Hello Detective

The Reichenbach Fall Part 1

I sat in Sherlock's flat the day after the press conference as he read the paper. The headline: Boffin Sherlock Solves Another.

"Boffin. Boffin Sherlock Holmes!" Sherlock grumbled, throwing the paper down onto his desk.

"Everybody gets one." I told him from John's chair.

"One what?" He asked.

"Tabloid nickname. Don't worry I'll probably get one soon." I laughed as he paced the floor in front of me in his dressing gown.

"Page five, column six, first sentence." Sherlock said, throwing his paper to me. I grabbed it and opened it to the instructed page.

"Why is it always the hat photograph?" He said, punching the hat.

"American Beauty Adelaide Gregson. Flattering." I read on as Sherlock fiddled with his hat.

"It is a cap? Why has it got two fronts?" He rambled.

"It's a deerstalker." I said, looking up from the paper. "Holmes has been unofficially romantically linked to American beauty, Sergeant Adelaide Gregson. Further proof of the power couple can be seen in the blog of John Watson–"

"How do you stalk a deer with a hat? What am I going to do, throw it? Is it like some sort of death Frisbee?" Sherlock muttered.

"We need to be more careful." I said, though I doubted Sherlock was listening.

"It's got flaps. Ear flaps. It's an ear hat, Adelaide." Sherlock threw the hat to me and I caught it.

"What do you mean, more careful?" Sherlock asked.

"I mean, this isn't a deerstalker now. It's a Sherlock Holmes hat. I mean that you're not exactly a private detective anymore. You're basically famous." I told him.

"Oh, it'll pass." Sherlock sighed and sat in his chair opposite from me.

"It better pass. The press will turn, Sherlock. They always turn, and they'll turn on you." I nagged him.

"It really bothers you?" Sherlock asked.

"What?" I wondered.

"What people say about me. I don't understand. Why would it upset you?" Sherlock asked, genuinely confused.

"Because I love you, you idiot, that's why. Just try to keep a low profile. Find yourself a little case this week, stay out of the news." I put the deerstalker down, and gathered my stuff to go to work.

After the deerstalker ordeal it had seemed that there was a lull between cases, so I had scheduled an appointment with a local OB-GYN. I was going to go on my lunch break today. That was before I got the call. I was sitting at my desk at Scotland Yard, waiting nervously for my lunch break when my desk phone rang. My eyes opened wide when I heard the news. I marched into Lestrade's office.

"Sir, there's been a break-in." I told him.

"Not our division." He said, with his feet up on his desk and a donut in his hand.

"You'll want it." I smiled.

I rushed to the car where Lestrade began to drive to the Tower of London.

"Hacked into the Tower of bloody London's security? How?" Lestrade yelled, and my phone rang again.

"Tell them we're already on our way." Lestrade said.

"There's been another one. Another break-in." Lestrade shook his head in disbelief. "Bank of England."

My phone rang again.

"Where is it now?" Lestrade asked.

"Pentonville Prison." I said.

"Oh, no!" Lestrade groaned.

Lestrade's car screeched to a halt in front of the tower, sirens blaring.

Once inside, we found Jim Moriarty wearing the Crown Jewels, sitting on the throne. Shattered glass scattered the floor all around him. Needless to say, I missed your doctor's appointment.

Once Moriarty was in custody, I called Sherlock. He knew something was wrong just by the fact that I called, we usually just texted or met in person.

Lestrade, Sherlock, and I all stood around the CCTV screen, watching Moriarty from minutes before.

"That glass is tougher than anything..." Lestrade said.

"Not tougher than crystallised carbon." Sherlock remarked.

"He used a diamond." I gathered.

Lestrade reversed the film until it showed what Moriarty had written on the glass moments before smashing it. 'GET SHERLOCK'

My phone suddenly vibrated with a text and I stepped away from Lestrade and Sherlock. I unlocked my phone and my eyes grew wide.

Don't think I've forgotten about you, Addie. Sherlock may be oblivious but I'm not. -JM

Attached was a photo of me buying a pregnancy test.

I could feel Sherlock's eyes on me.

"What is it?" He asked, curiously and demandingly.

"Nothing." I replied, shoving my phone back in my pocket and turning my attention back to the CCTV feed. Deep down I was terrified. James Moriarty was not someone to take lightly, he might not like to get his hands dirty but he sure doesn't mind calling the shots and racking up a body count.

Sherlock's eyes were still on me, but I acted as if nothing had happened. I was living in denial, but leave it to Jim Moriarty to remind me. A small part of me didn't believe I was pregnant, but a larger part knew it was true but wasn't ready to face it.