The Blonde

Your Move

Sherlock stared at the monitor. It was beautiful! He'd never seen anything like it. The simplicity, but at the same time, complexity of the device. The door opened. He glanced up as Molly entered the lab. He returned his attention to the image.

"X-raying another phone?" she asked, jokingly as she crossed the room.

She'd already detained them. Made them wait while she bandaged John's head.

"No, it's…um…a screwdriver," John replied.

"A what?" she asked, coming around the table and looking at the monitor.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. They didn't have time for this.

"She called it a screwdriver."

Sherlock stood up and pulled the device out of the x-ray machine.

"Sonic screwdriver," he corrected.

"A sonic what?" she asked looking at the device in Sherlock's hand.

"Screwdriver, Molly," Sherlock snapped. "Sonic screwdriver!"

"Sorry," John apologized shooting the detective a glare. "He's a bit upset."

Sherlock began to carefully pry off the casing.

"Upset?" Molly asked.

"I'm not upset, John. I don't get upset," Sherlock snapped.

"What happened?" she asked.

She hadn't asked before, probably assumed it had something to do with one of their cases and Sherlock had been completely fine letting her think that. Now, John had to go and explain everything. They really didn't have time for explanations.

"It's Rose," John said, walking around the table and leading Molly a few feet away. "She's been taken."

"Taken? By who?"

"Moriarty," Sherlock replied as the casing snapped open. "There!"

"Moriarty?" A bit of fear creeping into her voice. "But he's dead."

"Apparently not," John said.

Sherlock carefully pulled the wires out enough to examine them. He glanced from the image on the screen and then back to the device. He needed to make the sonic inoperable, but without that being apparent.

"Why would he take her?" Molly asked.

"To exchange her for this," Sherlock replied, focusing on the wires, trying to decide which one to remove first.

"What is it?"

"In Moriarty's hands, a weapon."

He grabbed the first wire and pulled. It popped out with an electrical snap.

"And what're you doing?" John asked.

Sherlock pushed the button on the sonic. It created a warbling sound and then the x-ray machine sparked. Smoke curled out of the back.

"What'd you do?" Molly yelled.

"Sorry about that," Sherlock said, without glancing at her.

He grabbed the next wire and pulled. Another electrical snap.

"I'm rendering the device inoperable," Sherlock explained.

"And you know what you're doing?" John asked.

"I have the x-ray."

Sherlock indicated the image on the screen. Wondering, for the millionth time, why people asked stupid questions.

"But you said you haven't seen anything like it."

"I know what I'm doing, John."

Another electrical snap. He pushed the button, but nothing happened.

"See," Sherlock continued. "No explosions."

"Hang on, was that a possibility?" John asked.

Sherlock glanced at his friend. Must have forgot to mention that, but it was such a minute detail.

"Didn't I tell you?"

"No. I'm fairly sure I'd remember that."

"Oh, well, it all worked out."

Sherlock's mobile chimed. He reached into his pocket as he stood up. Blocked number. Had to be him. He answered.

"Moriarty," Sherlock greeted.

"Awww, you guessed it. Oh, well, so much for surprises. Hello."

"Where is she?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out."

Sherlock hadn't felt the urge to kill someone as strongly as he felt it at that moment.

"Do you have it?" Moriarty continued.

"I can get it," Sherlock replied, not wanting his nemesis to know he already possessed the device.

"Good. You have four hours to get it to me or she dies."


"As I said, that's for you to find out."

"How the hell am I going to do that?"

"Temper, temper, Sherlock. I don't think I've ever heard you so…angry. I kind of like it. This new side of you. It's quite…endearing." The detective was gripping the sonic hard enough to feel the metal cutting into his hand. "I left you clues all you have to do is follow them. You know the song, over the river and through the woods…" Moriarty paused. "And don't forget the…what did he call it again…sonic, that's right, sonic screwdriver. Strange name don't you think?"

"He? He who?"

The line went dead and Sherlock was left without an answer. Someone told Moriarty about the device. Who? And how could they possibly know about it? The only people who knew about it were himself and John. Lestrade and Molly knew now, but the inspector didn't even know Moriarty was alive until today and he would never tell him anything. Mycroft had seen it when she rescued him, which meant Moriarty had seen it to, but he knew what it was called and Mycroft hadn't known that until later.

If Rose was to be believed, and he did believe her, she was from an alternate version of Earth. No one else could know about it…unless…could someone else have come here the same way she did? Through one of those cracks in the skin of the universe. She said people had been disappearing. Maybe one or all of them wound up there. It made sense. It was completely insane, but it made sense. When you eliminate the impossible whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be true. She wasn't the only one there from her Earth.

"Are you planning on filling me in?" John asked, bringing Sherlock out of his thoughts.

"We have four hours," the detective replied, pocketing his phone.

"Four hours?"

"Four hours to work out where she is and deliver the device."

John didn't ask what would happen if they didn't deliver the device. Sherlock was sure he already knew the answer.

"And how are we supposed to figure out where she is?" John asked.

"He said he left clues," Sherlock replied slipped on his coat.

"Do you need any help?" Molly asked.

"No," the detective replied as he reached the door and then on second thought turned back. "Thank you, Molly."

He caught her perplexed look before he walked out the door. He heard John follow, but that was in the background. Moriarty said he left clues so they must be in Rose's flat. Over the river and through the woods…he'd heard the song, but what did they have to do with…the jacket! Of course. Red, a bit like a cape. Add that to Moriarty's fairytale fetish. Little Red Riding Hood. Grandmother. Wherever she was had to do with the word grandmother or someone's grandmother. Then there was the lipstick. John hailed a cab and he slid into the seat, pulling out his phone and began cross referencing the word grandmother with lipstick. If that didn't work he'd have to run an analysis, but that would be the next step.

Standard Disclaimer.

Thank you to all my brilliant readers!

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