Well. Happy Easter guys! :D Enjoy!

221b two days before Easter;

Mrs. Hudson insisted on bringing the boys chocolate eggs. Mycroft brought them chocolate bunnies from Switzerland, of course they were perfectly moulded and tasted just exquisite. Lestrade egged John and Sherlock with actual eggs as they came out of the flat, he was accompanied by Anderson and Donovan. But… a different kind of Easter madness, created by Jim Moriarty, was much more interesting than the make up of chocolate. John was actually quite glad that he had something to do instead of listening to the Consulting Detective spit off facts about Easter. What's this madness you ask? Let's go forward to Easter Eve.

—

Jim's [Seb still hadn't been signed into the lease yet… and Jim liked the ownership] flat;

"Jim. Jim. Jim. Jim… JIM!" Seb shouted at the consulting criminal on this unusually warm night, however he wasn't listening.

Jim sat upright in his 'throne' [actually a normal fold up chair with wooden poles taped to the back with red sheets thrown over it… but let's forget that little fact as he already clawed someone for laughing at it. Namely Sebastian.] His legs were folded underneath him and a gleam of childish manic shone through his eyes, equally matched by the manically insane grin on his face. Seb was actually rather worried about his partner [shag buddy… actually. But we'll neglect that fact also].

"This has nothing to do with Sherlock does it?" he asked, placing his hands on his hipbones and standing with a mother's position over the top of him. He even looked like an over bearing mother in his tracksuit pants and baggy white shirt. His hair was a mess.

Jim just grinned up at him. "I have a daring plan my dear Sebastian, help me up," he extended his slender left arm up to the sniper- who was about a foot taller than him.

Seb took his hand and pulled him up harder than necessary so Jim stumbled into his arms. "Aw you're adorable you know."

He narrowed his eyes but kept his grin. Such a thing shouldn't have been possible with malice in his eyes and manic playing on his lips. But remember, this was Jim Moriarty! He adopted a waltz style dance position with Seb, left hand in his right and his right on Seb's hip, right above his hand. Which Seb quickly moved to place over Jim's. From a distance you would think that this would lead to some kinky chocolate coated, all night long, shake the bed and wake the neighbours sex. No… not really what Jim had in mind. But Seb was obviously… very…. obviously thinking about kinky chocolate coated, all night long, shake the bed and wake the neighbours sex. He chuckled and leant down to him, moving Jim's arm back so it was extended behind his head. His aim was to kiss him. Jim's aim was to bite him. HARD. He sunk his unnaturally sharp teeth into the nape of his neck.

"OW! Hey! That's not fucking adorable!" he yelped, but didn't move. It would only further the tugging on his broken skin.

Jim smirked against him and his tongue darted between those talented lips to lap off the blood beginning to trickle down his chest. He pulled away and looked into Seb's green eyes with his- blown with lust to the point of being nearly black. "We're going to kidnap John Wats-"

"Again?"

Jim was slightly stunted, "Again?"

"The Pool?"

"Shhh. This is special…"

"You're going to go in there, hit them with chloroform, then bundle them up and bring them come place?"

"YES. Except they'll be wearing bunny suits. And they'll be in a chocolate factory. One still in production."

Seb sighed, much like a mother fed up with her son's obsession with something odd. "Just this once."

—

2 Hours Later;

Jim smirked evilly, darkly. No, just evil. He wasn't planning on killing either of them neither, just playing a prank. Seb followed him with a rather bored look on his face, yawned once before following his partner up the creaky 221b stairs. Jim was still intently creeping up the stairs nimbly and with grace like a ballerina. Seb could just imagine him in a tutu and frilly socks, he fought back raucous laughter and managed to make a sound something like a dying cat or seal. But more like a seal, a baby seal marooned out on the ice as it was taken off said ice by a leopard seal. Somewhere between a snort as the seal was dragged under and the squeal it would have made when the other seal grabbed it's tail… something like that. But in human form. Whatever kind of sound it was made Jim shush him loudly. He whirled around with the same ballerina style grace as before however this time he mostly lost his balance and fell with the grace of a fat American carrying heavy shopping bags and a burger in the other hand. He pretty much toppled down the stairs, bowling over Seb as he went. He was like a snowball and Seb was like the toddler unfortunate enough to stand in it's way. However Jim was far too bony to be a normal snowball. He managed to elbow Seb in the crotch, kick him in the cheek and scratch his stomach all while falling not ten steps. Needless to say the fat ballerina carrying the burger, the shopping and wearing a tutu and frilly socks, landed ontop of Sebastian.

"Oof!"

"Please tell me that's your elbow….'

"Get your fingers out of my nose."

"They're not in your nose!"

