Weakness Of The Heart { A BBC Sherlock Fan-Fiction }

<7> The Start Of The Chase

Several people walked around the dull colored halls, they all had vapid expressions, with deep stress lines on them. Jareth wonder what cases they were working on, how long they had been in the job, the first time they saw a dead body - if they ever had - why they went with this field of work in the first place. He had some many questions that he knew he would never ask, some times he wondered if journalism wouldn't have been a better occupancy for him. He glanced down at his watch and wondered how much longer he would have to wait around for someone to get back to him about his meeting. Sherlock had sent him here to talk to a DI about his sister and Moriarty.

He looked down the hallway, at the door he would be, hopefully, be heading into soon. He took a few steps down the hall and sat down in a chair. He soon noticed from where he was sitting, that he could hear some voices coming from the DI's office. despite himself he leaned a little closer to listen. At first he couldn't under stand much, but then he heard a male voice speaking much clearer then the last one had been.

'Are you kidding me? The nerve of that man, how much has he wreaked your life already?' Jareth wondered who they were talking about and if he might need to stop listening, now that he knew it might be personal. The smaller voice that Jareth guessed was a woman spoke in a much more calm voice, but quite enough that he couldn't understand her, but he heard the man scoff. 'It is in no way his place! Thea... you need to stand up to that man, you need-' 'Stop!' Jareth heard the women snap at him. She said something else quickly, before he heard the sounds of heels moving across hard floor.

He didn't understand anything else that said after that cause there voices fell quieter after that. The sound of heels moved towards the door and it was pulled open. A rather pretty women in a very professional looking suit was standing in the door, her curly brown hair was down and in large curls. She glanced at Jareth and inclined her head. "Pardon me." she said as she passed by him, glancing back at the grey haired man standing in the door and waving a little.

As soon as she was out of sight, Jareth stood up and faced the detective in front of him, who extended his hand. "Hi, Detective Inspector Lestrade, what can I do for you?" he queered and lead Jareth into his office.

"Sherlock sent me here, said that we should talk about the case I'm hiring him for," Jareth didn't want to bring too many people in on this case and was wondering how much detail he could remove while explaining it to Lestrade. Jareth looked around the room a bit, it was a simple grey office, with a few personal thing here and there, it reminded like a place that someone would be ready to pick up and leave at any point, but still wanted it to feel comfortable.

Lestrade sat forwards in his chair, "Of course he did, what did you hire him for?" he asked Jareth and took a drink of his coffee.

"To find my sisters killer." he said, leaning back in his chair and watching the gray haired man in seated in front of him. "She died seven months ago and the cops over there labeled her file 'unsolved' and forgot about it after two months," he sighed, he had remembered how angry he had been at the officers when they told him this. "I know that it seems like a bit of a list cause, but I just want you guys to find James Moriarty."

Lestrade seemed to listen more intently after the name Moriarty was mentioned, he nodded and got up from his overused office chair, making his way over to a metal file cabinet on the other wall, pulling out a surprisingly thin file with Moriarty, James on the label.

He sat down and flopped the file open in front of him. "So, you think that this man killed your sister, the man that stole the Crown Jewels, killed a women in America?" The look he got from the detective told him that he wasn't even close to believing him.

"Canada." Jareth stated, he was used to being called American, surprisingly most of the time it was by Canadians.

"Right," nodding, Lestrade added. "I'm sorry, but I just can't see that happening, I mean... Moriarty killed your sister, why would he do that?" Suddenly not feeling very confidant, Jareth shrugged lightly.

"I know it doesn't sound very realistic," he tapped his fingers along the desk edge as he watched Lestrade's face as he thought over some stuff. "But I know that this man killed Dani, I know it."

"How?" said Lestrade said suddenly, it almost caught Jareth by surprise. He thought back as to why he had been so positive that Moriarty had been her killer. Maybe it had been the strange looks he got from him every time he had been in the room? Maybe it was that he never really saw any true emotions of love in his eyes when he had been talking to Danielle? He wasn't sure what it was, but he was sure that nothing could sway him in his opinion on the matter, to him it was fact, Jim Moriarty was his sisters killer.

He exhaled a puff of air as he leaned on the desk. "I have no proof, but I know it was him, Dani said that it never seemed real, that he always wanted to spend time around strange people, that she hardly knew," he frowned to himself, that part had always seemed strange to him. "But she said they were kinda influential like people."

The salt and pepper haired man made some noted on his paper. "Like?"

"Ah, like a mayor she is- ...was friends with, a few scientist coworkers, lawyer, banker, cops and just people like that," his chest felt tight in anger towards Moriarty, who had even spent a strange amount of time around him, even as the brother of his girlfriend. "People with power, in one way or another, at first I thought he was just trying to be nice, that maybe he thought they were he friend, but then it just got a little strange."

Jareth shook his head and looked up. "Sorry, I talk to much, sometimes," he leaning back in his chair again and redirecting his attention, which strayed easily, to convincing Lestrade to help him on the case. "Sherlock said that we needed your help."

Lestrade laughed a little. "No, he says that, but he needs my resources, not my help," he shook, Sherlock and dragged him and Molly Hooper into one to many cases, claiming that he 'needed their help'. "But I'm in, but not for Sherlock, for you."

Jareth frowned and shrugged. "Why?" he was very glad that his man was helping but he didn't understand the point of what he was saying.

"I've been where you are and trust me, you want this whole thing to be over as soon as possible, cause you'll never really live it we don't end it," Greg Lestrade threw on his suit coat and pointed towars the door. "Lets go talk to Sherlock, come on."

- - - - -

A woman was standing on the steps outside of 221B, her black hair was set in a braid down her back, she had her hand on the door of the small building, looking like she would open the door at any moment. She could hear the voice of the person she wanted to see coming from the window upstairs, making it all the harder for her to turn around and walk back to her apartment across the road, but she wasn't ready to talk to Mary yet. She had to wait, but she knew he was on to her. The detective was coming, and he was coming for her.

- - -

Hello! I know it has been a while since the last update, but I hope you like this one. :) you will meet that black haired woman soon, don't worry, hehe.

~ Mars

Next part on the 21st