Well, I only kept you waiting for, like, one year.

Yeah. Sorry about that.

Meanwhile, I appreciate all the support I've gotten with the reviews and PMS, and I just can't thank all of you enough. I can't guarantee that I'll be able to keep this updated on a steady schedule or that the quality will be as great (you may notice that this chapter is a bit rough), but I don't plan on abandoning you all completely. I do know that was a long wait, and I apologize again (I'm such a crappy person); a lot of unexpected family/personal things arose that sort of took control of my life. However, I have begun writing again, so here you go. ;)

helloyesimhere: Friggin' thank you oh my goodness. Every single review you left made me so happy I physically could not handle it (not to mention they were the final promptings that got me to actually publish this chapter). And with your idea regarding Ezekiel and Moriarty: they aren't actually brothers, but that is the sort of relationship that I'm building between them, so good eyes! :)

lakariana: Thank for reviewing! I'm glad that I was able to clear up that plan because I was so confused when I first heard it explained on the show, so I wanted to clear that business up. And don't you worry too much about Moriarty! ;D

Guest: Thank you! Moriarty is also one of my favorite characters (as if it wasn't obvious enough). I'm sure we all fangirl over the archvillain at one point or another xD

Bubin: Thank you again for PMing me! That did help to bring this story to my attention (as I had begun other projects), so thank you for doing that! Your review was greatly appreciated! (and don't ever worry about your guesses being completely wrong as they could honestly end up being something I end up trying to twist into the story ;) )

Thanks again to everyone especially for your patience!

All previous warnings apply.

Disclaimer: I own nothing (if I did, Moriarty would definitely be a regular I mean come on)

Baird had come up with a plan. Flynn thought that it might have been a bit weak, but he'd never tell her that at the risk of losing a limb. However, he could come up with plenty of ways why this wouldn't work out. Chances were it wouldn't.

He had a feeling that she may have figured that out already.

So Flynn led the way, Ariel in hand (one of the more reasonable parts of the plan) to guide them with Jake beside him. He would glance behind him on occasion to spot Holmes and Baird chatting every once in awhile and then keep his mouth shut to avoid saying something stupid. If pushing one of the smartest men in the world into a door wasn't bad enough...

Baird essentially wanted to track Prospero down. Holmes would be something akin to bait, which they were quite lucky he didn't mind doing, in order to distract him long enough for Jake to sneak up behind him and hopefully knock him out (as per usual) while Flynn recited a spell he expected would maybe bind him to another copy of The Tempest. He wasn't even sure if the spell would work; it had taken hours of Jenkins and him sifting through discarded books scattered throughout the library before they finally came across such an enchantment. They just needed the right moment to test it out. Apparently now would be a good time.

Eve would do the honors of standing watch, and she would step in if anything went downhill. She also claimed that she had a backup plan in mind but didn't say what it was. Flynn just hoped that lack of voicing that backup plan was not due to it being so weak and flimsy that it might as well not count. Or it would make him unhappy. He certainly didn't want that.

Ariel suddenly chirred excitedly and pushed onward even faster than previously, catching Jake's eye.

"We almost there?" he asked Flynn.

Flynn shrugged. "I hope so. That way we can get this done and over with."

They continued walking in silence, aside from the occasionally whirring from Ariel. Then Jake chose to interrupt by clearing his throat. Flynn lifted an eyebrow at him. "What?" he asked.

Jake turned to him. "You think this'll work?"

The older Librarian thought about how to answer that without sounding like a kill-joy. "Honestly? Probably not. But it's worth a shot. Plus," he said, looking behind him, "Eve might just have something up her sleeve."

Jenkins had joined Cassandra upstairs not too long after he had heard the crash resonate through the Library. She was deftly working on organizing books into structured piles while the shelf itself still rested face-down on the floor. He resisted the urge to sigh.

"Ezekiel?" he asked, startling her slightly.

Once she regained her composure, she smiled. "Yeah. There was a spider."

That time he did sigh. "Of course. Would you like some help picking that up?"

"Sure! Thanks, Jenkins," she replied cheerily.

They each took hold of a side of the bookcase and heaved it up, Cassandra grunting with the effort. Once they got it up, she clapped out her hands.

He waited for a couple moments as she awkwardly reshaped her stacks into perfection. Seeing that she wasn't planning on speaking her mind, he spoke, "Is something troubling you, Miss Cilian?"

She exhaled unhappily. "I want to help Moriarty, but I don't know how. He's not letting me."

Jenkins looked at her thoughtfully. He had carefully prevented any judgment from passing his features. "Why do you want to help him?"

She dipped her head slightly. "I know Baird keeps saying he's the arch-villain and all, but he hasn't really done anything wrong. This whole time he's just been working for Prospero, and not because he wants to. It's just... it isn't right."

