AN: Sorry for the delay in updating, real life got in the way.

For those of you who got into this story when it was rated 'T' I just want to warn you that I've changed the rating to 'M'. I'm not even sure how I made that mistake in the first place.

Disclaimer: If I owned anything here then my pockets would be lined with gold, but since they're lined with lint instead then you can tell that none of it belongs to me.

It had been six months since the incident with the cabby and his acquisition of the name 'Moriarty' and he finally had a break in the case.

After six months of associating with the worst scum London had to offer- murders, human traffickers, government officials, his brother- Sherlock finally had not only a full name and tittle to go by but an address as well.

Jim Moriarty, World's only Consulting Criminal, was going to get a visit from the World's only Consulting Detective.

This would be a meeting of epic proportions.

The house itself was fairly unremarkable, as was the street it was located on, but that just made it all the more perfect of a hiding spot.

Giving the building a once over in the late afternoon sun he concluded that it was empty and that now would be a perfect time to make his first foray into enemy territory.

Walking casually to the back entrance- it would look less suspicious than if he tried to skulk about(an amateurish maneuver that he refused to take part in)- he disconnected the security system and jimmied the kitchen door open.

Stepping inside he immediately found that the house wasn't as empty as it had seemed.

The man was short, and blonde, and seemed to have a horrible attraction to frumpy jumpers; and was surprisingly steady while holding a gun pointed straight at Sherlock's forehead.

What was even more shocking than walking into(alright, breaking into) an occupied house and coming face-to-face with a gun wielding ex-army doctor- he had deduced as much in the first few seconds of spotting the man, as well as the fact that the man obviously lived here, worked in an A&E and had recently started working the night shift in the last week- was when the short man reset his safety and put the weapon back in its holster.

"Be thankful Jim told me you'd be showing up and breaking in at some point this week, Mr. Holmes, or else you'd have a hole in your head at the moment. Tea?" Caught off guard by the unexpected question, Sherlock simply gaped- though he would adamantly deny it at any given chance- and watched as the older man began puttering around the kitchen.

"Well close the door and come inside. Jim isn't here right now, but he should be back before I head off for shift if you want to wait. He said to make you feel welcome, though he didn't say why, and I can't do that if you're standing in the doorway." Belatedly closing the door, Sherlock finally moved fully into the modern style kitchen and took a seat at the bar-top island counter.

"Who..." He forcibly had to fight back a blush as he stammered over his question- he hadn't been this blind-sided by a person since the last he'd been a child!

Thankfully the blond doctor didn't seem to notice his floundering and simply answered the unfinished question.

"Oh! I'm sorry. I completely forgot to introduce myself. John Watson." Sherlock took the offered hand and gave it a shake over the expanse of the narrow kitchen island.

"Sherlock Holmes." John gave an amused snort before trying to cover it up with a small cough while giving Sherlock an apologetic look.

"Sorry. It's just that when Jim first told me your name I thought he was making a joke." John looked properly contrite and Sherlock was surprised to see that the man actually meant what he was saying.

Just who was this man and why was he living in the same house as a World Class Criminal Mastermind?

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Jim was lounging in one of his many offices while watching the live feed from one of his hidden cameras in his kitchen as Sherlock tried- and failed- to find his voice and make conversation with John.

He would be finding it really funny- and would at a later date when he wasn't as distracted- if he wasn't busy seething.

And it wasn't anyone he could punish he was seething at, oh no. He was angry with himself.

It wasn't until he saw them together that he realized that the possibility of Sherlock taking John away from him- a reasonably small percentage, only about a ten percent, but it felt like a far too big number now- was a possibility that he couldn't live with.

And he was the one that had orchestrated their meeting in the first place!

If he hadn't placed well rehearsed words into reasonably reliable mouths then Sherlock would still be chasing a ghost instead of having tea with his Johnny.

And they were laughing now too!

It was an insufferable situation. And the fact that he had no-one but himself to blame just made it all the worse.

Trying to distract himself from the events on the monitor- I said be nice to him, John, not become his best friend!- Jim cast his mind back over the past eight months and tried to pinpoint the moment when he had become so captivated by the doctor.

With a groan he realized that he should have suspected something was up when he had brought John to his main residence to stay instead of giving the man one of his dozen or so safe-houses.

And then there was that incident that preceded John's finding out about his chosen profession...

