BBC Sherlock Imagines

Moriarty: Side of the Angels (Part 1)

Request for Marriedtomyfandoms

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"It's really dark in here."

"And cold."

"You should've brought a coat."

"Well you should've brought an extra flashlight!"

"Will you two shut up?!" erupted Sherlock. His voice echoed through the building, bouncing off the walls and back to where they stood.

"Oh yeah, we're the ones who need to be quiet," you muttered.

"I didn't bring you on this case because I wanted attitude (y/n), I brought you because-"

"Because you saw me driving down the street and you ran in front of my car to stop me and then pushed me into the passenger seat then started driving. I didn't ask to be here, I was forced to be," you spat back. It was safe to say you were a little heated about being dragged on a case with these two adrenaline junkies. Not that you didn't adore them, but you much more preferred hearing about the cases with a nice cuppa in hand and safely nestled behind locked doors. You knew all about the boys' cases and the crazy people they dealt with; you really did not want to be apart of it.

"You could've waited in the car," suggested Sherlock. He was sweeping his flashlight back and forth as they walked deeper into the building.

"I'd rather take my chances in here with you guys."

"Are you sure about that princess?" came a tenor voice from above. The three of you froze and Sherlock shone his flashlight towards the ceiling, but it was too far away and the light lost itself in the dark. Then a low buzz came off from somewhere to the left, and slowly lights began to turn on around three of you. You shielded your eyes, the light becoming too overwhelming after being in the dark for that long. "Sorry about that," came the voice again. "I was a little late to greet you at the door. But no worries, the party shall go on as is." An evil laugh sounded and a shiver ran through the length of your body. Sherlock looked furious and his eyes searched every inch of the building. Now with the lights on you could see it was an old post office, and a very big one. Conveyor belts ran around with different sorting stations and such here and there.

"Who the hell has a party in an abandoned post office?" you breathed, looking around with wide eyes.

"Jim Moriarty." The three of you jumped, the voice surprising you from behind. He definitely wasn't what you were expecting. Oh sure you had heard all the stories about him from Sherlock, but never once did he talk about his wild hair, how good he looked in a suit, or his crazy brown eyes that were so easy to get stuck in. "That's me by the way," he said, smiling and walking closer, eventually getting so close that he reached out his hand for you to shake. You looked at his hand and took deep calming breaths. This psychopathic murderer wanted to shake your hand. If you didn't, he'd probably kill you, but if you did, well he probably would still kill you. The outcome seemed the same, so you were left to wonder if his hands were clean enough to shake - there must be a lot of blood on them right? "Has Sherlock here not taught you any manners? Shake my hand," he ordered. His face had grown very serious all of a sudden and his voice had taken on a tone of anger. You reached for his hand without thinking and silently prayed he had washed them right before. "That's better," he grinned, letting out a pleasing sigh. "And how are you Sherlock?" He released your hand and you ran back to Sherlock, trying to stay out of view by hiding behind his coat.