Jim smiled as he tracked Sherlock's pet's progress through the ball room with his eyes. He took a sip of his champagne and enjoyed the doctor's attempts to remain inconspicuous amongst the high class of people to which he clearly didn't belong.
'Poor pet, he's lost his master,' Jim giggled quietly to himself.
He was well aware Sherlock was being held somewhere in this mansion, but for once it wasn't one of his plans and he was content to let things play out for the moment. He might even offer his services to the doctor if it didn't look like he was getting anywhere. After all, Sherlock's pet wouldn't have even made it inside if Jim hadn't spotted him and paid off/threatened security to let him in. These balls were always so terribly dull, and ruining rich people's lives with a few choice words got old after a while. Jim took another sip of his champagne and subtly began stalking the doctor as he made his way through the ballroom.
John Watson was close to having a panic attack. He was generally a cool man under pressure and adverse circumstances (as evidenced by his career as an army doctor), but this was almost too much. Bloody Sherlock had gotten himself captured and was now being held somewhere in this huge expensive mansion. John hadn't had any time to put together any sort of plan and Lestrade wasn't answering his phone, not that John had any real evidence that the DI could use to leverage his way in here for a search. Mycroft was overseas somewhere (or else he probably would have been one of the guests) and John didn't really know or trust any of the agents he was sure Mycroft had left behind. A few weeks ago one of his people had been caught passing some information onto a still unknown contact and John wasn't about to risk trusting any of Mycroft's men unless Mycroft himself was here to direct things.
The stupid thing was it was Sherlock's impatience that (once again) had landed them in this situation. John had been filling in at the surgery several days in a row due to several doctors being out sick, including Sarah, so he hadn't been able to run after Sherlock as much. While he still got the summary of things he didn't have as many of the details of the case like he usually did. Sherlock had been too busy dashing off after a leads and John had been too busy trying to get to work on time each day.
The case had started with Lestrade calling them after he stumbled across four murder cases that on the surface didn't seem connected at first. However something about them caught his eye and he had called Sherlock in to confirm there was a connection. The four murders happened within the last three months. Each death was different from the others in cause of death, the type of victim, the location, and the evidence both on and around the body. Somehow out of whatever Sherlock deduced from the files, he had declared that a small, exclusive cult with from high society were the culprits. Sherlock had then started working on identifying just who those members were.
Once he had determined that the mansion John was in right now was most likely the meeting place for the cult members, Sherlock had declared his intentions to do a little breaking and entering so he could look around for evidence. John had told him to wait a day, when he would be able to go with the idiotic man and watch his back. But no, the detective just had to go right then which was two days ago and now he had been captured and was being held somewhere in this bloody huge mansion. At least Sherlock had left him a note, even if it had been done in true Sherlock style.
John,
If I have not returned by 5pm tonight, I have most likely been captured and somehow unable to escape. Unless my body has already been discovered. There is a masquerade ball tonight; you should be able to make your way in with what you call your best suit and a mask. Undoubtedly I will be held somewhere inside and I would suggest you find me by dawn as the information I have collected indicates that another victim was to be sacrificed in accordance with the rising of the sun on the third day of their kidnapping as one of the cult's rituals. Now stop all that swearing and stomping around you're probably doing and hurry up. I have no doubt that I will be terribly bored by the time you find me.
SH
That wasn't the worst part of it all. Which was a miracle considering his suit was making him feel uncomfortable, as well as the fact that it was quite obvious it wasn't as expensive or tailored like everyone else's. His mask was cheap as well, fit him poorly, and was restricting his vision more than he was comfortable with. He might have been able to work through all of that if it wasn't for the fact that he was the only bloke here without a date. Every single man here had some sort of beautiful or expensively dressed woman on his arm. Granted, it would have made looking for Sherlock a little more difficult, but damned if John didn't feel as if he stood out anyway.
However, all of that paled in comparison to the problem John had just noticed a few moments ago. A man standing in a corner formed by a pillar and a wall a little ways away was watching him. John risked a quick glance and rapidly paled as the man noticed him and smiled, the lower half of his face exposed by the elegant half mask he wore. It wasn't a nice smile; it was a smile filled with malicious glee and one John recognized immediately.
'Bloody fucking hell! Of all the people to run into here, why the fuck did it have to be Moriarty?' John's heart rate sped up and his palms became clammy with sweat as he frantically looked around for an escape route that would get him away from Moriarty quickly. The last thing he wanted was Moriarty deciding to kidnap him or strap him in a bomb again.
