~~~
"Play what? It's a 50:50 chance." The detective spits out stalling a little.
"You're not playing the numbers, you're playing me." The cabbie snaps back. "Did I just give you the good pill or the bad pill? Is it a bluff or a double bluff? Or a triple bluff?"
"It's still just chance." Sherlock repeats.
"Four people, in a row?" The cabbie scoffs. "It's not chance."
"Luck." Sherlock tries again.
"It's genius!" The cabbie says loudly. "I know how people think. I know how people think I think. I can see it all like a map inside my head. Everyone's so stupid, even you. Or maybe God just loves me."
"Either way, you're wasted as a cabbie." Sherlock starts. "So you risked your life four times just to kill strangers, why?" He questions.
The man avoids answering: "Time to play." He says.
"Oh, I am playing." Sherlock leans forward smirking, his free hand resting on the table. "This is my turn. There's shaving foam behind your left ear. Nobody's pointed it out to you. Traces of where it's happened before, so obviously you live on your own: there's no-one to tell you." Kat looks over to the cabbie's ear and spots what Sherlock was talking about. There was a little bit of white foam behind his ear lobe and pieces of crusty foam around it.
"I looked in your cab before I came in here," Sherlock continues on his little speech. "There's a photograph of children. The children's mother's been cut out. If she'd died, she'd still be there. The photograph's old, but the frame's new. You think of your children, but you don't get to see them. Estranged father. She took the kids, but you still love them, and it still hurts." He continues to deduce the cabbie.
"Ah, but there's more." Sherlock keeps going, unconsciously squeezing Kat's hand a little in excitement. "Your clothes. Recently laundered, but everything you're wearing is at least three years old? Keeping up appearances, but not planning ahead. And here you are on a kamikaze murder spree. What's that about?" Sherlock pauses thinking for a second before he starts again. "Ah, three years ago. Is that when they told you?"
"Told me what?" The cabbie asks with a smile already knowing Sherlock's answer.
"Oh! That you're a dead man walking." Kat realizes speaking out loud.
"So are you two." He fires back still trying to hide his past and future.
"You don't have long, though. Am I right?" Sherlock says ignoring his last comment.
The cabbie pauses giving a little sigh. "Aneurism. Right in 'ere." He points to a spot on the right side of his head. "Any breath could be my last."
"And because you're dying, you've just murdered four people." Kat asks incredulously. "That seems like the logical thing to do." She adds sarcastically.
"I've outlived four people." He corrects her ignoring her sarcasm. "That's the most fun you can have with an aneurism."
"I mean you could fly to the states and go to Disney World or something." Kat shrugs nonchalantly. "Just a thought."
Sherlock tries really hard to repress his smile at Kat's words. "No, No, there's something else." The detective says shaking his head. "You didn't just kill four people because you're bitter. Bitterness is a paralytic. Love is a, um," He pauses slightly. "Much more vicious motivator." His voice faltered as his eyes flickered over to Kat unconsciously when he said the word love. Confused at his own reaction and relieved that Kat didn't notice his minor falter, Sherlock ignored it and pushed on with his verbal attack. "Somehow, this is about your children."
"Oh, you are good, in't ya?" The cabbie smiles almost sadly.
"But how?" Sherlock asks turning his head slightly to the left because he couldn't figure it out on his own.
"When I die, they won't get much, my kids." He explains. "Not a lot of money in driving cabs." The cabbie chuckles dryly.
"Or serial killing." Kat bits sarcastically and Sherlock has to hold back another proud smile.
The cabbie smiles with all his crooked teeth, "You'd be surprised."
"Surprise us." Sherlock tells him leaning back in his chair a little.
"I have a sponsor."
Kat opens her mouth surprised. "You have a what?" She asks slightly outraged her voice going up a bit.
"For every life I take, money goes to my kids." The cabbie finishes. "The more I kill the better off they'll be. You see? It's nicer than you think." He explains with a slightly sadistic smile.
"Who'd sponsor a serial killer?" Kat asks incredulously trying to get clarification.
"Who'd be a fan of Sherlock Holmes?" The serial killer fires back. "You're not the only one to enjoy a good murder. There's others out there just like you, except you're just a man. And they're so much more than that."
"What do you mean more than a man? An organization what?" Sherlock pries.
"There's a name that no-one says. And I'm not going to say it either. Now, enough chatter. Time to choose, Kat." With that Kat's breath hitches, getting caught in her throat.
Kat is about to say something when Sherlock beats her to it. "What if I don't let her choose either? We could just walk out of here." Sherlock tells him.
"She can take a 50:50 chance, or I can shoot her in the head." He picks up the gun and points it at Kat again. "Funnily enough, no-one's ever gone for that option."
"She'll have the gun, please." Sherlock says with a smile and Kat stares at him incredulously, eyes wide open. Kat knows that she hasn't know Sherlock for very long, but damn, she thought that they were on their way to becoming friends. Now he's gonna let this psychotic man shoot her in the head.
"Are you sure?" The cabbie verifies his smile growing just slightly and only Sherlock noticed it. Kat was a little busy still wondering why Sherlock was telling the psychopathic cabbie to shoot her. Last she checked, a 50:50 chance was better than a 0:0 chance.
"Definitely." Sherlock piques up smiling. "The gun." He adds with a serious and menacing look on his face. Under the table he squeezes Kat's hand in what he hoped was a reassuring way and she squeezed back, her heart racing. The cabbie holds the barrel of the gun no more than 5 inches from her face. As Kat was staring down the barrel of the gun her vision started to blur as she is pulled into some bad memories and she shakes her head to try and be rid of them.
"You don't want to phone a friend," The cabbie tried, and Kat vaguely realized that he was staling but she couldn't figure out why. Unfortunately for her though, her mind was reeling so fast she couldn't concentrate on anything. She started breathing heavily while still trying to keep her past at bay.
"The gun." Sherlock spits out and squeezed Kat's hand again and the cabbie pulls the trigger.
~~~~~~~~~
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Kat Got Your Tongue? (Sherlock X OC) ~BOOK 1~
Fanfiction"The game, Mrs Hudson, is on!" ~~~ "Tax- ugh." Sherlock says getting cut off as another body runs into him, the other person falling to the ground. "Sorry." A female voice says as she sits up. "I'm so sorry, this was my fault, I was rushing to work...
