The Baker Street Cafe (Moriarty/Reader)
Moriarty loved watching his prey. He had many spies and assassins that he could have called to watch Sherlock but every once in a while he would go spy on the detective himself. He found Sherlock interesting in a way that he never found any of the other people he toyed with. Sherlock’s brother, Mycroft, was just as smart as him but not nearly as interesting.
Moriarty stood across the busy street from where Sherlock and John were discussing a case. It was not too far from Baker Street, but it had just enough people walking around that Moriarty could blend in. By the looks of things, Sherlock had just realized who the killer was and he was on his way to stop the suspect from comiting the next murder. Sherlock was so busy explaining how he solved the case to John, that neither of them noticed Moriarty standing in the shadow of a tree watching them. Moriarty smirked. Just as he had suspected, Sherlock had solved the puzzle he had laid out for him.
Sherlock quickly waved his hand for a cab. John and Sherlock got in and the cab drove away. They were on their way to stop the madman that was one of Moriarty’s clients. Personally, Morirarty was starting to get bored with that man, so he couldn’t care less if his client died. The ideal situation would be for his client to kill Sherlock and John, but Moriarty knew the detective would find a way to avoid getting killed. His client was not skilled enough to defeat Mr. Holmes. No. Only Moriarty was cunning enough to defeat the consulting detective. He smiled to himself at the thought. Having finished watching Sherlock and John for the day, Moriarty decided to stop by the nearest cafe to grab a coffee.Â
The cafe was full, but Morirarty was in a good mood and was willing to wait. He had a long morning. Three meetings with various terrorist cells, ordering the torture of two people to gain information, and a good hour of reviewing paperwork of the illegally transferred money that entered into his Swedish bank account. Once Morirarty got his coffee, he looked around for a seat. Might as well call it a day, he thought. He saw a girl sitting with her laptop at a table by herself. There was something about her that he couldn’t put his finger on. She looked familiar, but he was sure he had not met her before. He walked over to the table.
“May I sit here? There are no other open tables,” he said with a smile. Moriarty had to remind himself that he was not a consulting criminal right now, but that he was suppose to act like a regular person.
“Sure,” you said with a smile. You went back to typing your report.
Moriarty sipped his coffee and made a quick glance at you when he was sure you were not looking. He took in as many details as he could about your appearance.Â
Hmmm… Around y/age. Y/ethnicity. Slightly above average intelligence but nothing to write home about. Been to a few different countries. A perfectionist. Likes to swim. Likes to read. She appears to be ordinary, Moriarty thought to himself. But he still could not figure out why you looked so familiar.
“My name is Jim,” he found himself saying.
“My name is y/n,” you said with a small smile.
“Nice to meet you, y/n. What brings you to this busy cafe?”
“I just wanted some fresh air. You know… get out of the house a little,” you said.
“I completely understand. Things can get boring,” he said with honesty.
Just then your phone rang. You looked at the screen and smiled.Â
“I’m sorry, but I have to go” you say as you close your laptop and get up from your seat. “It was nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” said Moriarty. He was surprised to find himself feeling slightly disappointed as he watched you walked away.