Hi! I hope you enjoy my new fan fiction. It says it's Sherlock and Doctor Who crossover but it's actually SuperWhoLock, I just couldn't have more than two stories in one crossover fic. Enjoy! I should be updating daily.

It had taken years, years of planning to get to this very moment. Jim Moriarty had needed some help, but all participants were immediately killed. Not by him of course, Jim Moriarty never liked to get his hands dirty. He had hired people to do that for him.

All that had to happen now was for Sherlock to follow the script. If everything went as planned, then Sherlock would end up broken on the streets below and Richard Brook would thrive. The human race are the most foolish species in the universe. How could they actually believe what had been going on was real? Jim Moriarty wasn't lying when he said he had his ways to fool the simple human mind.

The only problem was, Sherlock Holmes' mind was not simple. He needed to be destroyed. Burned. He was #1 on the list of people-to-kill. Since he was one of the most brilliant men alive, it was hard for Jim Moriarty to find a way to get rid of him, but they had. It was simple. Sherlock Holmes would destroy himself.

As Jim Moriarty stood on that rooftop, waiting for Sherlock to arrive, he was calm. No matter what happened, Jim Moriarty would come out on top. Nothing could go wrong!

At last, Sherlock arrived, "Ah! Here we are at last – you and me, Sherlock, and our problem – the final problem," Jim said, as he blasted Stayin' Alive from his phone, which he held high in the air like a prize. "Staying alive! It's so boring isn't it?"

Jim turned off his phone angrily. When Sherlock said nothing, he continued, "It's just… staying. All my life I've been searching for distractions. You were the best distraction and now I don't even have you. I've beaten you. And you know what? In the end it was easy. It was easy. Now I've got to go back to playing with the ordinary people, and it turn out you're ordinary just like all of them."

Again, no reply, "Ah well. Did you almost start to wonder if I was real? Did I nearly get you-"

Finally Sherlock spoke up, "Richard Brook."

Jim smiled. He knew exactly what Sherlock was saying, "Nobody seems to get the joke, but you do."

"Of course."

"Attaboy."

"Rich Brook in German is Reichen Bach – the case that made my name," Sherlock said. That name had been simple. Jim was fluent in all the languages of planet Earth so it was easy to find a translation that had a nice name in it.

Jim started pacing in circles around Sherlock, "Just trynna have some fun." When he saw the rhythm that Sherlock was tapping on his fist, Jim smiled. This really was a clever man. "Good. You got that too."

"Beats like digits. Every beat is a one; every rest is a zero. Binary code. That's why all those assassins tried to safe my life. It was hidden on me, hidden inside my head – a few simple lines of computer code that can break into any system."

"I told all my clients: last one to Sherlock is a sissy."

Sherlock gestured to his head, "Yes, but now that it's up here, I can use it to alter all the records. I can kill Rich Brook and bring back Jim Moriarty."

Jim looked at Sherlock in disappointment. He had expected more from someone as special as him. Jim knew that the trick to getting at Sherlock was to taunt him; leave him wanting to know more. So he decided to tease him a bit.

"No, no, no, no, no, this is too easy. This is too easy." Jim paused for a moment, just to let Sherlock process what was going on. When he felt Sherlock begin to panic, that's when he continued, "There is no key DOOFUS!" Jim screamed. The confusion on Sherlock's face almost made Jim laugh.

"Those digits are meaningless. They're utterly meaningless. You don't really think a couple lines of computer code are gunna crash the world around our ears? I'm disappointed. I'm disappointed in you, ordinary Sherlock."

"But the rhythm…" Sherlock started.

"'Partita Number One' Thank you, Johann Sebastian Bach."

"But then how did…"

Jim cut him off, "Then how did I break into the Bank, to the Tower, to the Prison? Daylight robbery. All it takes is some willing participants."

Sherlock stood in silence for a moment. Jim almost laughed. He wished he could capture that look on Sherlock's face, frame it and post it all around London – forget that – the universe.

"I knew you'd fall for it. That's your weakness – you always want everything to be clever. Now, shall we finish the game?" Jim said, trying to pick up the pace, "One final act. Glad you chose a tall building, nice way to do it."

"Do it? Do – do what?" Realization hit Sherlock, and it was almost as funny as confusion, "Yes, of course. My suicide."

"'Genius detective proved to be a fraud' I read it in the paper, so it must be true. I love newspapers. Fairytales." Jim said as Sherlock inched closer to the edge of the building. "And pretty Grimm ones too."

"I can still prove that you created an entirely false identity."

It was cute; Sherlock threatening his life. But Jim was growing impatient. "Oh, just kill yourself. It's a lot less effort. Go on. For me," Sherlock remained silent.

"Pleeeeease?" Jim whined. In a swift movement, Sherlock grabbed Jim by the coat and held him at the edge of the roof. Is Sherlock were to let go of him now, Jim would fall to the ground, and Sherlock would be arrested for murder. That could work just as well as Plan A.

"You're insane," he said.

"You're just getting that now?"

Sherlock shoved him further back. Jim whooped almost triumphantly and stared hard at Sherlock with no fear in his eyes. Jim held out his arms wide, committing his life to Sherlock's grasp.

"Okay, let me give you a little extra incentive. Your friends will die if you don't."

"John."

"Not just John. Everyone."

"Mrs. Hudson."

"Everyone."

"Lestrade."