Jenkins nodded. "I suppose that I understand." He began idly picking books up from the ground, keeping Cassandra in his line of vision. "What have you done to try and help him?"

She shrugged before methodically placing a batch of books in order with barely a glance. "I've talked to him. He said that Prospero's main hold on him was through the book, and the rest was through what Prospero knows about him beyond what the book includes. I've been trying to figure out the information since he keeps slipping up bits and pieces, but he won't just flat out say it. I don't know why."

Jenkins stopped moving for a moment and turned his gaze to meet hers. "Sometimes people don't want their secrets exposed. It's what keeps us human, in a sense. Once everything is laid out for all to see... there is often not much else to live for."

She blinked. She blinked again. "Wow," she said. "That was deep."

He placed some of the books on the shelf. "Once you have lived for as long as myself, you learn to... be deep."

Cassandra smothered a small laugh by clearing her throat. "So, um... you have any ideas? I've already tried finding out what we have in common so that I might be able to relate to him."

Jenkins continued shelving the books. "And have you found it?"

She tilted her head and grabbed some of the books. "Found what?"

"Your commonality. Have you found it?"

There was a long pause in the conversation as Jenkins continued placing books in their respective places while Cassandra stood in her place still holding the books, looking into space. Finally, she replied, "I'm not entirely sure yet." She bit her lip. "I know that he has had personal experience with suicide. He got completely flustered when I talked about it. I think that his brother may have... y'know."

Jenkins squinted at her. "Are you certain? Did you ask him if that was the case?"

She shifted her footing slightly. "I was about to when Ezekiel knocked down the bookcase." She finally moved to put her books on the shelf. "Why? Do you think I'm wrong?"

Jenkins huffed out a small puff of air. "I don't know. But what you need to ask yourself is if you should force him to tell you or simply allow him to tell you."

Cassandra placed one last book on the shelf. "You're right. I'll go talk to him now!"

"Wait, Miss Cilian, please, that wasn't what I was- ah. I suppose I will just finish the rest of this myself."

Cassandra bounded down the stairs to meet Ezekiel and Moriarty in the commons. The two appeared to have been in a staring/ glaring contests of sorts until she finally made her appearance.

"Hey, boys," she said warmly.

They both gave her an unimpressed look. "You need something?" Ezekiel asked impatiently.

Cassandra nodded deliberately. "I just need to ask him a quick question."

Ezekiel shrugged. "Shoot away. I'm sure he won't mind."

Moriarty frowned. "If I may disagree-"

"Was it your brother? Was I right?" she leaned forward onto her toes for a brief moment.

Ezekiel tilted his head. "Wait, wait- what are you talking about?"

Cassandra gave him an annoyed look. "Moriarty has had some kind of personal experience with suicide." Ezekiel's eyes widened slightly.

"Hold on. Did he tell you about th-"

"No, Mr. Jones, I have not."

"Oh."

Cassandra sighed. "So you know exactly when I'm talking about?" Ezekiel bit the inside of his cheek, causing her to sigh. "Well, Moriarty? Can you just answer me?"

His face contorted slightly before he finally spoke up. "No. Not my brother."

What? She was wrong? That wasn't something that happened every day. "Oh. Your dad?"

He rolled his eyes. "No."

"Mom?"

"No."

"Oh, oh, oh! A twin sister that you never told anyone about?"

"Don't be ridiculous. No."

She pouted, placing all her weight on her left leg. "But that doesn't make any SENSE." Just then the phone to the annex rang. She locked eyes with Ezekiel, and he nodded.

"I'll get it," he said. Ezekiel stood up and jogged out of sight to answer.

Moriarty sighed. "Don't tell me it's the Duchess. Is she requiring your help?" He gave her a sarcastic grin. "After all, your belligerence towards me has been very unappealing and I obviously would have every reason to want you to leave."

Cassandra held back a hurt wince just as Ezekiel barged through the doors. "They need our help," he said.

Moriarty's face went from sarcastic to 'I told you so' in the staggering time frame of half a second.

"Fine," she said as she glared at the captive fictional. "Did Baird say why?"

He shook his head. "All she said was to go to the location Jenkins set on the globe to meet her there."

Moriarty made a slightly distressed humming noise. "Tell him to be care-ful."

He squeezed his eyes shut and lifted a corner of his upper lip in full 'didn't mean to say that' style. Cassandra blinked. "Who do you mean? Tell that to who?"

"You mean me? Or... Flynn? Or, maybe... Sherlock? Jake? Which is it, mate?" Ezekiel asked, a small smirk riding his features.

Cassandra pursed her lips and shook her head. Now was not the time, but she would definitely push him on that subject later. Not to mention that she was certain there was some kind of connection between her question and the statement he just made...

