Anthea

Fire

Mycroft titled his head to the side when he got in the back with her. “How will you be useless to me?” he asked. “You’re close to one of the Holmes boys. You know his deep and dark secrets.” He pouted a little, almost looking sorry for her.

"You will be very useful to me."

He put on his seat belt and leaned over to the driver. “Pick Moran up, quickly.”

"Even if I knew anything that could be of importance to you, I wouldn't tell you," she replied. She tried to find the right moment to go for her phone. If she could just get it locked, that would be good enough for now.

When the car started to drive she looked out of the window quickly, still aware that they might get shot at, even though the fire brigade had arrived and was working to tame the flames. They stopped only a moment later so Moran could get in the front of the car. Well, at least now she could put face to name. Sort of.

"Where're we going?" she asked, looking at Moriarty.

#fire

catnip-witch

Visit Original Link

Bones - MS MR

#playlist

Fire

"You don’t have a say in that," Jim answered her. "If you don’t come with me, you might just get shot in the head," he said. "With these snipers around, so might the fire brigade."

He grabbed hold of her upper arm, of her good arm, and pulled her along to the right exit. The air was thick, but fire hadn’t quite spread there and when the car was there, he pulled the door open. He didn’t wait, because if he would they’d know what exit he was coming out of and have a clear aim. Like this they’d have to pinpoint them and get a clear shot.

He pulled her along and dived behind the car first. “Make your way down,” he told Sebastian. If they were lucky, they could get him in this car too. He began to push Anthea into the car.

The problem was that even if she'd run now there was no knowing where she might end up and right now Moriarty's car seemed a whole better option than dead on the pavement after being shot by one of these snipers. Either way, she was in trouble, but she ended up complying.

"You know I'll be useless to you," she replied. It wasn't entirely true, because he had the phone and she had no way to wipe it if Mycroft didn't know. She'd alerted him of a problem, but he had no way of contacting her... It really did not look good.

sorrowandbirthdaycake

ʙʙᴄ sʜᴇʀʟᴏᴄᴋ ʀᴘ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

Click here to view the shiny and new masterlist and bask in its glory. ;)

Want on too? Reblog what applies to you here or message me!

{ signal boosts are appreciated }

#rp masterlist

The Other One...?

Mycroft scrolled back through the conversation, which he mainly found rather silly and he didn’t see any pattern in it that could show a clue, so was this chance? It couldn’t possibly be. That was his little brother, it had to be. But… how?

He tried to tell himself he must just look a lot like him, but he couldn’t convince himself of that. “Find out where the texts are coming from. Get me the address.” He handed the phone back, moving his hand over his face. He felt shocked and he wasn’t too sure what he was supposed to do now. “Make it quick.”

#the other one...#[ ohhhhh man ]

Usually she'd do what Mycroft had asked her to, if only because it's what she was hired to do. But she knew when not to listen and now was definitely such a moment.

"You recognize him," she stated. That was the only reason she could find for his reaction. "Who is he?" She was quite used to not recognizing faces herself. She'd been suffering that all her life. It's why Mycroft's umbrella came in handy. But she was pretty sure that a stranger would not have taunted her with something he couldn't know. Unless it wasn't a stranger.

"I'll run a check on the phone number," she said, setting to work on doing so, but not about to let Mycroft walk off without having answered her question.

The Other One...?

Mycroft had spent a lot of time behind his computer, trying to get a hold of several classified files and when he was finished, he got up to make tea. Yes, he was going to make tea. He wanted to stretch his legs.

He got up, walking past Anthea, who was as usual on her phone. He looked the screen over, like he would normally do. Nothing on there was secret to him and he liked to know what was going on. What he saw, however, was not something he was planning on seeing.

He didn’t look up to the fact that she was texting and not working, because something much more significant was visible on her screen, something that made his heat skip a beat, something that made his body fill with worry, confusion and a pang of hope. It was a highly unusual feeling. He swallowed hard and took the phone from Anthea’s hands, pressing on the picture to see it bigger.

”Where did you get this?” He even heard a slight tremble in his voice. It was silly, but it was provoked by this unusual picture. It was of his little brother, he was quite sure. Not Sherlock, no… It was a photograph of Sherrinford, the brother who had died long ago. So if that was true, where did this photograph come from?

Anthea frowned when her phone was pulled away from her. Mycroft was known to be rude and rather insensitive, but he would usually know better than to take her phone like that. She was about to tell him he could've asked, when he asked a question that made her frown even more. She was talking to a stranger, who'd sent her a picture, so what could possibly be significant about the deed? But it wasn't that which caused her to frown, it was the tone in his voice.

"You can read the conversation," Anthea replied. "It's just someone who got the wrong number." At least, that's what he'd said. "Or maybe not..."

#the other one...#;;

Fire

"What of the snipers?" Jim asked, putting his own gun back in his jacket, while keeping hold of the new one. "Turn him over, get his ID," he ordered. He would have done it himself if he could kneel down without it being excruciating.

He looked up at the ceiling. “I need clearance on one of the exists. When you’ve located the best one, alert the driver to come and get us.” Yes, us. He wasn’t going to leave Anthea behind. She could be useful.

She couldn't properly move herself, with her painful arm, but she did as he asked to get it over with. Not that she'd hand the ID over. Not yet, anyway.

"I'm not leaving with you," she clarified, not too sure whether she could change the plan. For now, it was still most important that she got out of here at all.

