Sherlock walked to the door and carefully opened it. Poking his head outside, he saw no one. As he was closing the door however, from the down the hall he heard a vaguely Irish voice call in a hushed tone, "Sher~lock~..."
The Consulting Detective froze for a moment before stepping out of the apartment, quietly closing the door behind himself.
At that moment John woke up a bit. "Sherlock...?"
He could hear Sherlock moving down the hall.
He got out of bed and followed after him.
"Who are you?" Sherlock called down the hall.
"John Watson is hiding something, Sherlock... Can you trust him?" A voice replied.
"Who is this? Show yourself!"
"How do you know whether or not he's telling the truth?"
'I'm not hiding anything.' John thought as he listened.
"I trust him!"
"But should you?" The voice sounded like Moriarty.
Sherlock said nothing in response to this.
John rushed over. "Come out, Moriarty!"
Sherlock looked over at John as Moriarty fell silent.
"Have nothing to say now, hmm?"
Moriarty emerged from around the corner. "Aah, good old Dr. Watson. Or should I just call you John? You don't really have any special type of rank..."
"What are you talking about?" Sherlock cut in. "He was an army doctor in Afghanistan!"
"He's lying to you, Sherlock. Tsk, tsk, tsk."
"Why are you doing this, Moriarty?"
Moriarty shrugged, a confident smirk on his face. "Look, Sherlock. He even knows who I am."
"So what?"
"We've met."
"Your point?"
"You and I however, haven't. Where are my manners! I'm Jim Moriarty. I've decided to save you from the lies your so-called friend spews at you."
Sherlock glared at Moriarty, though he looked almost uncertain as to where he stood in his conflict.
"I haven't lied to Sherlock!"
"It breaks my heart how even now, while he is so vulnerable, you would still keep up the facade." Moriarty said, feigned sadness in his voice. "Who do you trust more, Sherlock?"
"I..."
"I, unlike the good doctor here, am not afraid to admit that I admire you greatly, Sherlock. I would never lie to you. Not when we are so much alike..." The criminal said maliciously.
"Don't trust him, Sherlock! He killed one person already and sent another to the hospital just to mess with your head!"
Sherlock stepped closer to Moriarty. "You... You're the killer..."
"Am I?" Moriarty asked. This one question seemed to make Sherlock recoil in uncertainty. "For all you know, Sherlock, John could be the killer. Think about it. He lives with you. No one would suspect him; they'd all suspect you."
Sherlock swallowed hard. "John would never."
"He's already killed for you once." Moriarty said with a shrug, revealing he knew more about them than they had given him credit for.
"That was to save his life! He would have died if I didn't!"
"My point is, Sherlock... Can you really trust anyone?"
Sherlock again gulped, this time staying silent.
"Oh, come on. Follow me, Sherlock. You're clever. I'm clever. John's an idiot. Who can you trust more with your fate; someone just like you, who can appreciate you, or an idiot who just thinks you're a friend?"
John's heart sank as those words stung him hard.
"I choose J-"
"Oh, Sherlock, you want so dearly to be an idiot so that everyone will accept you... You don't have to be! I'll accept you the way you are. I'm the only person that will. The only creature that will, at least after..." Moriarty paused and cocked his head to the side. "... Redbeard."
Sherlock's eyes widened at that name, and his jaw fell a bit slack. The name appeared to mean a lot to him for some reason, so much so that he was now petrified.
John didn't say anything to counter; he knew he lost as he hung his head at the thought of losing the greatest friend he'd ever had.
"So now... Choose a side, Sherlock. Are you going to be an idiot and stay on the side of the angels, or will you join me? I mean, look at John. He's surrendered. He's given up on you already, Sherlock."
Sherlock took a step backwards, closer to John.
"Hm?"
"I choose John."
"Oh, don't be stupid. Get over here, c'mon."
"I choose John." Sherlock repeated. "I will always choose John. The day I don't is the day Sherlock Holmes is dead."
"Well, one Sherlock Holmes is already dead inside you. It died with Redbeard."
"And it lives with John Watson." Sherlock replied determinedly.
Hope rose in John as he looked at Sherlock and then suddenly hugged him tightly.
Sherlock froze up for a moment, startled by the hug, but soon relaxed.
"I see. You still like your pets more than people." Moriarty groaned. "I wonder how hard you would fall if I put him down..."
Sherlock proceeded to wrap his arms around John, holding him close protectively, close enough for John to feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest and his quick breathing.
"Maybe another time. Wrong day to die, Sherlock." Moriarty pivoted around and looked at them over his shoulder. "Please do watch out for the sands of time, Sherlock... For they will fall on your new dog much faster than they will on you and I."
Sherlock seemed to pull John even closer with that remark as Moriarty laughed.
John teared up and hugged Sherlock tighter.
"I'll be seeing you, Sherlock. Until then." Moriarty casually left them there, disappearing around the corner and heading for the stairwell.
Sherlock let out a huff of relief and leaned his head against John's.
"Thank you, Sherlock..."
"Did you really think I'd leave you? Maybe you really are an idiot..." He teased gently, smiling a bit and closing his eyes.
"Don't ever leave me..."
Sherlock pressed their foreheads together. "I'd never leave you, John." He breathed.
John teared up happily and snuggled into him.
Sherlock's face flushed a bit as he kept his arms wrapped around the shorter man.
He smiled happily.
Sherlock was content like this.
"Sherlock...?"
"Yes, John...?"
"I-I..."
Sherlock opened his eyes, gazing at John curiously. As they were still very close together, John could feel Sherlock's heart rate speed up a tad.
John suddenly kissed him.
