So I was asked to translate my Sherlock/Dexter crossover, so I gave it a try. But I'm that good at English so I hope that my story is readable :)

The Game

Chapter 1.

The water was steady. It was another quiet night and in front of me was Miami, like a giant glowing lantern there would draw me back to land. Who would have thought that? Me, Dexter Morgan, a man who until a few years ago was empty for human emotions, could feel bonded to such a simple thing as a city. But Miami is more than that, Miami is my city. My city which I once again had freed from a disgrace. A miserable man who didn't had deserved to live. The only things he had brought with him were pain and death. Four students had he raped and killed in the last six months. But that was over now.

I took the last black plastic bag with the remnants of Andrew Lee and threw them in the water. It made a plop sound and I looked at the rings in the water. Bye, bye Andrew. I stood for a moment and looked at the stars in the sky, enjoyed the silence. Harrison is with Cody and Astor at their grandparent's. Even though they don't have any biological relations to him are their home always open for him. That is nice, just what I needed to please My Dark Passenger's needs, and now when it is done, I still have a whole week without child noise. Dexter-time. Oh my, what should I do with all that free time?

I started the boats motor and headed back for Miami. It had seemed to be a good day. Until, I reached my apartment. The door was unlocked. But I had locked the door when I left. I took one of the knives I had with me and left the rest of my things at the door. I slowly pushed the door open. I could see the silhouette of a man in the middle of my living room. He just stood there with his hands the pockets. I turned on the light and stared at my uninvited guest. He didn't look afraid or nervous even thought I had caught him in act (Nor did the fact that I had a large butcher knife in my hand).

"Surprise!" said the man with a shrill voice but without moving a muscle.

I closed the door behind me and placed the knife on the little table at the door. Something told me that it wouldn't be any help anyway.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"A fan." said the man with British accent and came closer. "Fascinated by your work, Dexter." He smiled. It was an evil smile; I can recognize such one when I see it. "Jim." He stretched out a hand "Jim Moriarty."

I didn't moved and he took back the hand. But his smile was growing bigger. "I have been watching you Dexter."

Could it be true? Did this man know about what I had done to Andrew Lee? To others? My brain was trying to figure out a solution. Should I kill him? Did he even fit into Harry's code?

"I can almost hear how hard you are thinking." Jim said "But don't worry, I will not tell anyone about your little secret."

"But what will you then?" I asked. I realized that this man was way more dangerous than an ordinary thief.

"I want to play a game Dex." Said he and came really close.

My hand got on the knife. But in the same second as my fingers touched the cold metal, could I hear a gun being loaded. I looked to my left where the sound came from. There was another man who I couldn't see the face of but I could clearly see the gun in his hand there was pointed directly on my head.

"Don't do anything stupid, Dexter." Jim whispered. The man there was shorter than me, looked at me with his dark eyes. "I have something of yours and it would be a shame if I have to break it." He smiled again.

I was fully aware of that it wasn't something but someone he had. If he already knew about My Dark Passenger, wouldn't there be anything in my apartment that he could take that I would miss.

"Who is it?" I asked and then my body froze. "Harrison…"

"Oh! You are fast" he said and took a step back. "But no, it isn't your boy. He is too young to understand what it is you are doing."

There was only one other person who mattered to me. "Debra."

Moriarty shook his head.

I was glad it wasn't Deb. How should I forgive myself if something happened to her? How should I explain her what I really am? But who should when mean something to me? There weren't others, only… "Lumen."

"Bingo!" Jim said again with his shrilly voice. "I caught her when she was out jogging. And now is she back in Miami." He almost sang the last line.

I was about to jump on the man to make him say what he had did to Lumen. But then I heard the man whit the gun moving. I couldn't help her if I was dead. It had been a few months since she left Miami, but I still think about her sometimes. She was the only one, who knew about what I really am but still carried about me, a least for a moment. I couldn't let this man hurt her.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked.

"Wait." Jim said. "Wait until I have visited one of my old friends."

He walked past me and out of the door with his armed bodyguard. I didn't dare to move. I couldn't move.