"Tell Jenkins he needs to watch Moriarty," she ordered. "then we can go ahead and leave."

The thief's grin turned into an oddly pleased smile. "Sorry, but nope. Jenkins isn't watching anybody." He quirked his eyebrows at the man in the chair. "He's coming with us."

"What?" they both responded, Cassandra with more curiosity and Moriarty with more vice.

"Yup!" He clapped his hands together. "This is going to be fun."

Flynn and Holmes were both staring at her with that same look. Like she had just made the worst decision of all bad decisions ever. And the most undelightful part of it all was that they MIGHT just be right. Of course, she'd never say that. Not to either of those attention-seeking, too-smart, competitive, supercharged, overexcited puppies. While they were both geniuses in their own rights (though, of course, Sherlock Holmes WAS smarter than her Librarian), they didn't seem to understand how annoying it could be when they conversed about 'very smart things' or gave people like her incredulous looks that suggested they knew more than she ever would. Like now.

"You plan on bringing Moriarty here? As in, IDIDN'TJUSTHEARYOUINCORRECTLY?" Flynn asked as he gesticulated aggressively.

She grabbed each of his hands and calmly pulled them down to his sides. "You have to trust me, Flynn," she said earnestly, though not entirely sure who she was trying to convince more: herself or him.

"It's not YOU I don't trust," he whined. "It's HIM."

"Well, if you don't trust him, then trust his self-interest."

"Sounds exactly like something my lovely foe would say, don't you think?" Holmes interrupted as he lifted a knowing eyebrow. "And besides," he sauntered on past the two of them, "I don't trust either of you, yet here I am."

Flynn's eyebrows shot up. "You don't trust us?" he exclaimed, pouncing on after the man.

"Shouldn't have said anything!" Baird called on up to him, to which Holmes responded with a dismissive shrug.

She continued (falsely) confidently, having become the one in charge of Ariel since Flynn decided that Holmes should be over getting hit in the face with a door. She (unfortunately) was well aware that her plan was very likely to go south. But it was better than the plan she had originally told everyone else (aside from Jenkins) to her original relief; she just didn't want to have to put up with the protests and bickering she'd receive. But she had told them the plan, and it apparently wasn't as much better than the original one, as she had previously suspected. Baird had Flynn and Holmes to thank for that.

The plan involved Moriarty. Stupid, cunning, handsome Moriarty. And as much as she wanted to punch him in the face, using him to their advantage would be even better. But if he refused… or even if Prospero decided Moriarty was as much of a nuisance as she did… or what if-

Positive thoughts. Right.

She made it to the designated meeting spot and sighed, snapping Ariel shut. Ezekiel and Cassandra would show up at any minute now.

It was situated atop of a small, rolling hill. The mildly tasteless ruins of what may have once been someone's lonely home, isolated completely from the rest of society rested atop it. She quickly repressed down on a shudder. It bore too much in common with the House of Refuge, where she realized just how bold and broken Cassandra truly was.

Then the three stooges came crashing through what was left for a front door. Ezekiel caught his footing as Cassandra and Moriarty managed to collide into each other and collapse to the unforgiving ground below. Moriarty scrambled right back up to his feet before lending a hand to Cassandra. Baird face-palmed. Moriarty still had the Sphere of Truth in one hand, but he no longer had on the handcuffs. It was probably Cassandra's idea to remove them, with that wonderful, forgiving heart of hers. Unfortunately, somewhat inconveniently, too warm of a heart.

"Heya, Colonel Baird," Jones quipped, apparently not having noticed the train wreck behind him.

Jake came running out of the down the path like a caveman on steroids. "Eh! What's he doing here?" he asked with angry surprise. Baird briefly wondered why, after all he'd seen, he still managed to be as stupefied as he did.

"It's okay," she said before Ezekiel could respond and further corrupt the situation. "I asked them to come."

He had a look of brazen horror on his face. "You? Why?"

Baird rolled her eyes. "Because we needed a better plan, and this is it."

"MORIARTY is your plan?"

Cassandra brushed some red strands of her from her face before turning her gaze up to Baird. "But what really is the plan? We can't help if we're all in the dark."

"Yes, indeed, Duchess. How could we possibly help you if we don't know the plan?"

"Oh, shut it, British pig." Jake was glancing dangerously between Moriarty and Cassandra until he appeared to have deemed the latter safe. "Why haven't you tried running yet?"

"I thought you told me to shut it."

Jake gave him a you-wanna-go? look.

"I wouldn't get far if I tried."

Jake grinned. "Good. I appreciate the honesty," he snarked.

Ezekiel was peeking around Baird into the path beyond. "Where are Flynn and Sherlock?"

"Currently brooding."

Moriarty snorted. "Sounds like something my lovely friend would do."

