Dancing with the Devil // Jim Moriarty

•Chapter 2: Criminals and Cookies•

"Comfortable, darling?"

Startled, I instantly closed the laptop, eyes snapping towards the intruder. Why hadn't I noticed something was off? Damnit, I was getting too comfortable. Out of practice.

A man I'd never seen before emerged from the kitchen, carrying two mugs of steaming tea in his hands. His bright smile was teasing but his dark brown eyes lacked any emotion. He was extremely pale with black hair which was gelled back and a slight stubble. He appeared to be standing a couple of inches below Sherlock's height and was likely around his age as well.

I couldn't deny that he was handsome, especially with his dark blue suit. Undoubtedly Westwood. This man screamed rich and powerful.

And he had broken into my home unnoticed. In fact, he was acting like he owned this place.

A part of me was relieved he was indeed a stranger to me. That meant he wasn't here for me. At least not primarily. No need to worry, you're still safe here, Lilliana. They haven't managed to find you in eight years and they wouldn't do so now. Not ever. Mycroft had promised that.

Heartbeat slowing down again, I calmly placed my laptop back on the coffee table. I didn't have to be a genius to guess who exactly this was. Really, from every little detail both John and Sherlock had told me, I immediately had a name running through my mind.

The sudden satisfied glint in his eyes told me he saw the flash of recognization on my face.

If he was here himself, he won't hurt me. At least for now. No need for fear. People like him thrived in fear.

Lips pulling into a smile, I leaned back in the chair, my fingers tapping against the armrests. "So I finally get to meet the infamous man Sherlock can't stop thinking about."

Moriarty raised his eyebrows, now full on grinning as he stalked closer, like a hunter and its prey. My eyes followed his every move until he was in front of me, holding out one of the teacups. Why was he here? He must have known Sherlock wasn't home. "And you are the mysterious woman I don't know anything about."

As you should.

Accepting the tea, I carefully balanced the cup in my hands and enjoyed the steam warming my face. "No need to change that." Slowly sipping the hot beverage, my eyes stayed locked on him, watching him copy my movements as he got comfortable in John's chair.

Moriarty clicked his tongue, his blank gaze wandering over every inch of me, like he was trying to burn every single cell of me into his brain. I couldn't help but shiver under his intrusive stare.

"Don't you think it's unfair you know so much about me and I know so little about Sherlock's new pet?" Then, he tilted his head to the side, his smile gone and creases forming on his forehead. "Then again, you're not new. No, you've known the Holmes brothers far longer than the doctor."

Pet. Seriously? Annoyance seeped into my expression. "Is that all you know about me?" I asked and took another sip of the, unfortunately, very delicious tea. Rooibos-caramel, my favorite. Proof that he was definitely keeping a very watchful eye on this flat and everyone inside of it at all times. Probably multiple pairs of eyes. And cameras. I wondered how many snipers were ready to shoot me now should I try anything to put their boss at danger. Not that I'd ever even think about trying. No, I valued my life a little too much for that.

Moriarty chuckled and carefully placed his cup of tea on the small coffee table. Shaking his head a couple of times, he leaned forwards, effectively minimizing the distance between us as much as he  could whilst sitting down. There was an excited glimmer in his eyes that for once wasn't directed at Sherlock. "Oh, what I would like to know about you, darling, is why you've got both Sherlock brothers wrapped around your finger."