There was a bit of a cock up with the chapters, I apologise. They are now sorted out and in the right order.

Enjoy :3


Long Live The King

"Got to the jury, of course." Sherlock asked as he prepared himself his own cup of tea after giving the other cup to Moriarty. Wearing his light grey suit, Moriarty sat comfortably in Sherlock's chair sipping the cup of tea that was offered to him.

"I got into the Tower of London; you think I can't worm my way into twelve hotel rooms?" he watched as Sherlock remained on his feet as he stirred the milk into his tea with a teaspoon. The Consulting Detective's eyes bored into the criminals.

"Cable network,"

"Every hotel bedroom has a personalised TV screen ..." Sherlock unbuttoned his jacket and sat down into John's cushioned chair, unconsciously mimicking the man seated opposite him, their dexterous minds alike. He listened to Moriarty as he explained exactly how he got to the jury. He wasn't surprised, in fact, it was simple enough that even he would think of it.

" ... and every person has their pressure point; someone that they want to protect from harm," many names ran through Sherlock's head as he thought of the many people he was trying to protect from the man in front of him, and slowly, the list was expanding. Sherlock internally shook himself when he realised that he was adding a greater risk of weakness if he continues to expand that list.

"Easy-peasy,"

"So how're you going to do it ..." he pointedly blew gently on his tea. His eyes, bluer than the daylight sky, never left Moriarty as though he did not want to miss a single chance of deducing such a complicating man.

"... burn me?"

"Oh, that's the problem – the final problem. Have you worked out what it is yet?" Jim said softly, his eyesbrows raising slightly. Sherlock took a small sip of his tea and looked across his cup to the other man opposite him.

"What's the final problem? I did tell you ... but did you listen?" he sang softly and took another sip of his tea before placing his cup down onto the saucer. He put his hand onto his knee and idly drummed his fingers. Sherlock, with watchful eyes, lowered to watch Moriarty's fingers, taking in each pause and tap that he did.

"How hard do you find it, having to say "I don't know"?" Sherlock put his cup into its saucer and shrugged before nonchalantly replied.

"I dunno."

"Oh, that's clever; that's very clever; awfully clever," Jim chuckled, amused by Sherlock's answer. Sherlock smiled humorously while he put the cup and saucer back onto the tray.

"Speaking of clever, have you told your little friends yet?" The detective put his fingers together and placed them under his chin. His mind slowly led him to Beth once Jim had mentioned 'friends'. All emotions came to his head and heart, knowing that he had upset Beth and in doing so, he had upset himself.

"Told them what?"

"Why I broke into all those places and never took anything,"

"No"

"But you understand,"

"Obviously," Sherlock gave Moriarty a short nod, his eyes never looking away from those of the Consulting Criminals. Moriarty glared back and could see Sherlock's emotions pour out of him, knowing that he had hit his pressure point when he mentioned friends.

"Off you go, then" he carved a piece off his apple and puts it into his mouth with the flat of his penknife. His tongue ran across his lips after swallowing the piece of the apple.

"You want me to tell you what you already know?"

" No; I want you to prove that you know it."

" You didn't take anything because you don't need to."

"Good," He softly replied.

"You'll never need to take anything ever again,"

"Very good. Because ...?"

"Because nothing ..." Both of the consultants eyes met and remained captured.

"...nothing in the Bank of England, the Tower of London or Pentonville Prison could possibly match the value of the key that could get you into all three," Sherlock chanted, not taking a single breath.

"I can open any door anywhere with a few tiny lines of computer code. No such thing as a private bank account now – they're all mine. No such thing as secrecy – I own secrecy. Nuclear codes – I could blow up NATO in alphabetical order. In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king; and honey, you should see me in a crown," His voice croaked with a hint of delight and a smirk crept onto his lips. Amused, he went back to the feeling of wearing the crown and being surrounded by such royal objects that it felt almost natural. Natural as he was dressed in riches beyond belief. Historical objects that he would wear all day if he could. But for now, wearing them briefly like he did would do.

"You were advertising all the way through the trial. You were showing the world what you can do,"

"And you were helping. Big client list: rogue governments, intelligence communities ... terrorist cells. They all want me. Suddenly, I'm Mr Sex," he lifted another piece of apple to his mouth with the penknife and chewed slowly, ensuring that he could taste the juiciness of the fruit.

"If you could break any bank, what do you care about the highest bidder?" Sherlock frowned slightly.

"I don't. I just like to watch them all competing. "Daddy loves me the best!" Aren't ordinary people adorable? Well, you know: you've got John. I should get myself a live-in one," His voice drifted as he looked away in thought, his mind turning to his reliable companion Sebastian Moran.

"Why are you doing all of this?" his voice now turning to a slight whisper, Sherlock asked the criminal who was still in thought over having a 'live-in ordinary person'.