Baird felt like she got a serious case of deja vu. "What did you just say?"

He tilted his head curiously. "Sounds like something my lovely friend would do?"

She blinked. "Huh. Holmes just said something almost exactly like that a little bit ago. Just a small difference."

Suspicion seemed to lace in with his curiosity. "What difference?"

"He said foe, not friend."

Moriarty attempted to school his features back to indifference. The object in his hand provided no support for such a thing, and she caught sight of what may have been disappointment before she moved on, pretending not to notice as Cassandra seemed to take the details of Baird and Moriarty's chat together as though it were a part of an important equation she was trying to solve.

Baird crossed her arms and glanced at each of them individually as she started to explain her idea. "We're still going to have to keep up with part of the plan in the beginning since we don't know of any other way to trap Prospero except through that other copy of The Tempest as of now, but distracting him with Holmes definitely wouldn't be enough. Chances are that Prospero would just trap him, render him useless, or maybe even find a way to control him somehow. We can't have that. We need something to add on. So," she solidified her gaze on Moriarty, "we use him."

"Because I'm expendable," he said flatly.

Birds smiled. "Look at you, catching on. Besides, Prospero sent you to get a powerful artifact. It wouldn't be a surprise that you found one."

He frowned. "Except I'd be exceptionally late in bringing it to him."

"Fashionably late," Ezekiel countered. Moriarty shot him a glare.

"Anyways," Baird pressed on, "you're going to bring him the Sphere of Truth. Tell him that you ran into a little trouble with the Librarians and their Guardian along the way. Easy enough, since it's true. You'll give it to him. While that's going on," she turned to Cassandra, "you remember the science fair magic pentagram thing we made a while back?"

"Yes, of course."

"You and Jake will be setting one up around the perimeter surrounding Prospero while he's distracted. We'll want all the magic to be localized in case something goes wrong. But Prospero will probably be prepared, so Jones will be in charge of trying to get whatever Prospero might have that could be increasing his power away from him."

"Just one thing. Why should I help you?"

Even though Baird had anticipated such a question to come from Moriarty, she wasn't at all prepared to answer. However, Cassandra smiled. "To keep him safe."

Moriarty's face turned a fierce red. "What? No, I didn't even say-"

"You said to tell him to be careful. While you're here, you can keep him safe, right?"

Moriarty's eyes were wide with possible consternation- Baird found it hard to discern.

Baird looked between them, from the red flush of maybe anger creeping up Moriarty's neck to Cassandra's determined eyes. "Did I miss something?" She asked. "Because I feel like a lot went down in the fifteen minutes I wasn't there."

Cassandra tilted her head. "Yeah, I'm not really sure what it means either or if it actually has anything to do with us at all, but it has some importance to Moriarty." She turned her doe-eyes over to Ezekiel. "Do you know?"

He shrugged and tossed Ariel from one hand to another, studiously ignoring Baird's shout of surprise over the object's relocation, and glanced sidelong at Moriarty. "I can guess."

"Guess what?" came a voice from behind the thief, and he nearly dropped the fairy's cell. He whipped around to look at the detective.

"Really, mate? Was creeping up on me really necessary?"

"I do not creep, Ezekiel Jones."

"It was nothing," Baird chose to answer to stop the feud before it started. "I was just finishing explaining the plan."

"Oh, yes. That plan." Holmes turned a bored stare to Moriarty. "A great plan, don't you think?"

"I'm afraid I must disagree, Sherlock."

"I was using sarcasm."

Moriarty sniffed. "I was plenty aware of that. I just had to retort in such a fashion due to this sphere. Are you certain you don't want it?"

"Quite. Anything that you're in the mood to tell m-"

"It was about me."

Holmes face morphed from bored to an excessive state of confusion. "That doesn't make sense. You were talking about yourself? For what? The person who wants the sphere? Or, rather, a different matter entirely?" He strode up to the other fictional. "Come on." He smiled. "Speak up."

Moriarty's eyes were wide in nearly unbridled fear as he turned to give a pleading look to Ezekiel, of all people. "Earlier, I was more or less-"

"Y'know what? Doesn't matter. We don't need to hear what all o' that was 'bout. Let's focus on finding and stopping Prospero." Jake only shared a momentary look with Moriarty, but Baird saw that flood of relief and gratitude that embodied the entirety of the villain's countenance.

Holmes frowned at that. "I will figure it out, likely very soon, James Moriarty. And at what point, pray tell, did you begin to take his side on these matters?" He finished with a swerve to glower at Jake.

"Because he's right," Baird responded tersely. "We need to get to Prospero before he gets to us. Now, Ezekiel. Hand over Ariel."

He shoved the watch into her hand with a grumble of annoyance.

"Good. Let's head out."

