The Detectives Daughter

Chapter 21: The Great Game: The Pool

~Brooke's POV ~

"Brought you a little getting- to- know- you present," Dad said as he walked further into the room. He saw my jacket onthe floor then ran towards it, he picked it up then examined it; He knew it was mine. "Brooke?"

I looked at up at Moriarty, he was smiling like a mad man at my Dad's worried face. I wanted to go out to my Dad, tell him I was okay... but that wasn't an option. Suddenly another door opened and John walked out of it. He was wearing a large over coat and under that is the bomb that 'I' helped put together.

"Evening," John greeted. "This is a turn up, isn't it Sherlock?"

"John what the hell... where's Brooke?" Dad mumbled.

Dad looked confused about the situation...

"Bet you never say this coming," John continued. "What would... you like me... to make him say... next?" John then opened up the coat and showed Dad the bomb. "Gottel o' gear, gottel o' gear."

"Stop it, Where is my daughter?" Dad interrupted.

"Nice touch this, the pool. Where little Carl died. I stopped him. I can stop John Watson too... stop his heart," John said shakily.

I felt sick to my stomach at the words John was made to say.

"WHERE IS BROOKE?" Dad yelled.

Moriarty laughed lightly then took my hand in his. He smirked at me.

"Show time," He chuckled. "I gave you my number, I thought you might call," Moriarty pulled me out to see Dad and John.

"Brooke?" Dad whispered.

Jim's hand clenched around my shirt tightly and made me walk with him; I couldn't even look at my dad.

"Is that a British Army browning L9A1 in your pocket? Or are you just glad to see me?" Moriarty asked.

Argh Jim was flirting with my Dad... Nasty!

"Both," Dad replied as he pulled out the gun and aimed it at Moriarty.

"Jim Moriarty. HI," He greeted Dad. Moriarty tugged my shirt, we walked around the pool getting closer to John and my Dad. "Jim? Jim from the hospital? Huh, did I really make such a fleeting impression? Though I suppose, that was rather the point."

Dad glanced at the red dot on John then back at Jim. He looked confused.

"Don't be silly someone else is holding the rifle, I don't like getting my hands dirty... right Brooke?" Moriarty glanced at me then looked back at Dad. I bit my lip, I remembered what I did a few moments ago. "I've given you a tiny glimpse, Sherlock, just a tiny teensy glimpse, of what I've got going on out there in the big bad world. I'm a specialist, you see. Like you."

"Dear Jim, please fix it for me, to get rid of my lovers nasty sister? Dear Jim, please will you fix it for me, to disappear to South America?" Dad listed.

Moriarty's grip tightened around my shirt. "Just so," Moriarty smirked.

"Consulting Criminal, brilliant," Dad commented.

"Isn't it? No one ever gets to me, and no one ever will," Moriarty told him.

"We did," Dad glanced at me then back to Moriarty.

I looked everywhere but Dad's eyes.

"You've come the closest. Now you're in my way," Moriarty retorted.

"Thank you," Dad told him.

"I didn't mean it was a compliment," Moriarty defended.

"Yeah you did," Dad argued with a little smirk playing on his lips.