New instructions came on where best to exit the building, if the fire permitted them to go that way. "The fire brigade is here," she said, when hearing sirens come near.

ppelicansarchive-blog-deactivat

write more ships involving asexual characters

and write those ships where the sexual half decides to not have sex for their asexual partner

not where the asexual partner decides to have sex for their sexual partner

#psa #signal boost

Fire

When he got the man gunned down, he moved closer as quickly as he could, biting through the pain. “Keep him down.” He grabbed his gun from the floor, both to make his next move and to stop Anthea from taking it.

With the intruder on the floor, he stepped towards him, practically standing next to him and with the intruder’s own gun, he aimed at his head and didn’t wait a single second to shoot.

"Any more coming?"

#thespidermoriarty #fire #[ super badassery ]

"No, he was the only clever one... Or stupid one, as it turns out," Moran replied.

They had been playing with each other as well as against each other, but now that the clear had been given they no longer had a reason to get along.

She looked at the guns he was holding and didn't make a move. "We have to get out," she said, looking up at the ceiling again. It would come down any moment, but she knew better than to go for the door. She didn't want to be the next with a bullet through her head.

[ anthea is so fucking hot pass it on ]

#true #outofbatterypower

Fire

Jim prepared himself, holding the gun firmly. He breathed in, keeping his eyes and ears sharp.

He looked at Anthea, giving her a nod to check whether she was ready— not that they had a choice— before looking back at the door, which swung open only a moment later.

Jim wasted no time and opened fire instantly, when the man was in view, going straight for the chest.

Anthea stayed back so Moriarty had a clear shot, but she was preparing to kick the intruder to the ground should the shot not instantly kill him. Jim Moriarty really didn't like to get his hands dirty, did he? For someone who got himself into tricky situations all the time, he'd hardly ever held a gun, apparently...

At least a shot from this distance was hard to miss and when he fell to the ground accompanied with a loud scream, Anthea moved forward to kick the weapon out of the intruder's hands and out of reach.

Fire

Jim’s heart was racing as he moved to the other side of the doorframe of the emergency staircase, looking at the door. He had the gun raised, ready to shoot whoever was coming in, when a loud crash sounded above them, indicating that probably an entire floor had just collapsed. Dust was even coming down through this ceiling. He eyed Anthea.

"Tell me when," he spoke in the direction of the phone.

Anthea had looked up at the ceiling too and she was starting to worry how long they could stay here before being buried in rubble after all. She looked back at Moriarty for a moment, wondering just how much she could trust him right now. Sure, he wasn't pointing the gun at her, but he might do after he'd found a way out...

The voice over the phone distracted her from that thought and forced her to prepare for the danger at hand. "He's almost there... Five seconds."

Fire

"Don’t expose your location," Jim replied and he looked at Anthea, before looking at the phone. He slipped it into his inside jacket pocket. "Can you still hear me like this?" He hoped Anthea wouldn’t try to take it off him.

He moved his hand inside his jacket and he grabbed a handgun, immediately taking the safety off. “What entrance is he heading for?” He wasn’t counting on this at all and he really hoped Sebastian could manage to gun him down before Jim had to. These were trained shots and Jim only knew the basics of it. And he was wounded. He hoped this would end well…

"Can still hear you," the reply came. "And he's heading to your exit."

Anthea would have attempted to take the phone from him if he hadn't just pulled a gun. She sneered softly, but had to use her left arm to hold her right again, while she moved closer to the wall next to the door, where she wouldn't be seen immediately if the door opened. At least that way she could sell whoever was coming their way a good kick or two, if necessary.

Mycroft had to think about that. “My political alignment doesn’t quite fit in anywhere, but I must say I’m definitely not conservative. If I would have a bigger interest in the people of the nation, I would support the liberal democrats. In truth, I’m too focused on people of importance to pay much mind to the citizens of the United Kingdom.”

If it were up to him, he would probably create a whole new political branch.

#open file #[ Great yes :) ]#[ I'm glad you like it ]

>>> accessing memory

"Very innovative."

incoming phone call "Unknown number, sir. What would you like to do?"

checking mail "You have received a mail at eight thirty this morning, concerning business with Mr. Thomson. He says he would contact you as soon as time permit. It might be him."

Fire

Jim kept the phone with him, his eyebrows raised. “Yes. That’s exactly why I’m keeping this.” His phone still wouldn’t be working and it would take a while before it did. “Don’t try to fight me for it, I will hurt you.” He looked at her with warning in his eyes.

"Moran," he started. "Any clearance? We need to be gone and untraceable before the fire brigade gets here."

Her phone had a lock down switch, which she would usually use when someone threatened to take her phone from her. But he was holding it with all content unlocked now... And she had no way of alerting Mycroft to wipe drive from his computer.

Her eyes narrowed. "You'd be dead if it wasn't for me. Give me that phone."

"Stop bickering," the voice over the phone said. "Someone's coming your way. Armed. I can't get a clear shot, he's moving too fast."

Mycroft viewed what was being shown on the screen and for a moment he was stuck watching the bars moving up and down as the voice spoke.

It was amazing how it was an organic voice, as if a woman stood in the room now, speaking to him, but it was not. The woman wasn’t a woman at all. It was his computer.

That was very typical, wasn’t it? “I prefer to leave your voice how it is,” Mycroft replied. “What is your knowledge on politics?”