When Sherlock awoke he did not open his eyes. He squeezed them shut tight, especially when he felt an arm wrapped around his shirtless torsoe. It was a nightmare, he told himself. He would wake up and the arm hugging him would be Molly or John's hand, for he would only be comfortable laying with them, or better yet, just a figment of his imagination.

He opened one eyelid and saw a delicate white hand around him, uncallused and rarely worked with bare. Not John's hand, which was hard and warn from years of war and labour.

Please be Molly...please, please…

He turned to face the one and only James Moriarty, asleep, next to him. Oh, God. Even though he had deduced that his abduction had not been a fiction from a bad dream, he had still had a sliver of hope his situation was unreal. He looked at his uncovered chest, void of the white dress shirt he had been wearing, and then reached, alarmed, into his trousers, looking for at any signs of sex, but, thank goodness, there were none. He breathed a deep breath of relief.

He looked around the room more closely, with Moriarty's arm still embracing him. There had to be an escape route. There were stairs leading up to a door, so he was in a basement or cellar then. Moriarty hardly seemed the person to keep a guard at a door or even to live with those he worked with unless they were very close...unless this wasn't his house...but the probability pointed to the theory that it was. If Sherlock could get a hold of a bobby pin or nail that he could pick the lock on the chain tying his ankle to the bed and steal some of that drug, Jimlock, and administer a heavy dose to his captor, then he would be out in no time.

But he couldn't do that. Not at the expense of his few friends. Moriarty would wake up, and then he would he relize Sherlock was gone, then kill them all...unless...unless... He could...he could kill Moriarty…

Why not? After all this snake had done to him, surely it wouldn't be hard at all. The chain around his leg would make a fine strangling device.

But Sherlock couldn't do it, even if it was Moriarty. He had killed once before, and he could see that John, Molly, and Mycroft had all looked at him differently since Magnussen. Sherlock the murderer. If he killed another he might loose their friendship. He just couldn't kill ever again. He couldn't bring himself to do it.

But he wouldn't be stuck here forever. John, Lestrade, and Mycroft would find him. Of course, Mycroft was probably only miles away, minutes from saving him, hacking away at CCTV's.Sherlock smiled at the thought that he would be rescued any moment now…

"Thinking about me, are you?"

Sherlock nearly jumped out of his skin, he had nearly forgotten Moriarty was right next to him. Bit he hid his surprise well.

"Excuse me?"

Moriarty grinned at the detective, hugging him tighter and resting his head on Sherlock's bare shoulder, "You were smiling, were thinking about me?"

"Yes , actually," Sherlock replied with an icy tone, "I was imagining the look on your face when Mycroft and Lestrade rush in here any second and promptly take you to an insane asylum."

"Oh, Sherly, you are thoughtful! Thanks for reminding me, love!"

"What?"

Without responding, Moriarty pulled out a phone, Sherlocks phone, and started texting. Sherlock looked over to see what he was doing and he saw Moriarty, posing as Sherlock, texting John.

Going out for milk.

SH

Sherlock was almost in shock, "How do you know I say that when-"

But before Sherlock could finish his sentence, John replied.

Sherlock, whenever you say you're

"going out for milk" it means you will

disappear to Egypt or something for

like three months.

JW

Moriarty waited for a few minutes before answering,

Just going to get milk. I promise.

SH

Sherlock saw what Moriarty was doing. He was applying Sherlock's social, or non-sociak, habits to the texts so he could accurately pose as him.

"Now that your pet has been felt with, time to call big brother!" Moriarty said, slightly giddy, scrolling through Sherlock's contacts until he found Mycroft.

"Mycroft will detect it's only you imitating my voice. We grew up together, we know when it is one of us talking."

"Oh, no, I'm not talking to big brother, dear. You are," Moriarty passed the phone to Sherlock.

Sherlock hesitantly took the phone from Moriarty. But instead of calling his brother, he quickly switched the contact and called John He didnt care what Moriarty might do to him, this might be his only chance to make someone aware of his situation.

The phone gave four rings until his flatmate picked up, "Hey, Sherlock. So what country are you in now? You really should stop the 'getting milk' thing-"

"Oh, hello, Mycroft," pretending to talk to Mycroft so Moriarty would (hopefully) not catch on.

"Sherlock...this isn't Mycroft, it's John…"

"Of, course, brother dearest, I am fine."

