The Psychopath's Crown - Pt. 1
Characters: Jim Moriarty x Holmes!OC
Chapter 1: "And you're supposed to be a Holmes."
I strode into Speedy’s, the bell dinging as I swung the door open and made my way over to the table where she was already seated. By she, I mean Eve Watson. Best friend and partner in crime. Well, not quite a partner in crime considering she’s a DI. A smile tilts my lips at the thought as I sit down next to her. She says, gesturing to the waitress bringing over two drinks but not raising her eyes from the newspaper.
“I ordered what you need,
Her lips turned up ever so slightly at the sight of me.
I smile gratefully as I accept the steaming cup of chamomile. As I sip it, I remark, “I suppose I didn’t apply my concealer well enough, did I.”
She replies, turning a page of the newspaper, “I might not be a Holmes but I have picked up a few tricks. You’re clearly stressed out to an observant eye.”
I merely shrug at her words, cupping both my hands around the cup for warmth, “I do quite a lot of work. Mycroft has it worse though.”
At the mention of my elder brother she snorts, finally laying down her newspaper.
“Please. I don’t see Mycroft with dark circles under his eyes and paler than usual skin.”
I retort, placing my cup down gently just as the waitress arrived with Eve’s order, “You don’t see Mycroft at all. With good reason, placed in a room together with no supervision you two wouldn’t last a day.”
She shrugs as well, accepting the truth of what I said.
I plunge onwards, not letting her speak, “So I had a proposition.”
She arches an eyebrow and I finish, “We could move in together.”
She says monotonously, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “I wasn’t aware that our relationship had become so serious. Whatever shall I tell Greg?”
I sigh, “I found recording devices in my home and even though I dismantled them, Mycroft refuses to let me live alone and as much as I love my brother I appreciate my freedom. If I moved in with Myc, my life would be very restricted. So, as an alternative, I’d rather live with you.”
As I finish explaining she thoughtfully stirs her matcha before she says, “Well, if that’s the case then sure. I’ll have someone help with your stuff. Just don’t take my room. There’s plenty of others.”
I instinctively lean forward to hug her, forgetting the table and letting out a small “oof” as I bump into it.
She snickers, “And you’re supposed to be a Holmes.”
I roll my eyes and stand up, “You wanted me to meet someone?”
She nods, standing up as well, “My brother, John Watson. He can be a little-”
I complete her sentence, “Overwhelmingly flirtatious?”
She nods again as we exit the cafe, “My brother flirts with every single nice girl he meets. It’s weird. But he’s living with Sherl so you’ll have to get used to seeing him more often..”
I reply as we enter 221, “Oh, I know he’s living with Sherl.”
At the look she gives me I say quickly, “Mycroft’s surveillance, don’t ask. And also, how are you two related again? He’s flirtatious and you despise PDA, even between friends.”
She replies simply, “He’s my brother.”
I refrain from rolling my eyes again and instead rap on the door to 221B, “Sherlock! Open up.”
A man with short blondish hair opened the door, looking rather confused when he saw me but he seemed to realize something as his eyes darted to Eve.
“This is who you wanted me to meet?” He asks her.
She merely says, “I got her along, didn’t I?” She pushes him out of her way and goes straight to the refrigerator.
I chuckle and step in as he stands aside. He starts speaking first, “So, Eve didn’t bother to mention your name?”
I answer with a small smile, “Emberlyn. I go by Emberlyn.”
He smiles as well, “Beautiful name, beautiful woman.”
Flirtatious, indeed. He’s barely known me for five minutes. I hold back a chuckle when I realise he probably doesn’t know I’m related to his flatmate.
As if on cue, Sherlock strides in, his pale blue robe billowing as he walks, “Where’s Eve?”
I point to the kitchen, and he seems to realize I”m here, “Oh, hello sister. John, I’d recommend not flirting with her unless you want an earful from Mycroft. You might even get maimed if you’re lucky.”
Eve adds, peeking out of the kitchen, at John’s incredulous look, “Mhm. Just try not to hook up with her.”
I finally let a laugh bubble out, “I forgot to mention, My full name is actually Charlotte Emberlyn Tara Holmes. Bit of a mouthful so I go by Emberlyn.”
John continues to gape at me for a moment and before I can register anything else there’s a blast. I’m thrown off my feet and backwards almost headfirst into the fireplace. I feel a ringing in my ears as I stand up and stumble towards the kitchen, “Eve? Sherlock? Are you alright?”
Worry seeps through my voice despite myself and I see that Eve is just now getting up with a wince. Sherlock has already dusted himself off and extended an arm to help her up. She stands up with a small groan and I see red contusions on her elbows.
I murmur slightly, my ears still ringing, “That is going to bruise.”
She retorted, though her voice was still weak, “You’re one to talk with the way you’re clinging to that counter.”
I grimace and ask Sherlock, “You’re alright, yes?”
He nods swiftly, still analyzing our injuries. Confusion passes over Eve’s face as he bustles over to put the kettle on.
He explains, “Mycroft will be here soon. I’ll give it ten minutes with the commute. If it was just us it would’ve been an hour or so. Emberlyn is involved thus expediting the travel time.”
I scowl but gratefully accept the muffins he passes to Eve and I. By the time we finish the whistle of the kettle sounds throughout the house, almost in unison with the knocking on the door.
Eve hollers, “Come in Mykie.”