Moriarty stumbled his way up the side of the mountain, biting his tongue to subdue an obnoxious complaint. He'd already rigorously explained the flaws with the plan, and highly likely chanced that someone- specifically HIM- would pay for those flaws. But he was doing this anyway- following through on that awful plan. Why? Because he was an idiot. But only sometimes. A small number of times.

Like this time.

Brilliant.

Prospero would be angry, very angry. He wasn't certain he could talk his way out of this one, but he'd certainly have to try.

Ariel whirred in excitement, and Moriarty's stomach dropped. They were getting close. He could practically feel the tension radiating off his own body. This bloody sphere of truth. Even with the breeze in the air, he was beginning to sweat. With Sherlock standing so near him, even while not asking any questions… He was certainly feeling its effects.

Someone slipped into the space next to him. "Hey, mate. You ready for this?"

Moriarty laughed bitterly, perhaps a tad more boisterously than he intended. "No. Why are you acting as though you care?"

"Because you'll really be putting yourself out there. This is a risk. I can sympathize with that, I guess."

"Why do you care?" he repeated.

"It's rare when I'm nice. Appreciate it, will you?" Ezekiel retorted.

Moriarty sighed. "I do, in a way, I suppose. But you have also been incessantly abhorable."

"You lay it on thick, mate."

"Boys," said Baird.

"Yes, Duchess?" he responded almost immediately after.

"We're almost there. Everyone needs to start getting into position."

"Why do you call her duchess?" Sherlock asked Moriarty. He prodded the latter's shoulder, sending a shudder down his spine.

"It was for effect," Moriarty replied seamlessly. He felt as though he were talking through the sphere itself so long as Sherlock's hand rested on his shoulder. "I-I wanted to make a point. I often do things for show. That was a part of it. I even went so far as to say I'd take her dancing."

Sherlock lifted a smooth brow. "But isn't that Carsen her-"

"Yes, yes, he is. I was just saying it. I didn't mean it. Well, not entirely."

Sherlock barked out a laugh. Moriarty found it quite difficult to focus on Baird's words when Sherlock was so near. "You flirted with her, Moriarty? Are you truly that comfortable in this new century?"

The heat rose up his neck. Moriarty hated that. He could usually control such mundane things so well. "To be quite honest, I'm not entirely sure if I've ever fit in either time period."

"And why's that?"

"Moriarty! Are you even listening to me?" Baird scolded.

"It is difficult to hear you over Sher- Mr. Holmes. Again?" He bit back on his next words. Again he'd called Sherlock by his first name.

"Holmes, stop distracting him, will you?" Baird's hands were placed purposefully on her hips.

"Whatever you want, Duchess," Sherlock mused.

Moriarty stared at the globe. He would lose no matter the outcome. Ezekiel, the boy, knew it. He knew it. Had his life truly become so awful as to necessitate a losing situation no matter which direction he turned?

"Don't tell me you're wallowing in self-pity," Sherlock snarked. Moriarty wrinkled his nose.

Baird released an annoyed sigh and strutted over, hauling Moriarty away by the arm. "You two are going to be kept separate for now. Happy?"

"No," Moriarty quipped. "Not about being kept separate or anything else, quite honestly. I do believe you could understand."

She bit down on her lip as Ezekiel took Ariel from the palm of her hand. He tossed it in the air.

"Where do you want me, Colonel Baird?"

She snatched the fairy back and haplessly shoved Moriarty a foot away from her. "Where do you think, Jones?"

"Right. I'm the expert, as usual." He grinned before winking at Moriarty and slipping out of the way.

Ezekiel would need to find a sturdy tree that would be close to the proposed location where Prosperous might show up. It would also have to be near several others trees in case he needed to shift to a different spot for one reason or another. There'd also need to be plenty of foliage: all would be for naught if the magician spotted him. Ezekiel stuck his hands in his pockets, electing to ignore Baird as she continued trying to defend her plan against the verbal assaults and hand-waving from Flynn. How likely was it really that this would work? MAYBE the spell would work. MAYBE Prosperous would fall for whatever it was Moriarty would tell him. MAYBE the satanic-or-perfectly-normal pentagram would ensure that the magic stayed in one spot. MAYBE Holmes's presence would enact enough distraction. Maybe, maybe, maybe. He smiled. It was unpredictable. It was fun. This would prove to be exciting for the thief.

Cassandra had already mapped out the whole perimeter and marked the spots where the magic would be held. In her head, of course. They still hadn't quite reached Prospero, but when they did, she'd be prepared. She had already coordinated everything with Jake so that they'd be more than ready when the moment came.

However, Jenkins' voice kept running through her mind. "The commonality. Have you found it?" She was getting ever closer, but it might be too late. No one knew what would truly happen in these upcoming moments. Prospero could very well destroy Moriarty somehow before she found out.

