Dark Secrets (Sherlock x Reader)

The Game Is On

Sherlock grabbed your hand, standing next to you. ''I won't let him do anything to you. If you need a break, tell me and we will.''

You nodded. ''Let's just get this over with. We'll probably be here all day.''

The door opened with a small squeak.

Immediately, Moran looked up at you, a menacing grin forming on his face. ''Took you long enough. I've been waiting.''

''You follow our agenda now, Moran. Not your own,'' you calmly responded, sitting down across from him.

''I see you brought your lap dogs with you today. I can't say I'm surprised to see back up, although I'm disappointed. I would've loved to chat more. Just you and me.'' He leaned forward, his cuffs jangling.

''What is it that you want from me? Why did you spare my life yet again? You could've killed me on two occasions now and you didn't.''

''So full of stupid questions. You already know the answer, why ask?''

''I do know the answer, but it doesn't satisfy me. Moriarty wants something of me and I need to know what.''

He smirked. ''Do you feel unsatisfied often?'' He glanced at Sherlock.

The detective stood up straighter, scowling at the cuffed man. ''We're not here for your pitiful games and taunts. We're here for information and you will give it to us.''

''Or what? You'll kill me?'' he scoffed. ''Go ahead if you'd like. I won't stop you.''

''What is Moriarty's plan?'' you confronted him.

He leaned back in his chair, grinning at you as he kept quiet.

You slammed the files onto the metal table. ''Fine! You won't talk, that's fine. We'll figure it out on our own!''

''No, you won't,'' he taunted.

Sherlock leapt forward, grabbing Sebastian by the collar, their faces only inches apart. ''You're pathetic,'' he growled. ''You're nothing more than a marionette carrying out your boss' orders. You don't even know what he's up to, do you?''

The sniper bared his teeth. ''Maybe I do, maybe I don't. It doesn't matter. All that matters is the game.''

''What game is Moriarty playing? What is his next step?'' you demanded.

He turned his head, capturing your gaze. ''I'm so glad you asked, princess.'' He shook Sherlock off him. ''The cuffs, please?''

Lestrade stared at him, a baffled look on his face. ''I beg your pardon?''

''The cuffs. Take them off and I'll gladly give you a clue.''

''What are you playing at, Moran?'' Sherlock hissed.

With his wrists still cuffed to the table, he leaned forward, slowly reaching up his shirt. He sat up again. This time, holding a phone with a pink case in his hands. ''Remember this, Sherlock?''

''Oi! How did you sneak that in here?'' Lestrade called out, his face reddening.

He ignored him. ''You do remember, don't you, Sherlock? It was a while ago, but you remember.''

''The cab driver,'' the detective answered. ''The one who poisoned people with pills. He mentioned your boss' name before he died. That's the phone of one of his victims. Well, a replica of it. I doubt it's the same one.''

''Jim knew you'd remember. He's kept an eye on you two and he has finally decided that it's time.''

''Time for what?'' you asked.

''The next phase of the game.''

Hesitantly, you reached over and took the phone. You turned it on, immediately receiving a voice alert.

''You have one new message,'' the robotic voice spoke.

You looked at Sherlock for a brief moment. He nodded at you and you played the message.

Four short pips.

One longer one.

''What are we supposed to make of that? The bloody Greenwich pips!'' Lestrade called out.

''It's a warning,'' Sherlock said softly. ''Some secret societies used to send people dried orange seeds. It's a warning that something is going to happen soon.''

You grabbed Sherlock's arm, claiming his attention. ''There's a photo saved to the phone.'' You clicked on it and gasped.

Sherlock briefly closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He felt a rush of fear flow through him.

''That's my flat,'' you breathed. ''Someone has been in my flat.'' You were shocked, the invasion of privacy and breaching of your safety sent chills down your spine. Just two days ago, you still lived there. Everything you owned was still there.

Sherlock steadied you. ''I don't want you in there by yourself anymore. You live with me now. I'll ask someone else to move your stuff.''

''Well, we obviously have to go there,'' Lestrade commented. ''It has to be some sort of clue.''

''We will go there, but (Y/N) is not staying there for another second by herself.''

''Let's go check it out. I'll round up some officers.'' Lestrade quickly left the room.

Sherlock pulled you back behind the glass, locking the door to keep Moran in the interrogation room. ''Are you alright?'' he asked you, his hands moving to cup your face.

''Yes. Yes, I'm fine.''

''Are you sure you want to follow this clue?''

''This is Moriarty's game, Sherlock. You heard Moran, this is the next phase. As you said, we have to play along.''

A sly smile formed on his lips. ''The game is on.''