He answers, irritation clear in his voice as he steps in, “Good morning to you too Evangeline. No major injuries I see. Pity. A week in a hospital would have done wonders for your complexion.”
Sherlock steps forward, almost ready to engage in argument but I beat him to it, “It’s much too early in the day to beat one of my imbecilic brothers over the head with a lamp but I won’t hesitate.”
They both pause at that and Eve says, rolling up her sleeves, “I don’t have any such forebearing about beating one of them over the head with a lamp.”
I sigh exasperatedly, “Myc sit, Sher get the tea from the kitchen, Eve, you can go to another room if you can’t stand to be civilized.”
I pause and wait for them to comply, which they do. John murmurs to me, “Impressive.”
I laugh slightly, “It’s a skill.”
Eve busies herself in the kitchen, still grumbling under her breath about how she’d like to maim Mycroft, while Sherlock arrives with the tea tray, purposefully positioning it away from Mycroft. I roll my eyes at his antics but gesture for Mycroft to proceed.
*mycroft’s andrew west explanation*
Mycroft stands up and hisses, “Sherlock, this is of national importance.”
He scowls, “Then get Emberlyn to do it.”
Mycroft retorts, “Emberlyn has other work to do, especially with the Korean elections approaching. But you don’t need to know anything about that, do you?”
Sherlock lifts his violin and I sigh, dreading what was to follow. Sure enough, screeching emitted from his violin as he deliberately played off-key. I heard a crash in the kitchen accompanied by the sound of glass shattering.
I snorted and even Mycroft smirked, “Good luck brother.”
Sherlock grimaced as Eve peeked out of the kitchen, “As much as I adore torturing Mycroft, giving me a warning first would be lovely! I just shattered my favorite champagne glass.”
John said incredulously, “You don’t even live here!”
Sherlock explains, “She gave me a glass which she used whenever she came around my flat.When I moved here, I took it with me.”
I interjected, “More concerningly, why were you touching the champagne glass at 10 am. Don’t tell me you were admiring it. You’re not sentimental.”
She sulked, “Listening to Mycroft talk is deserving of a glass of champagne. Not that I ever did get to drink it.”
She glares daggers at Sherlock who winces.
I stand up and shake my head, “Well, as long as she didn’t drink any alcohol, no harm done. I’ll leave you to wipe up your champagne puddle Sherlock. Mycroft will be waiting for me down.”
He nodded, dragging his feet as he went to the kitchen, Eve still looking put out over losing her glass of liquor. John waved as I left the flat. Soon I was out on the side walk of Baker Street. I didn’t see Mycroft but a familiar black BMW rolled up to me, the back window was rolled down and Megara came into view.
“We can talk in the car.”
I complied, sliding in as she opened the door.
“So, what does Mycroft have for me today?” I ask, as the car drives off into the street and towards my flat.
She brushes a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and takes out a few folders. She hands me a sheet, “This would be your schedule for the week. I’m sure you have Ms. Watson’s permission so your things are being moved currently. We’re merely heading to your house for a last look for anything they might’ve missed. For this week you don’t have any active teams to look over. Andrew West, as you know, will be taken care of by Mr. Sherlock Holmes. In your schedule you can see your meetings for the week.”
I nod, rifling through the papers she has given me. A beautifully detailed itinerary of my week.
“Currently, Mr Holmes has only asked you to see the physician that we’ll be stopping at on the way. “
I cut her off with an incredulous look, “I only have a few bruises.”
She arches an eyebrow, “It’s about time for your monthly check up anyways.”
The vehicle comes to a stop outside the physician’s building and I grumble slightly as she marches me to the door.
I’m still scowling as we enter the vehicle again.
“Completely unnecessary.”
She allows herself a small snicker but says in a professional tone, “I almost forgot to mention the coffee I got you.”
I stare at the coffee and then at her, “Is this supposed to be the adult version of giving a child a lollipop after a doctor visit?”
Though she shrugs her eyes sparkle with mischief and I accept it with a sigh.
She continues her briefing from where we left off, “Mr. Holmes, only wishes for you to rest up today. Your main assignment this week would be researching one of our high profile potential criminals.”
She delicately hands me a rather thin file. I flip through its meager two pages with surprise, “This is all we have?”
She nods, “Precisely, why he wants you to investigate further I presume. And, you didn’t hear this from me but he probably would also like you to lay off the legwork for a while.”
I grumble at her words but I’m more pre-occupied with the file before me. Attached it a clear cut photograph of the man and I find myself mildly amused as he seems to be striking a pose despite the photograph clearly being taken by a security camera.
“James Elwin Moriarty.” I murmur the name to myself, taken aback by how soft it sounds. So gentle and distinguished. Rather contrasting to the number of illegal deeds he has been suspected of being an accomplice in. Suspected being the key word there. He was rather thorough and careful. A puzzle indeed. Despite having much information about his suspected crimes there was little to none personal information. Education, childhood, parents, family. As if he was nobody. I suppose that’s what Mycroft wanted me to investigate.
Everyone has a weakness Charlotte, if you find it, they’re yours.
His words ring in my ear. Precious but cold-hearted advice which he gave in my first years at the secret service. Before I was a famed interrogator there. I closed the file and leaned back, closing my eyes.
“Thank you, Megara. I think I’ll take my brother’s advice and take a short nap. Tell me when we arrive.”