Quiet and peacefully. The only noise came from the cars on the street outside the window. Otherwise was everything quiet and peacefully. Boring. So unbelievable boring.

He was lying on the couch and stared at the ceiling. He had been lying there for three hours just waiting. Waiting for something exiting to happen. A murder that would be the best. But anything that could distract him from being bored was welcomed.

Sherlock couldn't hardly believe his own ears when a text messages suddenly popped in on the phone. For a change he had the phone in range, which was necessary when John wasn't home. But it wasn't Lestrade or Mycroft with a new case for him. It was something quite different.

Can I come over for a little chat? JM

Sherlock Holmes sat up. This had certainly made him curious. The last time he had heard from Jim Moriarty was when the man had threaten him and John at a pool. And then disappeared without a clue. But Sherlock hadn't really been worried about not seeing Moriarty again. Sherlock knew that Moriarty just like himself always was looking for something to distract him from the ordinary boring world they were living in.

Sherlock also knew that they had more in common than he could tell people about. That would defiantly make him look like a psychopath, not that he worried about what people was saying about him. But such a statement would probably cause that not even John would talk to him anymore and that would be too much for him. He got a new text.

Never mind. I'm already here.

It knocked on the door to the flat. Sherlock opened the door and looked at Jim Moriarty. Sherlock didn't show any emotions while Moriarty was smiling

"Good to see you Sherlock." Jim said and walked past him.

Sherlock closed the door and turned to his guest. "What brings you here?"

Moriarty now looked just as emotionless as Sherlock. "I'm bored Sherlock." His eyes were fixed on Sherlock "Aren't you?"

"I can't deny that there are too few cases right now." Sherlock said and sat down in his favorite chair.

Moriarty took the seat opposite. "And so quiet here is when your little pet isn't home. Was it a weekend trip with the girlfriend he went on?"

Sherlock didn't worry about how Moriarty knew about John's private life. As long as John was safe could Moriarty spy on him just as much as he wanted. "Yes…"

Moriarty leaned toward Sherlock "What a shame the good Dr. Watson never will arrive to the hotel."

This was what Sherlock had feared. That Moriarty once again would hurt him by using John. But Sherlock held the neutral face, showing emotions would just make it worse. "What have you done to him?"

Moriarty sat back in the chair again. "I can imagine that it can be stressful to live with you, so I have sent the good doctor on vacation. I don't hope that he is afraid of sharks."

Sharks. Shark attack. Places with high risk of shark attack. Long list, many obvious places. But also by adding obvious vacation places where people keep coming without thinking about the danger, Nr. 1 on the list… "Miami." Sherlock noted.

"Good, really good. You think fast when it comes to his life."

Sherlock didn't respond. He was too busy thinking about why Moriarty would send John over the Atlantic to Florida.

"I've to use drastic methods to get you out and play Sherlock. It's like you don't want to play with me anymore." Moriarty said and sounded disappointed.

Sherlock would like to play with him. But as long as John was involved was it too personal for Sherlock to me impressed by Moriarty's work. "What do you want me to do?"

Moriarty put his right hand under the jacked of his expensive suit and took out a folded paper which he gave to Sherlock.

Sherlock unfolded the paper and looked at the man on the picture. He was in the early forties a miserable man. He looked tired at the camera it must be a passport photo. His black hair was sticky and so was his skin. This man looked like he had a sad life. "Who is this?"

"Andrew Lee." Moriarty replied.

"And what about him?" Sherlock couldn't see how this man could be interesting for Moriarty.

"He's dead."

Sherlock could still not see how this man, this bum, was interesting for a criminal genius like Moriarty. "You want me to find the killer?"

"I've already found him."

"Of course." It wasn't a surprise.

"But yes… I think you will find him, fascinating." Moriarty stood up and walked to the door.

"Is that all? All I have to work with is a name and a photo?" Sherlock had also gotten up. No matter how much he saw this as a challenge could he not avoid the fact that John's life depended on his results.

Moriarty was already halfway out the door when he turned around. "And a city."

"Miami…" Sherlock mumbled.

Moriarty smiled "Let the game begin."