"FUCK."

"No, Jim, we're not fucking here."

Jim promptly slapped him presumably on the ass going by the fleshy sound of it.

"Hey!"

"Get off me."

"You're the one that's on me!"

"That's a turn up for the books!"

"You do realize we've probably woken the whole of the block?"

"Your fau-!"

A door- the door to 221b smacked against wood somewhere and light flooded out onto the pair. Tangled limbs and exposed flesh everywhere. John was standing wearily at the top step, eyes half closed and pants hanging well past their usual stance. Sherlock followed in his blue dressing gown, it appeared he had also been sleeping. For once. He peeked over John's shoulder and yawned. Seb was frozen in a rather awkward position and yes- Jim's fingers had in fact found Seb's nose as Seb's hands had managed to find themselves somewhat down Jim's pants. Jim was mostly curled up now, but one leg was wrapped weirdly around the bottom spoke on the stairs. Sherlock suddenly laughed incredulously, high pitched and giggly. Like a five year old girl.

"Jim Moriarty isn't a man at all. He's a spider. A spider with no co-ordination nor the ability to even somewhat be quiet as spiders are supposed to be," he sighed and placed his spindly fingers on John's slouched shoulders. "I trust you know where the door is… or do you need help getting up? Consulting criminals and their boyfriends should really go back to where ever you came from and learn how to walk up the stairs quietly."

Seb pulled himself free of Jim's lanky limbs and quickly scrambled to his feet. When Jim didn't do the same as fast as he did he yanked him up. To an outsider they would have believed the pair to either be inexperienced or drunk. But Sherlock Holmes sensed a plan here.

"That wasn't very nice Sherlock!" Jim scoffed, righting himself only to press weight on a… suspected… sprained ankle. "Ow!"

Seb glared at him, but a nice glare. Sort of the ones you give someone when you want to tell them to shut up, or in this case stop being a pussy. "Jim-"

"My ankle!" he whined, "I can't walk," he attempted to move a few steps but grabbed a hold of Seb's arms. "Dear John is a Doctor….?"

—-

An hour later;

"How did you fake a sprained ankle again?" Seb asked as he picked up Sherlock's limp form from the ground.

Jim smirked. "Actor remember! Don't doubt your ki-ing!" he sang.

Seb laughed, not in the dying seal way either. Like a cute boy on one of those overly clichéd teen romance movies with One Direction playing in the background. Jim snorted.

"I can't carry Johnny-boy all by my lonesome now can I?" he made a sad face at Sebastian. Like a wounded puppy… or that dying seal.

Cue cute boy laugh.

—

A bruise, a bitemark and a near death experience later;

Seb finally managed to get both John AND Sherlock out of the car, the fuckers were so goddamn heavy when there was only ONE of you carrying them. Now Seb was that Leopard Seal and Jim was the helpless [don't call him that. You won't have a recognizable face left] little seal pup. He was flourishing his hands with that ballerina like grace as he saw before he put on weight and changed race and became a fan of bra shopping while eating take out. He pushed the double doors to the factory open at the same time and stepped through. Obviously in his haste to be so fantabulous he forgot that Seb existed so the door slammed in his face.

"Uh. Jim!" he called. His voice was strained from carrying the Consulting Detective and the Army Doctor around in their bunny suits.

The doors opened once again to the face of the slightly flushed Consulting Criminal. "Sorry my dear Sebastian. I had to light candles to set the mood for when they wake up…" he opened one door larger and Seb stepped through it.

"Mood?"

"Nothing of your concern."

"Jim."

"What?"

"It wouldn't be the way I've woken up lately is it?"

"Maybe…."

Seb scoffed. "Where do you want them?"

Jim flicked on a torch, illuminating the darkness around them to reveal some crazy looking machines. "Here," he pointed the light at a table, square and a little small.

"We're going to fit them on there…?"

"Hush."

Seb raised his eyebrows in a 'oooookkkaaaayyy then' kind of way and carried them to the little table. He realized that there was pink fluffy handcuffs all over the place. He glanced at Jim with a sly grin.

"Put them in the most obviously sexual position you can."

Seb put Sherlock onto the table and strapped him so he was spread apart.

"What about John?"

"They're platoni-"

"Irrelevant!"

Seb snorted and positioned John so his face was on Sherlock's crotch.

"Good, good."

"Do we go now?"

"Before they wake up? Seems reasonable…"

Seb snorted.

—-

The Next Morning;

It was ALL OVER THE NEWS.

SHERLOCK HOLMES, DETECTIVE AT SCOTLAND YARD FOUND IN CHOCOLATE FACTORY STRAPPED TO A TABLE WITH BACHELOR JOHN WATSON. Read More inside.