But it was too late; Moriarty had already crossed the space between them, was right in front of him so they were practically chest to chest and much too close for appropriate public behavior, especially at a posh ball like this. John forced himself to remain still and keep a calm demeanor, leaving his body relaxed. He didn't want to give Moriarty any sort of advantage, and that included showing he was rattled by the criminal's proximity not to mention the fact he was here in the first place.
As Sherlock's pet finally noticed his presence and had a predictable freak out, Jim couldn't suppress the smile he felt forming. Oh! He was having so much fun already. He just couldn't resist any longer, and walked over to the doctor, crowding him against the wall he had his back to, making sure that there was barely any space between them (and certainly not enough to be appropriate for a high class snobbish event like this). Jim giggled again- he loved being able to kill two birds with one stone. Screwing with Sherlock's pet and at the same time offending all the stupid, hypocritical, rich sheep in the room gave him immense satisfaction. Noticing his giggle had disturbed the doctor in front of him, he smiled even wider.
"Hello Johnny boy! What brings you here? I would ask you if you come here often, but we both know that's not true, not with what you're wearing as you try to pass yourself off as a member of high society."
As he watched the doctor's ears burn in embarrassment at his cutting remark, Jim continued.
"It looks to me like the pet has lost his master and is frantically trying to sniff him out. He must definitely be somewhere in this mansion, if you're here."
John stiffened, his hands curling into fists out of sight in his pockets as Moriarty's words sank in. "Did you have something to do with this case, Moriarty? Is this one of your games?"
Jim leaned into John, grabbing his arm in a grip tight enough to bruise, as he whispered in the other man's ear, the amusement clear in his voice.
"Call me Jim, Johnny boy." He emphasized the order by squeezing even tighter on the arm in his grasp. Bruises would definitely form later. "As for dear Sherlock, no, I don't have a hand in this… For once. However, I could be convinced to lend a helping hand in finding him… for the right price, of course." The grip on John's arm changed from vicious to a gentle stroking motion as Moriarty finished his sentence and licked John's ear seductively.
John couldn't quite contain the shudder of disgust that ran through him, even as he cursed himself for giving Moriarty the reaction. Still smiling that insane creepy grin, Moriarty leaned back enough that he and John could look each other in the face again. His hand gave John's arm one last caress before slipping into the pocket of his pants. At this point John didn't know what to think; normally the fact that Moriarty was here meant he had some hand in it somewhere, but in all the evidence and leg work Sherlock and John had done before Sherlock had gotten captured didn't shown any connection back to the consulting criminal. He clenched and unclenched his fists in his pockets as he tried to think. It looked as if Moriarty's presence was just a coincidence, as unbelievable as that was. However, the fact that Moriarty was now interested in what was going on was a bit not good. John didn't even want to think of the implications right now behind what Moriarty was insinuating the price for his help would be.
"What makes you think I need your assistance, Mori-, I mean Jim?" John demanded. He had changed the name at the last minute when Moriarty's hand had flexed in his pocket like he wanted to squeeze John's arm again and his eyes flashed a warning. John didn't need to be a genius to know that antagonizing the consulting criminal over something as simple as a name right now would not be to his benefit. Or Sherlock's, at the moment.
'Oh how delightful the pet is when he squirms.' Jim mused as he took in the doctor's reactions to his playful flirting. Jim couldn't help it, a little shiver of delight made its way down his spine as he thought of the reactions he would undoubtedly get if he forced Sherlock's pet down on his knees and shoved his cock right down the man's throat, wiping that defiant look right off his face. Even better if he held off until they were right in front of Sherlock to do it. Oh, he could just imagine the look on his mirror opposite's face as he saw his pet giving Jim a blowjob as payment for his rescue. Ripping his mind away from his fantasies before he got too caught up in them, Jim decided to let the doctor know just exactly why he needed his help. He leaned in again a little so he was once again whispering in the man's ear.
"Oh, you definitely need my assistance, Johnny. It may not look like it in here, but they have an ex-military security force with loaded guns roaming the halls outside of this ballroom, as well as electronic security pads at all the doors. Sherlock might have the skills to get past the locks, but I highly doubt that you do. By the way, have you found out where they're keeping your master, Johnny, or have you not even gotten that far?"
The last part was said in Jim's trademark sing-song cadence and grated on John's already frayed nerves. The man knew damn well that John didn't have the faintest clue where they were holding Sherlock. Still, he couldn't trust Moriarty to tell the truth about the security unless he saw for himself first. Moriarty must have seen the distrust in his face, because he backed off and gestured to the nearest door with the hand not holding his champagne glass.
"If you don't believe me pet, go take a peek and then come and find me when you figure out you can't save your master without my help." With that Moriarty tossed back the rest of his champagne and wandered off into the crowd, tossing a smug smirk and a wink over his shoulder as he went.
