Author's Notes: Hiya, dears! :D So here's the new chapter. Moriarty has left Sherlock quite...helpless the last time. ;) Enjoy :D! I've already begun writing the next chapter :). Things will start to get a bit bloody from now on and such...be warned :)! Or at least a heck lot angsty. :)

Disclaimer : As previously.

Hope you like it! :D

Please, review!

Knowing you guys like it keeps me writing it. :)!

Truth Or Lie

Chapter 7. Self-Interrogation

Sherlock was now fiddling rapidly with his fingers, and tapping his foot on his study's floor. Last night had been quite disturbing and confusing, he just couldn't help pondering over what was wrong with Moriarty. Well, everything, but you know what Sherlock meant... He hadn't slept at all. It's not like he hadn't tried! No, no. He'd laid down many times on his sofae, but panicked, and with his head filled with so many questions, he just continuously kept on springing back on his feet.

Sherlock glanced at his wristwatch, then grumbled something about John still showing sign of his absence. His companion wasn't back from his little jaunt yet, and it was 7:00 AM. He'd sure hear a word or two about this...Pff! Leaving his friend, a detective on dangerous cases. Plus, Moriarty had come back! How had he dared, that ex-Afghanistan doctor?

''Nevermind... For now!'' Sherlock mumbled before pushing himself on his feet from the sofa he tried to sit still on, but failed at each and every attempt. And there had been countless ones.

He walked down to the kitchen, feeling dizzy and finding support on the walls. When he entered the room, he looked around slowly; he had gone there with no precise idea in mind, but the one to think about something different from what made him have a sleepless night. His eyes fell on the tea caddy, then on the kette placed on the counter. He walked to it, put his fingers around the handle, and poured water from the sink in it.

''... What was he here for? I can assume without a doubt it wasn't for a pizza crust, and a nice old little stupid chitchat like common people can't seem to stop having. No, he had something on his mind; something else than kissing, and this whole nice act...'' he sighed, bent over the sink.

Sherlock straightened up, and went to plug the kettle in the wall for it to boil. He leaned on the counter near it, and kept on trying to find the precise reason why Moriarty had paid him a visit he surely could have lived without, other than to simply annoy the heck out of him (which was working quite well, by the way...).

''Yergh... I can't believe he really kissed me! It's disgusting...'' he grimaced, touching his lips slightly. ''Let's say it wasn't what I had expected for a first kiss. Not that I actually was expecting one in my entire life... It would've been ''normally'' possible if I weren't a highly functioning sociopath. But, oh well, at least I've experienced what it was like...''

The sound of boiling water got him out of his confusion. Sherlock grabbed the nearest cup, put a tea bag in it, then poured hot water till it reached the cup's border. Sherlock then sat down at the table, and took a sip of the hot and fuming tea before continuing his mental search for clues and hints.

''He's acting like this on purpose. It's certainly a decoy. Because, let's be honest, he couldn't have fallen in love with me after such a short time... The quests, and the few, though thrilling, meetings. Plus, he's totally not the type to fall in love nor have a relationship; he's cruel, shows no apparent sign of care about human life. He also gets bored easily, doesn't see the purpose of dating, is a criminal who doesn't have time for anything else than his little games, and surely needs to be intellectually stimulated. In other words : he's a criminal me. So, this leaves : decoy and plan. Now, the way he suggestivelylooked at me quite-''

''Sorry, Sherlock! Thought I'd make it home earlier...''

The apartment door creaked as it closed, then Watson appeared right before him, looking a bit lost or in thoughts. Either one seemed to describe him perfectly at that moment. Sherlock stared at him as if a dead person had come to life.

''AH! THERE YOU ARE! Please, next time, simply do like you did, it's perfect! Just tell me you're going to dinner with Sarah, then never give me a call about you coming home the next morning, so I can stay up all night worrying about your whereabouts! Oh! Also, there's an evil, sadistic mastermind on the loose who's after ME! But I guess it didn't cross your mind... God! THANKS! What kind of friend are you?''

And with a last glare and ''tsk!'' at his companion, he stormed into the kitchen. Watson simply sighed, shook his head, and took his time before following him.

''I said : I'm sorry, Sherlock! Plus, I've got a cellphone, you know.''

''So?'' asked Sherlock's tense and cold voice as he rummaged through the cupboards for nothing in particular but to avoir the doctor's intense stare on him.

''Well... You could've called me at anytime to know what I was doing, and knowing you, I'm sure you wouldn't even have hesitated... So! That means you were busy trying to solve an enigma OR since you've mentioned Moriarty, he unfortunately paid you a visit while I was gone...'' Watson explained.

He sighed, then tapped the wooden floor with his cane. Sherlock froze on the spot, arm stretched and one hand around a cupboard's handle, and turned his dubitative face towards John.

''How did you get so good at deducing?''

''Well...'' he paused, pouting slightly and shifting from foot to foot. ''I'm learning from the best...''

And with a wink and a complice smile, he walked to the living room, and sat on the sofa Sherlock had had troubles falling asleep on. The consulting detective let out a gasp of surprise and pride, then went to sit next to his only friend.

''So... What happened?'' asked Watson after a long silence.

''Well...He came over, ate, and...threatened me. The usual with him,'' he lied partly.

He figured telling Watson Moriarty kissed him and tried to charm (was it even the right term?) wouldn't be the best thing ever. First, it would only make Watson worry even more. Second, he'd probably try on getting Sherlock to give him more information about the kiss and if he liked it whatsoever... Stupid, human behavioral habits... He'd probably ask again about his sexuality, which Sherlock wasn't too eager on discussing again... The scene of Watson telling him it was ''fine'' to have a boyfriend in a restaurant, and him harshly and coldly replying ''I know it's fine!'' popped up in his mind. Sherlock blinked multiple times, then rushed to grab his coat on the coat hanger.

''He came to eat? What the—Sherlock! Where are you going?''

Sherlock stopped right in front of the door, then slowly turned to face Watson.

''I need to get out of here! To clear my mind, and just... Follow me!'' he said with an icy stare that wouldn't wait for a retort of any sort. He sure was not going to spend any more minute in here without getting some good air...He just wanted to get as far away in case Moriarty had planned on coming back in the morning. Plus, he hoped it'd help him find some answers to all this...madness...Because yes, this made no sense. Unless it was a decoy or a plan for something much more terrible...

Watson frowned, and licked his lips in questioning. Though, there was no arguing with Sherlock. So, he sighed and followed him out of the apartment reluctantly.

''I had just come back...'' he whined under his breath.