Coffee with a Criminal {Jamie Moriarty Oneshot}
Jamie Moriarty, Jamie Moriarty, Jamie Moriarty. The way that the words hung in the air after being said by the police made your heart stop beating for a second. Of course you remembered her, such a beautiful woman was not likely to be forgotten by anyone. The white-hot blonde hair, the sharp eyes that her intelligence shone through. She had haunted you for quite some time and now she was summoning you of all people. All that you had done was sit in the courtroom when she was facing trial. You had taken notes, you had watched from afar, and for a second, your eyes did meet. You had sweat beads on your forehead while she looked cool, composed and very calm despite the accusations and being considered guilty.
Jamie Moriarty wanted to see you. This was a huge deal to you, since you had felt drawn to her. You had seen her a few times on the streets before she got arrested. You had been two tables over when she had lunch with Joan Watson. You had been sitting on a bench, reading a book by the bus stop closest to her hideout. Oh yes, you knew all about Jamie Moriarty because you were an officer who was supposed to be hunting her down, and watching Sherlock during this to make sure that he didn’t get too close. Your lack of looking like a police officer, or even acting like one according to everyone in the academy, had helped with the task, and you had fit in looking like an ordinary citizen of New York.
You took your time dressing yourself. It would be a shame to appear anything less than impeccable in front of  Jamie Moriarty. Because of her, you were feeling a small rush of life. You smiled at your reflection, before realizing that you looked much too friendly, and there was no way that you could appear to be that way to Jamie - even though you knew she was smart enough to see through any facade that you would project. The mask that you would wear would have to match hers, at least for the sake of the prison guards that would be watching you like a hawk. These were people you were not familiar with, and they were less likely to see the intrigue that was in your eyes. Of course, there would be speculation on the reason for why you of all people were called towards Jamie. Before this moment, you did not think that she would even know your name and yet she had asked for you in full, phone number included.
You’re keeping your attitude in check, the utmost professional in fact, as rehearsed from watching quite a few of the training videos that you haven’t seen since your days at the Academy. When you walked into that high-security prison, your back was as straight as a board, your hands clasped in front of you and only broken as you walked through security, getting completely approved of course because you were not stupid enough to try to bring anything in. She’s smart enough to find her own way out without your help. That was the mind of Jamie Moriarty - not something that should be taken lightly.
You were brought to her. She looked perfect, like she had just exited a salon instead of a jail cell. Her influence had spread in here, and your meeting room was much more plush than any you had ever been in before. Her hair was in a perfect coif at the nape of her neck, her clothing was somewhat stylish and not at all like the polyester suit that you had seen on many other inmates. You took your seat, back remaining straight, trying to keep the excitement off of your face.
“You’re not afraid of me,” Is the first thing that Jamie had ever said to you. It was not the first words you had heard her speak, or the first time that it was this exact phrase. You had your answer ready.
“No, I’m not.” You spoke, your voice even. “I know that you could kill me a hundred different ways while it’s just us in the room, and that there are thousands that you can outside of these walls. It doesn’t scare me because I know about it. And I know about you. If you wanted me dead for some odd reason, it would have happened by now. You wouldn’t have called attention to either of us by calling me in here.”
“There’s worse things that death out there to be scared of.” Jamie said, crossing her legs, giving you a glimpse of the smooth skin that was under those trousers, just a quick flash of pale ankle. She was very aware of her body and how to use it to get what she wanted.
“I’m single, no kids, not close to any of my family. I don’t even have pets. There’s not a lot that you can use against me.” You picked a piece of fluff off of your jacket. “But I don’t think that I’m here for you to threaten me. You’ve already proved you know a lot about me, just by the information you gave to get me here. So am I just here to fill time or?”
“No, no.” Jamie said, shaking her head. “I am more so amazed that you are not scared of me. It’s not everyday that happens. The ones who know what I am capable of are often the ones that try to hide from it. But you’ve been watching me for some time, and you’ve never stopped. You may not  believe me, but I would like to be friends with you. You claim that you have nothing to lose and there must be a story behind that. Believe me, in this room you are kept safe from harm. I am not some sort of bomb, like the way that they think that I am.”
“You’re right, I’m not sure I belive you.” You said, but you made no motions to move, not yet. “But I’m willing to at least pretend that I do. As I’ve said, I don’t have all that much to lose. Seems like it would be hard to go and hit up a coffee shop like most friends do while you’re stuck in here.”
“On the contrary.” Jamie said. With a snap of her fingers, a guard came inside of the room, setting down two cups of coffee. Yours was just the way that you liked it, with the right amount of sugar and cream inside of it. Jamie had to have been watching you very closely to have picked that up.
“Connections get you everywhere.” You said, picking it up and taking a sip.
You constantly went to visit her, she requested your presence every week and you always obliged. Even once when you were sick, you mustered up the energy and went to her decorated cell. She somehow knew that you were sick, for tea was set out rather than the usual coffee, with lemon and honey. You grew to enjoy these visits, and you gave her details to your life that she had not found out from other means, and she had brought up her own little details, nothing that could incriminate her of course.
It was strange, being friends with Jamie Moriarty. It got you into trouble. Sherlock Holmes and Joan Watson kept an eye on you, and they were hardly subtle. Chief had to talk to them, since they nearly blew your cover more than once. It was easy to suspect you but you had done nothing wrong.
When a week went by and she didn’t call, you didn’t think too much of it. But when two weeks went by and there was still nothing, you began to worry. The prison wouldn’t tell you anything. But it was not the last time you would hear from Jamie.
Two months later, while you were trailing a man who was suspected to be running an underground dog-fighting ring, she popped up, cool as a cucumber as she always was. Her eyes were hidden behind cat eye sunglasses, but that posture, those sunglasses. You knew well enough who it was, and she knew you. She had been looking for you.
She beckoned you over to her car and you got in willingly, and you never returned to your house again.
You two made a home elsewhere, making it cozy and comfortable. You didn’t need your things, you only needed one another. You were each others best friend, and only friend.
