Damn it! I lied! Well, here's chapter four.

When Jack finally arrived at Big Ben, John, Sherlock and the Doctor had told Jack everything and the four of them we sitting down, drinking tea. "This is wonderful tea," John said, reaching to the pot for a fourth cup, "What is it?"

Jack turned around and smiled, "Harkness Grey, special blend."

Sherlock set down his cup, and stood up so fast, he almost flipped the table. When Jack looked at him angrily, he just shrugged it away. "Are you going to help us?"

"I don't know..."

The Doctor stood, "Please, for Rose." Jack spun around fast, his trench coat twirling around him like a cape. The Doctor and Jack stared at each other for a few seconds.

"Don't..." John warned, but Sherlock was already blinded by deductions.

"Rose would be someone both of them have felt a strong relationship for in the past. I would say that she is dead, but then Jack or the Doctor would be in deeper mourning, for this relationship was so powerful, that this girl ever survived something that most anyone can't."

"Sherlock, stop." John said, his hand clenching into a fist.

"I would say something that has to do with..." He looked at the Doctor's coat, which had a small scripture that said, 'Remember Bad Wolf'. "With Bad Wolf. She let you," he pointed at Jack, "survive, and changed how you," he pointed at the Doctor, "thought of her forever."

"Sherlock, that's enough," John said through tightened teeth, seeing the stone cold looks on Jack's and the Doctor's face.

"But soon, someone who was more important that either of you came along, and took her from you. Let's see, she seems like a daddy's girl, so I'm guessing her father. Being she likes men around her, she would stay close to someone that she can stay sturdy with. She left you, and no you can never see her again. Something with the TARDIS? No, no, no. Something with, uh, dimensions?"

There ware a few moments of silence, and then the Doctor pounced on Sherlock, his sonic screwdriver at Sherlock's neck. "Say that again," he growled, "say that again Sherlock, and I'll sonic your bloody head sky high!"

John and Jack gave each other a silent nod, and rushed to pry the Doctor off of Sherlock. Once everyone was back in their seats, John looked over at Sherlock. He had a cut on his head, and a bruise on his cheek, "How- why- you-"

Sherlock crossed his arms, looking over at Jack and the Doctor, who were talking quietly to themselves. "I was just making a deduction."

"Goddamn it Sherlock!" John slammed his fist on the table, making the three of them jump. Jack and the Doctor turned to them to see what was happening, "I know you like to impress people with your deduction, but have you ever heard that sometimes it's too soon?"

"The sooner someone get's over something the better." Sherlock said, looking down.

John put his face in his hands. "Oh, my god-" John stood up, "You know, ah-" He tried to put what he was feeling into words, "You- him-"

Suddenly Sherlock's phone rang. Sherlock sighed, turning away from a fuming John. "Must be Mycroft." I took out his phone, and look at who was phoning. "Or not." He pressed the receive button, and put the phone to his ear, "Yes Moriarty?"

John stiffened, and the Doctor turned. Jack went back to his station, his shoulders tight. "Sherlock, put it on speaker." John said softly and slowly.

Sherlock nodded, pressing another button, and throwing the phone on the table. "How did you know it was me, old friend?" Jim Moriarty's voice said on the other end.

"What other Anonymous phone calls do I get? What do you want. I'm in no mood for games." A drop of blood from his forehead fell on the phone, and Moriarty chuckled.

"Maybe I was calling to catch up." John's breathing darkened, and Moriarty laughed again, "On speaker phone I see. Here to HUMILATE ME IN FRONT OF YOUR FRIENDS HOLMES? Oh well, maybe I'll call sometime else, when trust has been regained-"

"If you can't tell me now, in front of John, then you can't tell me anything."

"Fine! I- I need your help." Moriarty grumbled, his voice muffled with embarrassment.

John laughed, "Our help? You need our help? If this some kind of bloody game you bastard? You think this is funny? I'll tell you what's funny you-"

Sherlock shot him a sharp look, silencing him. The Doctor leaned forward, his interest perking up. Jack turned around, his eyes slits. He leaned forward in his chair.

Another blood drop hit the phone, and Sherlock wiped his forehead with his scarf. "Go on, but let me remind you, I'm in the middle of another case with another client."

"I need to meet with you. You and John only. Please, no one else."

"Look Sherlock, little Moriarty even using his manners!" John laughed, and leaned into the phone. "Did Mummy finally drill those manners into you."

Jack got up and whisked over to John, putting a hand on his shoulder, "Calm yourself, he's just testing you."

Moriarty was silent, and the Doctor could swear he heard a machine in the back round of the phone. "Mr. Moriarty." The Doctor said, "If I may interject."

"Who are you?" Moriarty said, his voice tightening ever so slightly. No one else in the ship caught it but Sherlock.

"The Doctor."

"Doctor Who?"

"Just the Doctor. Anyway, are you with someone?"

Moriarty's voice was dead as a doormat. "Sherlock meet me at 567d 78th Wentworth Street. Be there is 30 minutes, or don't come at all. But remember either way," Moriarty's voice became low, "I'll be ready for a kill." Moriarty hung up, and another blood drop hit the phone.

John was the first to recover, "Oh Sherlock, you're bleeding." John walked over, ripping off a piece of shirt. "Here, let me-"

Sherlock brushed John aside, and passed back and forth, Jack's eyes following him. "None of this makes sense. Moriarty wouldn't do any of those things. For one, he wouldn't call me. The way he would want to show his presence would be to kill someone, and hang their head by my door. What should I do? Should I go to him? Shouldn't I?"

The Doctor stopped Sherlock, and made him face him, "You know what we're going to do?"

Jack stood up, "Get our act together for sure. Starting with you John. You seem stressed, need a massage?"

The Doctor shot Jack a glare, "Not helping." He turned back to Sherlock, "We are going to 567d 78th Wentworth Street, and we are going to find out what is going on. Not only that, but we are going to get my TARDIS back. Understood?"

"Fine, but even though it might of sounded like Moriarty and I were friends-"

"Oh, don't worry, John over here made it sound like you weren't. I trust him a little more than you." Jack said, putting on his cap.

Sherlock ignored him, "We're not. And if he points a gun at you, don't worry, if he shoots, I'll be sure to take the bullet."


Moriartyflipped the phone shut, and threw it at a Dalek. It clunked off the hard metal shell, causing a dent. "Is. The. Deed. Done?" It asked.

"Yes, but not only does this plan not involve me killing anyone, it means I HAVE TO MAKE A FOOL OF MYSELF."

"DO. As. We. Say. That. Is. All."

"Or what?" Moriarty laughed, walking away from the Dalek would was roaming free in his apartment.

"EX- TERM-I-NATE! EX-TERM-I-NATE!" The Dalek came closer to him, it's whisk pointing at him.

Moriarty was pressed up against the door. He fumbled to find the door knob, and when he got his hand around it, he tightened his grip, ready to turn it at a moment's notice. "I'm not afraid of your bloody whisk and plunger."

"Af-ter. The. Full. Trans-for-mation. You. Will." The Dalek pointed the whisk at Moriarty again, and right as the Dalek shot, Moriarty threw open the door, and ran into the streets.


Okay, so this is first time that I've ever wrote with some sympathy (if any) for Moriarty. I am terrified of him, so if that slips in through any of the other works, I apologize upon my bias.