It seems our Sherlock missed his flight. - JM

Jimmy darling, what are you on about. He fell. Remember? - IA

No! He didn't fall. He's alive. Very. Much. Alive.- JM

Well then you lost the game, didn't you now? - IA

Oh but honey, I have won. You're going to make sure of that. Pay a visit to his pet for me would you? – JM.

John still hadn't accepted the fact that Sherlock was gone, gone for good. He had regular meetings with his psychiatrist and his limp was more than obvious. How could he alive when the man who saved him had died? He could barely go anywhere without his cane now, even the walk to the bathroom at night was a struggle. His dreams ridiculed with thoughts and memories of Sherlock. His psychiatrist tempted on more than one occasion to admit him to a psychiatric hospital as poor John still believe that Sherlock was alive, and just in hiding. He refused to believe Sherlock had died, that Sherlock had lost.

"Where are you Sherlock..." looking out the window, the rain pouring down he remembered cases where the weather wasn't noticed, it was just the case, just the case and them. Except for one case, one case that caught Sherlock's eye. Irene Adler, no one had heard from her (as far as John was aware) since she was killed, although John knew that not to be true. The door latch went, although he was used to hearing it going, hearing the door go, hearing Sherlock walk up the stairs these past few months. Sherlock never understood how sometimes; your sense will lie and deceive you. Something was wrong, this was a real noise, he was sure of it, and he also knew it wasn't Sherlock.

Sherlock would have used the key.

In the flat now, how do you want him to get to you? In one piece or... well I know what he likes after all. –IA

A smirk escapes from her lips, blood red she chose again, thought it would be ironic after the last time they saw each other.

Any means necessary. - JM

Oh how she loved to hear those words. Her dear Jimmy is letting her do what she wants with her favourite toys pet. Oh the fun and games she could have, what's the point in trying to be quiet, he heard me open the door. Who else would it be when that old women is out at her friends 'giving John some space'? We all know the truth; she needed space from Johns moping around the flat day in day out. Jimmy had the flat rigged, even when Sherlock found the cameras, he missed a couple.

Jimmy gets bored.

John moves across the floor, not very slyly, the cane hits the floor loudly, but he can hear the click of something against wooden stairs. Click, click, and click. Steadily they climb. He's heard those clicks before, those black shoes with the red cap. The only thing she wore that day.

Irene Adler. But what could she possibly be doing here?

And if you get him here in anything less than perfect condition, you will have to be punished. –JM

A pause on the steps, he wasn't counting how many, but he judged she was nearly there; he'd greet her at the door when she opens it. Let her know he wasn't all that dumb; he can live up to Sherlock.

Oh Jimmy, you won't be able to do anything tonight, you'll have... your hands all tied up. - IA

She knew what that would do to dear old Jimmy. He won't be planning anything for the next 30 minutes. Put the phone away in the jacket pocket, she thought she'd toy with Johns mind and wear a coat resembling Sherlock's. She goes to open the door but John's already there.

"What do you want, he's dead. There's nothing for you here anymore." John tries to sound stern but it doesn't happen. His voices wavers when he admits Sherlock's dead, but he still doesn't believe it, and oh how right he is she thinks to herself.

"Oh come on now John, you know exactly why I'm here, you know just as well as I do."

"You're wasting you're wasting your time Irene. He's not here, there are no cases anymore. I don't know anything. Leave."

She smiles again, she watches his face as his eyes fall to her jacket, and oh how his face drops. Doesn't she enjoy that, watching his face drop. Still refusing to believe he's dead. The original heels and his jacket, well a copy.

You always know how to make an impression. Hurry up; daddies got a surprise for you. –JM

She wished he'd stop trying to take control; he might be able to control everyone, but not here, not like that.

"He's alive John, and you know it. Where is he? He wouldn't contact anyone else. Where is he? Jimmy wants his tea party with him. Give me Sherlock John. Now."

Johns face is at a loss, and why shouldn't he be, he's been telling himself that his best friend isn't dead, and then one of his enemies turns up at his door and tells him that he's not insane, he's right. Moriaty. John thinks to himself. This is all another game; he hasn't won the game as long as someone still believes in Sherlock.

"Oh come on now John, you're not going to make this harder than it needs to be are you? Either tell me where Sherlock is, or we will take you, and bring Sherly to us."

HURRY UP! Daddies getting bored, bring me John, I want Sherlock. You can have your way with John after he's here. Now hurry. –JM

"Ok John, let's make this simple" She pulls the gun out of her other pocket, John feel stupid for not noticing, but he's too busy trying to make heads and tails of everything. Sherlock is alive. Moriaty make like to play games, and Irene sure loves to put them into action, but neither lie they make characters up, play people off one and other, but they do not lie.

"Come with me John, Jimmy needs you there to get Sherlock to him. Sherlock however doesn't need to know if you're alive or not. As long he comes, Jimmy's happy. Now move."

And with that it goes black; the gun whacked him across the back of his head.

"Night night sweetie, see you when you wake up."

Jimmy, I'm going to need a hand here I can't do this on my own. Oh, and send someone to shift John. - IA