#itsmarymorstan

Send me §, for my muse’s reaction to yours slowly slipping a knife into their chest.

The warehouse stood empty as Sherlock turned the  USB stick in his hand. One copy for John, burnt to a crisp in front of Mary’s eyes. The other, a copy for the detective, everything he needed to prove just who she was. Now, it came to a few small details; just where her loyalties lie… And Sherlock was judge and jury. 

Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned around, smiling faintly as he held the stick up. “Mary, Mary… Oh, I can’t remember the stupid rhyme.” He stepped closer, his gaze fixed on his best friend’s wife. All he needed to know was that John would be safe. Tossing the USB into the air, he caught it again with one hand, stopping feet in front of her. “But then, the nursery rhymes always were Jim’s forte, weren’t they, Augusta.” 

"Greetings."

[MARY! YOU JUST MADE MY MUSE SEXUALLY HARASS PEOPLE ON MY DASHBOARD AND HA HA HA!

XD

*sprays Magnussen with a water bottle*

“Mary, Mary - - you’ll have to try a lot harder than that to clear my conscience of your wicked deeds.”

Upon entering the restaurant - a quaint little place harboured far from the reaches of the hustle and bustle of London’s city centre - Magnussen could sense Mary’s presence already weighty in the air; the woman’s arrival having proceeded his own, seemingly. A looming static occluded the blackmailer as he discarded his coat to a nameless entity working the cloakroom, a prickling sensation that could only be coupled with the eyes of predator keeping watch of its alleged prey; the penetrating scope of an ‘agent’ – how on edge we are today, dear Mary.

Straightening the sleeves of his suit and promptly aligning his cufflinks for good measure – Magnussen’s outfit desolate of any colour other than a pinch of red decorating in stripes across his tie – he waltzed with indifference through the hall and into the main dining area. It took no time to locate his little blonde poppet, his marionette with more strings to toy with than he could joyfully tug at once, and an amused smirk threatened to crack his face in two as the man's mind took a nasty turn into dark musings of all the dirty and wicked things the ex-agent had done - always running from something, aren't we?