Jim had raced into the kitchen, gun in hand, when the noise had finally penetrated to him in his office. He came to a full stop when he saw what had caused such a ruckus.

John was standing in the middle of the room, every surface covered in a splash of blood, looking every bit the dangerous man he hid under his fluffy jumpers and holding a pairing knife in one hand as he looked over the two cooling corpses on the floor.

When Jim entered the room cold eyes that could freeze even his dead soul locked onto his own.

"Jim, just why would a couple of assassins be after you?" Letting a little smile grace his face- and keeping a close eye on the small knife that John still held(he had already proved to be very adept at using it to great advantage if the fact that he was able to create such a mess as this from two heavily armed and armored hit-men with it was any indication)- Jim tried to make light of the situation.

"Maybe they just don't like my dress sense?" John barely flickered an eyelid but Jim knew that jokes would no longer be tolerated until the soldier was satisfied.

"Fine. They were probably hired by one of my rivals, or one of my clients- in my line of work it can sometimes be hard to tell the difference." Expecting questions about what line of work he was in that would require assassination attempts be taken in stride, or even just a full explosion once John had connected all the dots himself- he really was quite intelligent when he tried- Jim got an unexpected but pleasant surprise instead.

"Okay then. I'll make us some tea while you call someone to come clean this up." John said as he gestured to the two, almost forgotten, bodies on the floor. He then rounded the kitchen island and placed his bloodied weapon in the sink before washing his hands and filling the kettle.

All the while Jim just stared at John's back, unbelieving of what he had just heard.

"John, aren't you even a little bit curious..." He cut himself off as John turned to look at him with one of those half smiles that said that he knew something that the other person didn't.

"I already knew you were a criminal, Jim, it was kind of obvious after I moved in here with you. Besides, everyone at the base kind of figured that you had to be one after the way you vanished from the all our records once you left. Well, either that or you were government, but that theory never really felt right considering your personality." Taking the offered mug of fresh tea in hand, Jim followed John into the sitting room in a daze.

No-one had ever figured him out without him realizing before.

"Jim?" Turning back to look at John, who had taken the time that Jim had been lost in thought to change out of his blood stained clothes and into a fresh set, Jim raised an eyebrow in silent question; earning him an amused smirk from the shorter man.

"The clean up crew? Shouldn't you call them in? I would rather not have to walk around a couple of dead assassins whenever I go to make myself a cuppa." While fumbling for his phone all Jim could think of was how surprising John was still turning out to be- and after a full month of living together too!

Giving a sigh- he really should have realized just how hard he had fallen for the doctor before now- Jim turned his eyes back to the monitor in time to see Sherlock taking his leave of John.

Gritting his teeth- That bastard!- Jim thought up several ways to break every bone in the Consulting git's body.

John was his! That bloody bastard could find his own doctor! John was his!

John may have missed the parting once over that Sherlock had given him before leaving but Jim hadn't. And he would make the man pay for it too!

Taking a deep breath to calm himself- he couldn't really afford to rile Mycroft up at the moment by out-and-out mutilating his baby brother(no matter how much the bastard deserved it)- he refocused on a more important issue: getting John-I'm not gay!-Watson to agree to a relationship with him.

Deciding that the direct approach would be best- John really didn't like it when he tried manipulating him- he pulled out his phone and composed a text.

Bracing himself for an uphill battle- John could be a really stubborn man when he wanted to be- but determined to win the doctor over, Jim sent his message.

Would you like to have dinner tomorrow night? JM There, he had taken the first step.

The reply was almost immediate.

I like to have dinner every night. :-) JW Jim couldn't help but smirk at the cheeky answer even as he composed his next message.

No. I meant dinner with me. JM His noticed his hands shaking slightly as he sent the text and he clamped down hard on the emotion that was causing it.

He was not nervous damn it!

As in a date? JW

Yes. JM

Then yes. JW Jim had to reread the text several times before it fully sunk in, and when it did he felt like swooning.

Text me the time and place and I'll be there. And Jim... JW

Yes? JM Bracing himself anew for whatever new surprise that John wanted to throw at him, Jim hit send and waited for the reply. He didn't have long to wait.

Thank you for finally getting your head out of your arse and asking. I didn't think I could take another eight months of dancing around each other. JW

Jim's laughter rung out from his office and into the ears of several of his employees that hurried to get out of range as quickly as possible. Nothing good ever came when the boss was laughing.