Why was he risking himself, anyway? She recalled his statement about telling "him" to be careful. Perhaps the Sphere of Truth was enacting its power over his actions; Jenkins did say it could do that. He'd be forced to act on the truth. Maybe risking his life for "him" was a part of that.

Cassandra assumed that the "him" was Sherlock Holmes.

It wasn't much of a stretch, especially considering how he repeatedly called the other fictional his friend. Sherlock could still be a friend to Moriarty, and as a result, Moriarty was going to protect him as friends did.

Speaking of Sherlock Holmes, Flynn was with him again. Maybe he'd gotten bored of trying to convince Baird that she was out of her mind about Moriarty. "Moriarty can't be trusted!" he'd explain, which was reasonable. However, Cassandra thought differently in this particular instance. Besides, all they had to do was ask him.

Baird suddenly made eye contact with Cassandra before nodding and discreetly pointing a finger to her right. The signal to hide and prepare.

She grabbed Jake's arm. "Let's go," she whispered.

He smiled in the way that was only ever reserved for her. "Let's do this. You ready?"

"Almost." Jake sputtered as she ran over to Flynn and Holmes. She gave each of them a hug, which was obviously an unprecedented action for Holmes.

"Why must you provide so many displays of affection?" he asked.

She ran on toward Baird and assaulted her with a hug as well. Baird returned it willingly.

She caught Ezekiel just as he was starting to climb a tree. Cassandra pulled him back to the bottom, to which elicited a yelp from the younger Librarians, and hugged him as well.

"Alright, alright. Good luck to you, too, Cassandra."

One last person. She ran over to Moriarty and squished her body up against him. He hesitantly patted her on the back.

When she finished she held him out at arm's length. "I don't know why you do that," he stated.

Cassandra smiled softly. "It's because I know how important it is to say goodbye."

She left him to ponder on that as she jogged back over to Jake. She squeaked as he embraced her in a hug of his own. "Don't think ya could leave me out on this, Cassie."

She grinned against his chest. "Of course not."

When he let go, he was serious. "Now, we have a job to do."

Moriarty's hands were shaking. That in itself was absurd. He was nervous to face Prospero after being so "fashionably" late as Jones had put it. The orb was pulsating colors in the rhythm of his heart beats, seeming to sense his fear and making no motion to nullify it.

It was true that he never felt like he had a place in his 19th-century novel. Unknowingly, Sherlock had touched upon that only mere hours before they left for this land. Thankfully, he'd ended up directing his statement toward Stone rather than to Moriarty.

Prospero was close. He could feel his pull even as he stood there.

It had taken no small amount of convincing from Baird to have Jones toss the fairy compass from the tree to (or more correctly, AT) Moriarty. He now stood in a clearing, waiting for Prospero, and hoping that everyone around was well and truly prepared.

And he had to hope that they were truly on his side.

"Ah, James Moriarty. I am surprised thou hath chosen to show up at all."

Prospero really had stopped his rhyming as Moriarty had requested before. "I ran into trouble with those Librarians and their Guardian. My apologies on the delay." This would be tricky, speaking only in truths.

"Trouble?" Prospero cooed, a small swirl of blue magic forming in the palm of his hand. Prospero didn't give him the impression of patience. "I do desire that does not mean you were unsuccessful. After all," the magician took a step closer, "that was the only task I bestowed upon thee."

He was referring to the powerful object, which was made more obvious when the magician's glinting eyes scanned the criminal's palm.

"This, here, is the object your little friend, Ariel, led me to when I asked her to search for the most powerful source of magic in the vicinity. Would you like to take a look?" Moriarty just needed Prospero to move a few steps closer. If he stepped into the sigil, his magic would be weakened.

Then Flynn wouldn't have much time to trap Prospero in the book.

Those beady eyes narrowed. "There is something you refuse to tell me. Speak now, villain."

Moriarty took a deep breath and quirked up an eyebrow. He could not fail this, not now, not with what Prospero knew. "There are many things I do not tell you. Perhaps you could understand my unwillingness to share."

Prospero hummed. "No. That is not it." He stared down his nose at the fictional. "What is this artifact?"

Moriarty swallowed. "It was labeled as the Angel Gem at the museum."

Prospero took a step forward, and Moriarty's breath caught in his throat. Only a few more steps. "I see. And what kind of trouble did thou find with the Librarians and their Guardian?"

"They captured me temporarily, but I still managed to find you." Awkward phrasing since he couldn't use the word escaped.

"So you tell me, villain." This time the word was spat, and it took every ounce of Moriarty's energy not to snarl right back. The Sphere, as though it sensed his disgruntled state, rumbled in a series of rapidly evolving colors. Moriarty bit his cheek as Prospero took another curious step forward.