"It'd be so funny,"

"You don't want money or power – not really," Jim pierced the apple with his knife.

"What is it all for?" Sitting forward, Jim's voice softened and he began to act slightly concerned.

"I want to solve the problem – our problem; the final problem," he lowered his head, his voice miraculously changed from soft to menacing, his psychotic persona came into play.

"It's gonna start very soon, Sherlock: the fall, but don't be scared. Falling's just like flying, except there's a more permanent destination," Raising his head slowly, he glowered across at Sherlock, who bared his teeth slightly and then stood and buttoned his jacket.

"Never liked riddles," Jim stood up as well and straightened his light grey fitted jacket, locking his gaze onto Sherlock's eyes.

"Learn to. Because I owe you a fall, Sherlock. I ... owe ... you," he continued to gaze at Sherlock, sealing his promise, then slowly turned and walked away. Sherlock didn't move and his eyes wondered over to the apple that Moriarty had left. On it was carved IOU. Before Sherlock could react, Moriarty turned on his heals to face Sherlock.

"Oh and your girl is very pretty, stunning in fact, whats her name?" his eyebrows rose slightly as he questioned Sherlock.

"She is just a hacker,"

"Oh now we both know that isn't quite true," a smirk began to play on Jim's lips, and Sherlock lifted his eyes to meet the gloating Criminal's midnight eyes. Moriarty knew he had hit the pressure point once again, but now he knew exactly who Sherlock's pressure point was. They stared at each other for a while before Moriarty spoke again, his voice lacking interest all of a sudden.

"I guess I will be seeing her at the ball then?"

"Yes,"

"Oh well, I'll make sure I properly introduce myself, goodbye for now Sherlock Holmes," He slowly walked out and shut the door gently. Sherlock stood there, his head in conflict with his heart on whether he should go along with his newly made plans, he knew it would mean putting Beth at risk, and he couldn't do that. Not even after all that she had done in the past.


Beth gazed upon The Sun Newspaper, aimlessly looking at the criminal who captured her interest from the first glance. She was brought back to the court room, the black eyes drawing her in once again. She blinked, her breath quickened as she was brought back down to reality. Brought back down to the present where that look would probably never happen again. With a sigh, she put down the newspaper and walked into the kitchen. She began to make herself a cup of coffee...

'quack quack quack'

Her phone went off and caught her off guard.

Royal Opera House. Saturday at 7 pm. Wear this.

-SH

'quack quack quack'

Another message came through, an image linked within it. A white evening gown that looked unique and elegant, like none that Beth has ever seen before. She was almost nervous to wear it. Confused, she typed a message back.

What is this for and what am I to do?

-BM

'quack quack quack'

John will explain Saturday.

-SH


Saturday

A vigorous knock on the door woke Beth up from her dreamless slumber, her groggy morning voice groaned from the interruption of her sleep. With little motivation, she rolled out of bed and slumped over to the front door like a zombie rising from its grave. She knew who to expect but her mind could not process the fact that she may look like shit. A persistent knock rapped on the door, causing Beth to lose her patients.

"UGH For fuck sake John hold on,"

The knocking came to an immediate stop and Beth swung opened the door, revealing her unsatisfied, zombie like self. John was taken back. He had never seen her in this state before, and he wasn't going to lie, it almost scared him. He held a prodigious bag, and a petty black box, but due to Beth's current state, she let that slip her mind.

"Oh... sorry. It's early, but Sherlock would not shut up,"

"Ugh, it's fine, come in," She sighed, rolling her eyes slightly. She led John into her living room, and offered him a cup of tea. After a nod from a slightly unsure John, she went into the kitchen and made a pathetic attempt of a cup of tea.

After relaxing in the temperate shower, waking herself up and readying herself for what the day has to offer, she made her way back into the living room where she gave John a more welcoming smile. He smiled back, a little nervous in case she was still a little groggy. He had to admit, he did not like Beth in the morning, she was a little rude and he surely did not want to mess with her. Her curious blue eyes wondered over to the bag that John entered with, and looked over at John with an intensely inquisitive look, eager to know why she was to be at the Royal Opera House later that day. John saw her curiosity and understood.

"Ah yes. Sherlock wants you to go and attend the ball at the Royal Opera House with Moriarty. He wants you to interrogate him, see what you can get to know about him and how he hacked into the security. You will have an ear piece..." He picked up the small box and held it out towards her. Beth took it and opened the lid, revealing a puny ear piece that was neutral coloured, matched exactly to her skin.

"...so Sherlock can tell you what to say and hear in on the conversation. He also told me to give you this dress,"

"So I am to see what I can get to know about this criminal?"

"He is more than a criminal Beth, he is a Master Mind, a psychopath in fact. Be careful,"