ermine-trimmed robe and carrying the scepter and orb. "Shit," I mutter. Dad's smirking at me as the SWAT team surrounds him. "No rush." They cuff Jim and lead him away into a car by uniformed officers. He doesn't resist. All the while, dad throws a small smile my way. In a way, he's glad to see me. Sherlock and John (finally) scream up in a taxi just as Jim drives off. 

John engulfs me in a hug, half dressed. I can feel drops of water from his wet hair. "Thank god you're safe! You are so grounded, Lune. you should've waited for us." I roll my eyes. "Yeah right. It's my dad, Jim Moriarty. You can't wait around. Plus I sent you guys a message." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw dad wink at Sherlock from the back of the police car. Lestrade approaches and nods at Sherlock and John. "You need to come." Inside, the glass case was smashed and the jewels scattered. The security footage filmed the whole thing and before Jim shattered the glass case with a piece of chewed up gum, small diamond and fire extinguisher. He wrote GET SHERLOCK.