"Interesting," he said, peering closer. "What is it detecting?"

"My irritation," Moriarty quipped.

Prospero's brows knitted in a frown. "It detects emotions?"

Moriarty sniffed and attempted a confident smile. "I do not know."

The magician's lips upturned in a snarl. "Then tell me, fool, what does this object do?"

His hands started to shake as he forced his jaw to a close. Not yet. He needed Prospero closer, needed to distract him longer so Cassandra and Stone could close the sigil around them.

Sherlock chose to make his appearance at that immediate point, emerging from the bushes with a gleam of deviltry in his eyes. Moriarty's heart began to pulse a little faster. "Why, hello." Sherlock's lips split into a cocky grin. "Have we met?"

Not his best entrance. Moriarty attempted to keep his expression neutral, halting a smile of all things, as Prospero's eyes narrowed into slits. "I see you have returned to me, Sherlock Holmes." Those eyes snapped to Moriarty, causing his body to turn stoic in fear. "What is thou doing here with thy foe?"

The question was directed at Sherlock, but his gaze still gripped Moriarty's. He wiped his empty palm against his pants leg.

Sherlock's hands were interlaced behind his back as he studied Prospero, those keen eyes scanning over every inch of him, taking in all the notes as to who this being was and what advantages he may have.

Moriarty remembered when Sherlock had done the same to him, seemingly unaware that Moriarty had crafted himself into a closed book.

The observations took seconds, and the detective prepared himself a response. "I often stay where I am familiar, Prospero. He is the only familiar being in this place, so naturally, I approached him."

Moriarty swallowed. That piece of crap. He was not saying what was planned. Sherlock was supposed to deny that he was willingly following Moriarty; he was supposed to say that he'd been keeping tabs on him without him noticing.

Prospero laughed sharply. "Is that so? Moriarty must have been most pleased."

The magician's gaze hardened. He was yanking at the fictional's leash, taunting him with the information only he and Ezekiel Jones knew. Sherlock, to no surprise of Moriarty's, noticed the power play.

"Pleased?" Sherlock sent a mischievous wink in Moriarty's direction. That's unlike him, he thought as he held back the flush of red. What did he notice about Prospero that I didn't? "I highly doubt that. He's been anything but amicable since I joined him."

"Oh, but it is so," Prospero drawled. There was a rustle in the tree above him, and Moriarty naturally looked up. Ezekiel was propped on one of the branches giving Moriarty a thumbs up. The sigil was finished. "After all, he does care about thee quite deeply."

Moriarty's blood chilled, and his heart began to stretch out his ribs.

Sherlock offered an indignant snort. "You have old information, I'm afraid. We were friends at one point, but then things changed. And after things changed, we threw each other off the side of a cliff. One would hardly call that caring."

Prospero moved that final step forward. Moriarty's whole body was beginning to shake now. "That may be how you perceived the event, Sherlock Holmes, but thou is mistaken."

Moriarty's clutch of the sphere hardened, and it emitted an ominous red. Don't say it.

Prospero shifted even closer to Sherlock. Why wasn't Carsen starting the incantation already? "Thou foe killed himself to give thee a chance of survival."

So rare were the moments when Sherlock was taken aback, and Moriarty usually enjoyed those moments with a wicked grin on his face. This time, however, he blanched as the detective turned to him with his eyebrows furrowed. "Moriarty? What is he talking about?"

The Sphere of Truth seeped the words from his throat easily so long as he stared in Sherlock's eyes. "When we fell from Reichenbach, Sherlock." Even his name rolled off his tongue so smoothly he felt a welt of spite form. "I- I positioned my body beneath you so that you may have a chance to survive."

Sherlock shook his head. "That is absurd, but…" He looked at Moriarty sidelong, "I have no choice but to believe you. Tell me, then. Why did you do it?"

Moriarty sighed, rattling his bones. "We were friends before, Sherlock. I much preferred that over being foes."

Prospero clapped sharply. "How emotional, my friends, but I must end our meeting. Sherlock Holmes shall return to where he belongs, and I presume such an undertaking will not be pleasant." He smiled at Moriarty. "Unless you wish otherwise."

"There is catch," said the fictional plainly, his grip on the orb tightening. Where were those bloody Librarians?

"Of course, villain. And I know thou will agree." That infernal smile widened, and he pulled a black, silk glove from his pocket. "First, hand me the Angel Gem."

"Gladly." Finally, it seemed that something could be going right. Finally.

But, as one would expect, Ezekiel Jones had to ruin it.

"Fair suck of the sav!" came from above followed shortly by a violent rustling and a crack.

"You are bloody kidding me," Moriarty deadpanned as Ezekiel fell to the ground before him.

The thief groaned.

