Author's Note: So this is the third (and probably last) installment of my Moriarty/OC fic. If you haven't already, I recommend catching up by reading the first two stories "Game Changer" and "To Catch a Ghost"

Somewhere outside London, Great Britain

2 years ago

Samantha awoke to the morning light glowing through the muslin curtains. Another day in this limbo. She couldn't stand it. She was tempted to make contact with the agency, explain everything, explain how she'd been manipulated, how she had...lost. What would they do to her? She remembered a time she had to capture a rogue agent before. She never knew what became of him in the end other than he was "taken care of". Would the same happen to her? Not knowing the possible outcome filled her with dread but not acting at all drove her insane. She couldn't live like this: as a vagrant, as a fugitive. She couldn't shake the nagging feeling in her mind that everything was wrong and broken, and it swelled in her thoughts like a fresh sore.

She pulled the duvet tight around her body. She didn't want to leave the bed. She wanted to sleep until she could wake up to her old life again. She was safe here from the world and its consequences. Here was sanctuary.

Her heart skipped a beat as a warm hand slid over her bare hip. There was some movement next to her and a kiss reached the top of her cheek.

"You're still here," she said softly.

"I'm still here," replied the husky Irish voice.

She rolled on her back and met Moriarty's dark gaze. His eyes were hooded having just woken up and his hair was ruffled. It was a curious thing to see this man at his most human - a privilage perhaps. But what disturbed her was her ability to separate this man from the one that ruined her.

"Are you leaving today?" she asked.

"Not today," he replied kissing her neck. "Unless you want me to."

She turned her head toward the window again and stared at the foggy glow of morning. Her skin prickled pleasurably as he continued to gently kiss her. Her mind relaxed. She decided to not feel wrong or guilty about this. There was nothing for her beyond that window. Here was her escape, her sanctuary.

"Stay," she whispered.

"I'm all yours," he said before his lips met hers.