Prologue
Jim Moriarty would never grow up. He would certainly never get married, have children or buy a house. He was always bored, and the first time he had experienced truly happiness was when he had met Sherlock Holmes. He wasn't an equal, obviously. But he was a challenge. An enormous obstacle that had to be overcome as soon as possible. Though, Jim Moriarty had been actually worried and anxious about Holmes, suspecting that he hadn't faintness, a weak spot in his cold and impermeable defense.
How very wrong he had been.
Everybody had a weakness. It was just a question about what or whom. And finally, Jim Moriarty had found Sherlock Holmes's. Strangely, he felt disappointed and dejected. He seriously thought that he and Holmes were the same. It was almost comic that Sherlock's weak spot was the greatest softness that existed. Moriarty and Holmes had been agreed, love was always a dangerous disadvantage. And still, Holmes had fallen for it. She had as well.
It was just too easy. Not even entertaining or amusing. Moriarty would always remember Holmes as his greatest opponent and it was truthfully a shame that his brilliant mind had failed him so savagely. Moriarty smiled humorlessly when he thought of them as a couple. The consulting detective and the dominatrix. Who would have known?
AN: Do you like it? Please let me know if you want me to continue.
Frida