"Some thief you are," Sherlock mused.

Prospero growled. "You dare to conspire against me? Fool!" No sooner did those words come that blue infiltrated the magician's fingers.

Moriarty gritted his lips and closed his eyes, bracing for that electric shock that always burned him to the very core.

"No!"

The impact never came.

Instead, the sounds of Ezekiel screaming battered his eardrums.

"Jones!"

Baird's frantic yell.

Moriarty stumbled back, cracking open his eyes to see the boy writhing on the ground before him.

A part of him snapped.

"Enough, Prospero! Withdraw your hand immediately, or I will ensure that my last act here will be to kill you!"

The zapping stopped. The boy was gasping. A quick glance to the side ensured that Baird was, indeed, running towards them, a frantic, motherly haze shrouding her eyes.

"James Moriarty," Prospero hissed, "that offer only stands so long as thou lives."

And now a transparent hand was grabbing his neck, choking the air from his lungs.

And now the incantation was being read.

And now the darkness was flooding his vision.

Something had gone wrong.

Before Flynn had taken this detail seriously, he'd exclaimed, "Called it!" earning a much-deserved glare from Eve. And a slap to the back of his head.

He'd rubbed the spot, accepting the fact that what he said was stupid.

Cassandra blinked owlishly in front of him. "What are we supposed to do?" she asked. "What isn't working?"

Flynn didn't bother asking if there was something incorrect from a mathematical standpoint, seeing as Cassandra must have already gone through every possible problem before approaching the older Librarian. "This plan isn't working. That's the problem."

Plans didn't always work, but maybe some spontaneity could.

"I need to get Jenkins. You finished making the satanic pentagram correct?"

"That isn't what it's called, but yes."

Good, good, good. Not really, but positivity would do.

"What're you planning?" Jake asked, suspicion lacing each word. Rightfully so.

"Nothing! I'll be back. Keep distracting him and do what you do whatever that is and good luck even though you're all screwed."

And that was when Flynn literally ran away. As in, a dead sprint.

Baird frowned. Flynn just ran away, bringing their last chance of trapping Moriarty with him. "Crap," she said.

Jake nodded. "Yeah, um. Okay. That just happened." He lifted his eyebrows and looked toward Cassandra. "Any idea what he'd doing?"

She shook her head. "No clue."

That was when the screaming started. Baird stiffened, her eyes wide. "Ezekiel," she whispered. She turned to the two Librarians. "Stay here and wait for Flynn. I'm going to get Ezekiel."

"But-" began Cassandra, but Baird was already gone. She brushed a hand through her hair. "We can't just stand here," she said.

Jake shook his head. "You're right. But I 'ave a feeling Flynn's gonna need our help."

Cassandra's shoulders slumped. "Fine. Unless he takes too long. In that case-"

"I'm back, I'm back, I'm back!" came the telling. Flynn darted from the shrubbery gasping for air. "I'm… back. Whew. Jenkins!" He spun in all directions. "Jenkins!"

"Right here, sir." Sure enough, Jenkins ambled into view.

Cassandra frowned. "That was remarkably fast."

"Good! You brought it?"

"Of course, sir."

Jake shook his head. "Found what? What happened?"

"Oh, good! You two are still here." Flynn held out the book. Take this. Jenkins and I are going to weaken his powers since the pentagram isn't working. Unfortunately, that means using a magic artifact, but that's okay for now. Cassandra, you're going to lead Stone to a spot exactly fourteen meters from where Prospero is standing. Once you're there," he fished a piece of paper from his pocket and gave it to Cassandra, "you'll read off this, and Stone will be reading from the bookmarked page in The Tempest. Jenkins and I will be reinforcing your abilities in a way. We need to move quickly, otherwise Prospero will probably kill us all or something drastic I DON'T KNOW. Got everything?"

"No," said Jake as Cassandra said, "Yup!"

"Fantastic, now go!" Flynn shooed them away.

Cassandra bustled on, followed shortly by Jake on her heels. "How is this plan any better?" he asked her as they ran in the direction of Prospero.

"Because Flynn said so," Cassandra assured.

They made it there just in time to see Prospero holding out a hand and Moriarty falling as Ezekiel was hauled out of harm's way by Baird.

Jake shared a look with Cassandra.

She nodded.

Jake opened The Tempest as Cassandra unfolded her paper, and they both began reading their respective pieces.

Cliffhanga'.

My most sincere apologies.

Reviews are always extremely appreciated, as they are quite honestly the things that keep me going.

Predictions (and ideas) as to where the story goes next would be awesome, if you so choose to leave something like that.

And also: what are your favorite relationships/pairings in the story (including purely platonic ones)? I'm trying to figure out which ones I should delve into more, so I'd love ideas!

Thanks for reading!