Sherlock's eyes widened and his body tensed from the abruptness of the kiss. It only took him a few seconds, however, to seem to relax again, and he closed his eyes, awkwardly trying to return the kiss.
The shorter man continued the kiss.
Sherlock placed one of his hands on the back of John's neck as he continued to accept and return the kiss. He was a surprising good kisser, considering he wasn't one to engage in anything like this very often.
John moaned a bit as the kiss continued.
Sherlock took his sweet time in breaking the kiss.
John panted a bit as the kiss was broken.
Sherlock rolled his eyes at himself. "Oh, to hell with it." He muttered before he kissed John again, harder and more passionately this time.
John kissed back with the same passion.
Sherlock stumbled back, pulling John along, until he was leaning back against a wall, his fingers running through the good doctor's short hair.
John smiled as he chuckled happily.
The kiss broken again, Sherlock chuckled a bit as well. "Looks like we do have some chemistry..." He mumbled.
"It seems so, Sherlock." smiled John.
After a brief moment of silence, Sherlock cleared his throat. "I... That was... good. I enjoyed that." He stammered.
"So did I."
"We should... get some more rest..."
"Agreed."
Being trapped against the wall by John, Sherlock quietly stayed still, staring at him.
John blushed a bit as he tried to let Sherlock up.
The Consulting Detective stood upright, brushing himself off and adjusting his Belstaff coat nervously.
John blushed as well as he helped Sherlock back to the room.
"Why, uh... Why did you kiss me there, anyway?" Sherlock asked innocently enough.
"B-because I... I love you, Sherlock..." the doctor blushed heavily.
Sherlock's pale face flushed once more. He'd had the haunting suspicion that was the case, but he had dismissed it as being stupid to think John liked him at all. Now that he knew it wasn't so stupid after all, he was stunned into silent admiration. He simply stared at John with wide eyes, his lips parted slightly, not saying a word.
John blushed even more.
Sherlock suddenly kissed him once again.
He happily kissed back.
They somehow ended up tripping up and falling over the bed.
John heavily blushed.
"Oh, I... I'm sorry, I didn't realize how close the bed was..." Sherlock chuckled nervously as he tried to get back up.
"It's quite alright, Sherlock. I don't mind."
Sherlock looked down at him. He was going in for another kiss when suddenly one of the two cellphones in John's pocket started to ring.
John grumbled and answered it.
It was Sherlock's phone that received the call. The person on the other end, a voice John didn't recognize, asked, "Is Mr. Holmes there?"
"Who is calling for him?" he asked.
"Someone who is interested in meeting the world's only Consulting Detective." was the answer the calm, deep man's voice gave.
Sherlock looked at John questioningly, wondering quietly if the call was for him.
"It's for you, Sherlock." he said as he handed him the phone.
Sherlock took the cellphone and put it to his ear. "Who is this?"
He silently listened to the person on the other end of the phone, and soon slowly stood up, appearing a bit horrified by whatever he was hearing. "How do you know this? What do you want from me?"
John quickly looked over at Sherlock.
Sherlock's lips were quivering ever so slightly. "... Fine. I'll be there." After a pause, he added with obedience in his voice, "Alone. Goodbye, Mr. Magnussen." With that, he slowly moved the phone away from his ear and vacantly ended the call.
"Sherlock? Sherlock, what happened?"
"I need to go. I want you to follow, but lag behind enough to not be caught." Sherlock readjusted his coat and his scarf and started heading for the door, not even bothering to explain anything.
"Understood."
He pivoted around in the doorway, shaking the phone in his hand a bit. "Is this phone mine? I couldn't help but notice you're listed as a contact on it."
"Yes, that is your phone."
"I'll text you the address."
"Please be careful."
Sherlock left, as he walked down the halls, he text John the address to a small cafe near Baker Street.
John carefully followed him.
The Consulting Detective walked far ahead of him, stumbling every few steps, and glancing at his phone. He was likely using a digital map to figure out where he was going if he had deleted his mental map of London from his head.
John continued to follow far behind.
Soon he watched as Sherlock came to the front of the cafe. Parked in front of it was a black limousine, and as he cautiously approached, one of the doors opened, and out stepped a man with a suit and glasses.
"Welcome, Mr. Holmes." greeted the man as he stepped closer to Sherlock, who took half a pace back. The man reached out, presumably for a handshake, but upon giving the man his hand, Sherlock was surprised to have his hand kissed the way one would greet a woman of great beauty.
John was startled to see this.
"Please," The man gestured to the inside of the limo. "Grace me with your presence for a while. Let me take you on a drive, perhaps a night on the town."
"What's this about?" Sherlock asked.
"I want to get to know what I don't already know about you."
"And what would that be?"
The man looked Sherlock up and down, seemingly checking him out. Sherlock dismissed this gaze as meaning nothing. "I know everything about you emotionally. However, physically... I'm curious." He said innocently.
Sherlock didn't understand. "Excuse me?"
"Please, step into the limousine, Mr. Holmes."
John growled softly as he started to feel jealous.
Sherlock was shaking his head when the somewhat-taller man clamped his hand down on his shoulder and whispered something, his mouth close to Sherlock's ear. Whatever he whispered seemed to scare Sherlock, and next thing John knew, the Consulting Detective was stepping into the limousine, being assisted by the man.
Adjusting his glasses, the suited man looked over in John's direction as if he knew he was there, and smirked slightly.
John couldn't wait any longer and ran towards the car. "Let him go!" he yelled at him.
The man quickly stepped into the limousine himself, closing the door behind him as the vehicle started to move.
John tried to run faster to catch up.
It was no use.
He slowly stopped running.