"Sherlock," John moaned as he rolled over on the couch. "you're phone keeps ringing."

"Yes, i know," replied the tall brunette sitting on the other side of the room with no intent of getting up. Holmes was deep in thought and had been sitting in the same spot, unmoving, for hours.

Watson was kind enough to stay up through the wee hours of the morning just in case his partner had something to say.

John glimpsed at his watch, "It's 3 am, it must be something important."

Sherlock, still unmoving, fixed his jade green eyes on Watson, "oh no. Nothing important. Nothing important ever happens anymore." After Sherlock faked his death, he and John both decided that they should take a long break from solving cases and staying out of the public eye. "Feel free to answer it though."

"if it rings one more time, i might just throw it at that lazy head of yours."

It was quiet for a moment. "John." Sherlock said, rather than ask like a normal person would do to get one's attention.

"what." John had also learned the art of not implying question marks when talking to Sherlock.

"Where you upset when I died?" Finally Sherlock turned his head toward Watson, but still left any emotion out of his voice.

John sat up and furrowed his brow. He hated talking about this. He avoided the question, "You didnt die. so what would i have been upset about?"

"oh you know, just the fact that i disappeared for months and months," Sherlock got up and started to pace. "you seemed pretty upset standing there at my tomb stone." He paused and looked at his partner.

"I was touched at how beautiful the stone was," John stated sarcastically. "and your name was engraved so delightfully i couldnt help but get emotional at the beauty of it...oh come on, i knew you werent dead."

"yes, of course," Sherlock simply agreed.

John got up and proceeded to go upstairs. "but really, im a man of war, ive learned to not get close to people and most of all ive learned to avoid any kind of pain from one's death." Even talking about his friend's "death" truly did upset him, but he refused to show Sherlock just how much. He was afraid of showing him that he really was attached. Maybe too attached. "Good night, Sherlock. You should turn your brain off and get some sleep too." Just then Sherlock's phone started ringing. "Oh dear God." Watson turned around and answered it. "Hello?"

"Ah! my dear Watson!" exclaimed a strangely familiar voice. "I figured you would answer. That Sherlock, what a lazy fellow." This voice...it was so familiar...it sent chills down John's spine even though he couldn't put a face to his voice. "oh come on, you remember meeeee, your old buddyyyy."

"Who is this?" John's voice had a tremble in it. Sherlock stopped moving and fixed his eyes on John.

"You know who this is," said the voice. "remember i strapped a bomb to your chest?" John's heart stopped. "Or maybe this will ring a bell."

"John." Sherlock's voice was quiet but urgent. John looked over to see 3 red dots dancing around Sherlock's body. John couldn't breathe.

"oh goody, it seem that you remember now."

"Moriarty." John whispered in horror.

The voice laughed, "Yes, that is my name. And it just turns me on so much to hear you say it with such fear and disgust."

"what do you want?" John asked almost desperately. He hated this man; hated him so much for taking his beloved Sherlock away from him for so long. "Sherlock hasn't done anything. He's not solving any more cases. Just leave us alone." John was starting to panic. He wouldn't be able to live if he took Sherlock away for real this time. He wouldn't want to live without him.

"It's not Holmes i want, he's so boring now. I want you, Watson." John's heart stopped again. "But dont worry, i wont kill you, i just need to talk."

"Then talk to me now, im listening," John said as he wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead. He took a glance over at Sherlock to see that the red dots still moved over his body. John was shaking now, where the hell did Moriarty, who obviously shot himself, come from? But then again, Sherlock died right in front of him too...

"No, that would be so dull," Moriarty sighed. "come see me. im at the Chinese restaurant a few blocks away. Come alone, without your little friend. or else he'll be dead for real this time. Ta Ta!" and he hung up.