I had lost Sherlock for sure. Not that he was really pursuing me...That was after all what had got us into this mess in the first place.

Anyways I was panting and out of breath, and had to take a seat on a park bench. It was then that I realized that I was mere meters from where Sherlock had tried to propose. The rain fell down in sheets and mingled with the tears on my face. I shivered and stared out into the Thames. My heart breaking.

"Is this seat taken?" A familiar voice asked. I sighed heavily and looked up at Moriarty... except he looked different. Not his clothes as he was still wearing a suit... but his face... his eyes, they were... Soft. His voice was too. He just seemed different. I looked back out into the Thames as he slipped a warm red coat around me. He sat on the bench next to me, in companionable silence.

"Thank you." I stated softly. 

"For what?"

"Sending me those Newspapers."

"Ah, so that is what this is about?" Jim said gesturing to the tears on my face.

"Yeah."

I listened to the calming rain.

"You talked to him then?"

"Yeah I did."

"And it didn't go well?" he asks gently wiping the tears off my face. 

"Wow. You are so observant." I sniffled. He laughed, and it wasn't the usual menacing chuckle. It was lighter, softer.

"Don't sass me Little red riding hood." He smirked. I smiled a bit looking over to him. He took my hand in his right hand... Odd I thought he was left handed?

"Who does that make you then?" I ask.

"The Big Bad Wolf obviously." He says with a smile.

"My what a big ego you have." I snark.

He lays his left hand over his heart in an offended gesture.

"Keyland." Sherlock's voice says from behind us. "Step away from him."

The sharp noise of the gun cocking zapped all the warmth from my body. 

And I watched as the light fades from Jim's eyes. Like a mask slipping over his face his mouth curls in a cruel smirk.

"Hello Holmes." He grinds out, his grip tightening on my hand.

"Let her GO Moriarty." Sherlock growls. 

"Now why would I do that? I've grown rather fond of Richard's little pet." He smiled. 

"If you don't let her go, I'll shoot you."

"Well I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Why not?"

"If you shoot me I'll shoot her." Jim sings. 

Cold gunmetal is placed on my temple. Sherlock's eyes widen.

"Why would you do that?" He asks, horrified. 

"If I can't have her, nobody can." Jim smiles, his hand starting to sweat.

"So what can we do to make it so everybody here today survives?" I ask my voice stronger than I expected it to be.

"Well your boyfriend can set down his gun, and I will drop you off at the coffee shop on the corner of baker street and main. Deal?" Jim asks. 

"Deal." Sherlock agrees, setting down his gun. 

Moriarty and I move toward the road where I hear an engine idling.

"Get in." He demands and shoves me roughly into the cab, his gun still drawn. I scramble to find a seat.

"Moran, take us to the meeting place." Jim says his cold brown eyes never leaving my face.

"Yes boss." Moran says, as we tear out of the park.

I glance back over my shoulder to see Sherlock staring at our vehicle looking lost. Then I feel Jim's hand on my chin turning my head to face him.

"I'm so sorry about that Angel. Are you okay?" He asks, his voice soft but his eyes hard.

"I'm fine... Moriarty."

He smiles at me and looks out the window. His left hand reaching out for mine. I take it and we drive on in silence.