A/N: I have an obsession with Moriarty. Soo, I'm going to do a fanfic about him :) and Sherlock of course.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

"No, friends protect you!"

Sherlock watched as John threw him a dirty look, before leaving the room and slamming the door behind him. If only John knew the truth behind those words, but how could he? Sherlock told him so many times that caring wasn't an advantage that John truly believed he was cold hearted. He envied John, the simplicity of his brain, and how he looked without properly seeing. However right now, that was the only thing saving John from death. Sherlock needed John to believe that he was cold, heartless - a fake.

He heard a beep and pulled out his phone.

I'm waiting - JM.

Sighing, he stood up, brushed the creases out of his coat, and made his way towards the roof. He knew deep down that this was it, no turning back now. John was safe, at least that was something. He hoped that Molly was prepared, and that she wouldn't let him down. He felt guilty, knowing that he was only using her to save the people he cared about. She had always been willing and so loyal, that it made him wish he gave her some more attention.

Still, this was it. No point in feeling guilt, guilt wasn't going to make this situation any better, so he erased the memories from his mind, instead focusing on the task in hand. He climbed the stairs slowly, his feet almost dragging against each step.

Finally he reached the top and squinted slightly as the sun hit his eyes. He could see Jim, sat on the edge of the roof, staring across London, his back to Sherlock. How easy it would be to push him off the edge, and end all this once and for all. It was a stupid idea, as Sherlock knew full well that Jim would have more men hidden across London, just waiting.

He could hear music playing, and felt himself smirk slightly. Staying Alive. How ironic. Or maybe it was a clue, Sherlock wasn't sure. The music stopped suddenly and Jim swung his head around, his dark eyes resting on Sherlock's light blue.

"I must say, you chose a good place," Standing up, he walked over to Sherlock, "How does it feel? Me winning?"

"You haven't won," Sherlock smirked, "I figured out the code, I can change everything."

Jim stared at him, "Oh, the key code? Hmm."

He turned and walked back towards the edge of the building, "There is no key code."

"Then how..?"

Jim spun around, his arms opened wide, "Then how did I do all that stuff? Magic, and a little co operation."

Sherlock watched him, his face showing no emotion. He was expecting this, after all, Jim Moriarty was very persuasive when he wanted to be.

"That's old now," Jim drawled, "I'm over it. No, I need to talk to you about something else. Your fall."

"My fall?" This was it, this is what he was waiting for. "I'm not going to jump off of a building to satisfy you, Moriarty."

"Jump? No, I don't want to kill you. Not yet anyway, I have other plans for you, Sherlock."

"Like?"

"You know, I envy you, Sherlock. You and your little pet, John. I want my own pet, someone who is truly mine."

"Get one then."

Jim grinned, "I have."

Sherlock cocked an eyebrow, "Good for you, can I go now? I have stuff to do."

"Oh Sherlock, you and me were made for each other. You are my pet, or will be soon."

"I'd rather die," Sherlock hissed, turning back towards the door. "I really would."

"Would you rather John died? Or Mrs Hudson? Or that DI from Scotland Yard? I have snipers trained on each of them. They will all die unless you agree."

Sherlock stopped walking, "So you're making me choose? Myself or them? Not a good question to ask a sociopath."

Jim giggled, "We both know that you care though, especially with that doctor of yours. Shame if something was to happen to him. Or even Mrs Hudson, you threw someone out of the window just because he touched her. And then there's Lestrade, the only man in Scotland Yard who actually cares for you. Does he mean nothing?"

"So what am I expected to do? Live with you? What?"

"Help me mainly," Jim said, running one hand through his hair, "Help me bring down your brother, and other stuff."

"Mycroft? I can't."

"Your darling brother was the one who told me about you, everything. He shopped you in so you can't mean much to him."

Sherlock paused, "Mycroft wouldn't do that. We may not get on but even he wouldn't sink so low"

Jim smirked, "Are you sure about that? His job means more to him than you do. Why do you think he's always watching over you? It's because of him that you're in this position."

Well this was new. Would Mycroft do something like that? Would he stoop so low? Sherlock didn't know what to believe, Moriarty was a good liar, that's certain but how else would he know all that stuff? John wouldn't tell him, which only left Mycroft.

"I'll let you think it over, you have twelve hours and then I'll come for you, Sherlock. I'll come for you."

"Think what over? This is insane, even for your standards. I thought you were going to make me jump, I even had it all planned out."

Jim giggled, "Well I am so changeable, Sherlock. Besides this is funner isn't it? This little game."

"It's not a game," Sherlock growled, clenching his fists, "You're threatening me, how is that amusing?"

"Twelve hours, Sherlock, and don't go running to your brother - or actually - do, and then you'll see that I'm telling the truth. I meant it when I said we were good for each other, don't you agree?"

"I don't do relationships," Sherlock sniffed, "But if I did, I wouldn't look twice at you."

Jim walked towards the door, "Twelve hours, and then I'll find you."