"Three bullets, three gunmen, three victims. There's no stopping them now."

As I heard Sherlock say the names, I quickly texted my three best gunmen, 'Watson', 'Hudson' and 'Lestrade'. They replied seconds later.

Furiously, Sherlock pulled Jim to safety.

"Unless my people see you jump." Jim smiled, "You can have me arrested, you can torture me, you can do anything you like with me, but nothings going to prevent them from pulling the trigger. Your only three friends in the world will die… unless…" Jim stopped there to give Sherlock a chance to figure it out on his own.

"Unless I kill myself and complete your story…"

Jim nodded, "You've gotta admit, that's sexier."

"…And I die in disgrace."

"Of course. That's the point of this." Jim peered over the edge of the building, "Oh, you've got an audience now. Off you pop. Go on."

Sherlock stepped onto the edge.

"I told you how this ends. Your death is the only thing that's gunna call off the killers. I'm certainly not gunna do it."

"Would you give me… one moment. Please, one moment of privacy? Please?"

"Of course." Jim smiled at Sherlock's effort, there was no way to get out of this one, Jim had made sure of that. Jim was just thinking about how easy it had been, when Sherlock started laughing. Actually laughing.

"What is it?" Jim said angrily. "What is it? What did I miss?" He didn't understand. This plan was impossible to break.

"'You're not going to do it.' So the killers can be called off. Then there's a recall code or word or a number. I don't have to die if I've got you." Sherlock said, hopping off the ledge, back onto the roof.

"Oh!" Jim laughed, realizing his small slip up, "You think you can make me stop the order? You think you can make me do that?"

"Yes. So do you."

"Sherlock, your brother and all the King's horses couldn't make me do a thing I didn't want to."

"Yes but I'm not my brother, remember? I am you, prepared to do anything; prepared to burn; prepared to do what ordinary people won't do. You want me to shake hands with you in hell? I shall not disappoint you."

"Naah. You talk big. Naah. You're ordinary. You're ordinary, you're on the side of the angels."

"Oh, I may be on the side of the angels, but don't think for one second that I am one of them."

Suddenly, and idea popped into Jim's head, "No you're not." Jim was silent for a moment while he tried to figure out exactly how Plan B would work out, "I see. You're not ordinary. No. You're me. You're me! Thank you!"

Jim extended his hand to shake Sherlock's, "Sherlock Holmes," Sherlock took his hand, "Thank you. Bless you. As long as I'm alive you can save your friends. You've got a way out… well good luck with that."

Jim lifted his eyes to Sherlock's, grinned manically, and then opened his mouth wide and pulled Sherlock close. He reached into his waistband with his free hand, pulled a pistol out and raised the muzzle into his own mouth. Sherlock instinctively pulled back, crying out in alarm as Jim pulled the trigger. Sherlock stared in horror as blood began to trickle across the roof underneath Jim's head. Jim's eyes were fixed open and he had a smile of victory on his face. Sherlock spun around and raised his hands to his head in horror.

Slowly, Sherlock stepped onto the ledge. His breathing slowed as he looked towards the ground. Sherlock took out his phone and sent a quick text before selecting a speed dial and the phone began to ring.

"John," Sherlock said. "Turn around and walk back the way you came. Just do as I ask. Please." There was a pause, "Stop there. Okay look up. I'm on the rooftop. I… I… I can't come down, so we'll… we'll just have to do it like this."

It was hilarious, hearing the tension grow in Sherlock's voice as he spoke to John. It was obvious that Sherlock loved the man, but no one was sure if that counted for the other way around.

"An apology. It's all true," Sherlock continued, "Everything they said about me. I invented Moriarty." Sherlock's voice broke when he said, "I'm a fake." Then he paused, "The newspapers were right all along. I want you to tell Lestrade, I want you to tell Mrs. Hudson, and Molly, in fact, tell anyone who will listen to you that I created Moriarty for my own purposes."

Sherlock began to tremble as he listened to John on the other end, "Nobody could be that clever," He said after a minute. "I researched you. Before we met I discovered everything that I could to impress you. It's a trick. Just a magic trick. No! Stay exactly where you are! Don't move. Keep your eyes fixed on me. Please will you do this for me? This phone call, It's… It's my note. It's what people do, don't they – leave a note."

"Goodbye, John." Sherlock threw his phone onto the rooftop, then spread his arms and fell forward. Just like that he was gone.

I stepped out of the shadows once he was out of sight and approached the body that was lying on the ground. The one that looked identical to mine. Jim Moriarty, what a handsome man. I picked my pistol up from Jim's cold hand and put it in my waistband. Then I snapped my fingers, and the body was gone. I thought about it for a moment, and then decided to keep the body there. If the human race thought I was dead then they wouldn't come looking for me. I snapped my fingers again and the body returned.

I began to laugh hysterically. Now that my theory had been proven and Sherlock was dead, I could kill them all. To be more specific, the one. The one and only man who could stop me and I could kill him. The man who called himself the Doctor.

I walked over to the edge of the building and peered over. I was pleased with what I saw. Down on the ground, there were people surrounding Sherlock's body and John Watson was trying to fight through the crowd. The sight made me smile.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and hit the speed dial. My accomplice answered after the first ring, "Jim?"

"Mission accomplished. We can start planning for the Doctor's arrival."

And in the blink of an eye, I disappeared from the rooftop