"Sherlock what's going on?"

"No, Mycroft, it's just I am going out of the country and I need to make sure you and John don't come after me. I might be gone for awhile."

"Sherlock are you alright? This John..."

"No, I just told John I was going to get milk."

"Sherlock are you okay?"

"Of course, it has nothing to do with the Vatican cameos, brother."

"Oh! Where are you? What is going on? Sherlock, should I tell Mycroft?"

"Yes, of course, you should. Now stop being so nosy, My-cake, and do not follow me. Good day."

"Sherlo-"

And with that he hung up.

"Well done, Sherlock! Well done!" Moriarty said, ecstatic, "You are a good actor! Maybe even twice as good as Benedict Cumberbatch!"

"Who-?"

"But...I'm going to need that, phone back, dear."

Sherlock passed the phone over, thinking do not look at phone history, do not look at phone history…

And thank the good Lord he didn't.

Moriarty pocketed the phone and stood up stretching luxuriously. When he was done he turned back to Sherlock, "Oh, I'm sooooooo sorry, love. I nearly forgot about that dreadful chain. Give me a sec."

Sherlock expected Moriarty to go to a secret hiding place to retrieve the key to his ankle chain but instead Moriarty reached in to his trouser pockets and pulled out a shiny silver key. Sherlock growled, mentally ridiculing his stupidity. His means of escape had been inches away! In Moriarty's pocket! The whole time! He fumed. This man was unpredictable.

Moriarty pulled down the covers to reach Sherlocks leg. Instead of just unlocking the chain, he gently stroked Sherlock's leg. Sherlock jerked his lower limb back in disgusted protest, a shot of pain from the tight chain coursing through his muscles.

Moriarty gave him a disappointed, yet amused look, "Now, Sherly, really? You know what I am going to have to do now. You disobeyed me sweetheart, and that is against the rules," He took out his own phone this time and scrolled through his contacts. Sherlock could see some of the names;

Jawny-Boy

Mikey H.

Natasha

Irene

SO Sherly

Nick Fury

Morierty clicked on the contact labeled Seb. Those emoticons looked ominous. Moriarty started texting "Seb". He began writing a word. He typed in E…then a U...

Oh shit. Sherlock's brain panicked. He was writing Eurus's name! He was telling "Seb" to kill her because Sherlock resisted. Moriarty was insane!

"Moriarty! Stop wait!" Sherlock yelled, enraged.

Moriarty looked at him, a mad glimmer in his smile. He typed in an R next ignoring Sherlock and brandishing the phone teasingly in his face, "Say please."

Sherlock's brows furrowed. How dare he? No, he couldn't give in. He just couldn't. If he did, he would be giving Moriarty his dignity and pride on a silver platter.

But when Moriarty pressed the U button, Sherlock forgot his resolution and broke, "Please! Please, stop! Moriarty!"

Moriarty seemed to be considering him, "Hmmmm...no. But thanks for being so nice."

The last letter, S was typed in and Moriarty reached for the SEND key, but then…

"Please...Jim!" Moriarty stopped and looked at the emotional Sherlock. This was becoming deliciously interesting.

"...say, that again, love."

"Please?"

"No...my name."

Sherlock gulped, "Please, J-Jim."

Moriarty purred, "Mmmm...once more."

Sherlock cast his eyes downward. He hated this. Being at someone else's mercy. He had messed up and gotten sentimental, and now this was happening. He should have listened to Mycroft. "Sentiment is not an asset, brother. It is always found on the loosing side." Now, now, Sherlock was loosing.

"Jim." He complied.

Moriarty smiled. He came forward and caressed Sherlocks face, pushing his body to Sherlock's, erection building up in his cock. He made Sherlock lay down, then he started taking off his own trousers.

He put his hand that held the phone behind his back and sent the word EURUS to Sebastian.

-ooooo00000OOOOO00000ooooo-

Sebastian Moran's was at Sherrinford, watching and waiting, when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He smiled when he saw Jim's name. The word EURUS popped on to the screen. Thank you, Jim, you saint. He cocked his gun. He had been getting impatient. Jim always assigned him the best jobs.

Yes, I know, I am an awful person but I had to bring in Sebastian!!!! And also I am wondering, do you want the full sex scenes? Leave your opinion in the comments below. And, yay, Sebastian is here! Jim/Seb will ensue.And did you get my Avenger references? LOL, I couldn't help it