AN- And here we are again. Sorry about the cliffhanger from last week. Actually, I'm not. But if it makes you feel better then I apologise. Enjoy.
B
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"No. Absolutely not." John was adamant, he'd let Moriarty ride in the cab with him to the Yard but there was no way in hell he was going to let the man walk in there.
"You know you don't really have a say in this." Jim cooed, sweeping a strand of John's hair behind his ear. The doctor turned as much as he could in the confines of the cab so he could face his partner properly.
"No. You are not going in there. I will go in and get Sherlock out and try my absolute hardest not to murder Lestrade. You will stay out here where I know that you are not going to get caught by the Yard and the Yarders aren't going to get murdered by you. Stay. Here." Without waiting for a reply, John slid out of the cab and walked into Scotland Yard, a silent fury building up inside him.
He was met almost immediately by the sneering Sergeant Donavan and the forensic detective, Anderson.
"I told you to keep away from him." Sally quipped. Anderson sniggered.
"The Freak wouldn't know where to begin, I bet his pet wanted to be thrown about, probably begged for it." He retorted. The two officers broke into a fit of giggles. John glared at them both and marched straight past, heading for DI Lestrades office.
Greg looked up from his desk as John Watson stormed in, he had hoped it would have taken a little longer for the doctor to realise that they had taken in the detective, just long enough that they could find a little more substantial evidence that it was him committing the crimes.
"Let him out. Now." John's voice was dark and foreboding. The DI sighed and stood up from his desk.
"Look John." He stated. "It's for the best, I've seen too many people fall down this hole. You don't have to put up with it, John." His voice was pleading for the doctor not to argue but it was in vain.
"I'm not dead yet, Lestrade, and I have told you that it's not Sherlock. I will swear in court that it's not Sherlock. Let. Him. Go." The detective inspector walked round so that he was in front of the desk, closer to John but still over arms distance away.
"Look, it only takes on time. It looks as though you've been pushed into a fair amount of walls, what if you get pushed down the stairs. Broken bones, you could die, John. You say you're not dead yet but you could be tomorrow. You could be later on today-" There was a commotion outside. John felt his blood run cold, he knew exactly what the commotion was, though he wished an axe murderer had ran inside instead.
John and Lestrade stepped out of the office.
"Johnny, there you are." Jim's high voice and faux smile cut through every person in the room. "After I told you not to come here, you still do. And I thought I had you trained." John felt the DI still beside him.
"I know how childish this sound but I told you so." John hissed. The Irishman cocked his head, smirk still plastered on his face.
"Johnny, I'm waiting." He called. The doctor felt the entire room staring at him. He swallowed his pride and walked forward until he was stood in front of his partner. The soldier stayed standing, glaring defiantly into Jim's eyes, or more correctly into the black abyss behind them.
"Don't tell me you've forgotten your place already, Johnny." The dark haired man growled. John almost collapsed to his knees, hitting the floor slightly harder than he wanted to. "That's better." He hummed.
Jim was suddenly aware of the people moving behind him. "I wouldn't try sneaking up on me if I were you." He stated coldly, whipping out a small pocket knife and placing the blade to John's neck, right on top of the artery. "One move and this doctor is a bloody heap on the floor." John wanted desperately to look up to Moriarty but he dutifully kept his eyes to the ground, he knew the criminal would show no hesitation in punishing him for stepping out of line, even if it was just an act. Around them, all weapons were dropped and the officers stepped back so they were all against the wall. Jim's smile flickered and he removed the knife, placing it back in his pocket.
"I do believe they have no reason to keep your darling Shirley in shackles. That is a shame." He trailed a finger under John's chin, raising the doctors head so he now looked at his face. "I'm sure you can make it up to me, though." Jim chuckled. The blond doctor gulped, he heard the truth behind that last sentence.
"Jim, please." He begged quietly.
Moriarty chuckled again and let his fingers slide off the other males' face. He then turned to the detective inspector.
"Go release Shirley." He ordered. The DI held his ground all of two seconds before quickly leaving. Jim watched him leave then dragged John to his feet by his hair.
"We best go before the backup arrives, do you think?" He purred, pecking a kiss on the doctors nose. John hesitate and Jim scowled.
"Your precious Shirley will be let out, I think Scotland Yard knows I don't take kindly to disobedience. Come on." He turned on the balls of his feet and exited the room. The doctor followed after him, his limp becoming more pronounced as his leg protest from being thrown to the ground.
The cab ride back to 221b was completely silent, John sat pressed against the door, as far away from Moriarty as possible. When they reached the flat, John got out and walked straight up into the house without waiting for the criminal. By the time Jim got inside, the doctor was in his room with the door locked. After spending two minutes picking the lock, the Irishman found out that John had gone and put a sliding lock on his side of the door as well, a lock which couldn't be picked. He scowled in annoyance and rapped his knuckles on the door.
"Johnny? Johnny, let me in please." There was no answer. The criminal paced for a few moments then tried again. "Johnny? Don't sulk, I got Sherlock freed didn't I? They won't be thinking you're being beaten up by him anymore." Still no reply. 'Answer me or I'm breaking this door down!' He threatened.
Finally, the consulting criminal lost his patience entirely and kicked the door hard, forcing it open. John was nowhere to be seen. On closer inspection, the window was thrown open wide. Jim swore profoundly. He'd been duped by the same escape twice. Growling about how he was going to bolt that window then board it up from the outside, the criminal ran downstairs. He was about to walk out the door when he realised that Sherlock's bedroom door was closed though when he'd past it earlier it had been open just a crack. Jim crept over and opened the door. Two figures lay on the bed, wrapped in the covers.
"Go away." A deep voice murmured lowly. Jim blinked, surely the detective couldn't have gotten back so quickly. Sherlock raised his head, soon followed by John, they both looked over at the criminal.
"I don't interrupt you when you're fucking John, I'd appreciate the same courtesy, thank you." Sherlock growled. Moriarty blinked, he thought it would take a little longer than three and a half minutes for both Sherlock and John to get into the bedroom, undressed and in the bed.
"You got Sherlock out before going to the DI." Jim accused the doctor. John shrugged.
"Of course I did, I knew Lestrade wasn't going to let him out and it was only a matter of time before you burst in, so I went and got Sherlock first. You're both right, you know. Scotland Yard security is shit." After speaking, the soldier dived back under the covers. Sherlock gave Jim a smug glance and followed him. Moriarty thought about staying for a moment then walked out, he didn't want to see John with his rival in that way. Ever.
As soon as the consulting criminal left the room, John and Sherlock came back up from beneath the covers.
"Well that got rid of him." John sighed. Sherlock thought for a moment then began trailing his hands over the doctors skin.
"You know, it would be a shame to waste this time." He murmured. John shivered and shifted away slightly. The detective quickly removed his hand, looking rejected.
"No no, It's not like that!" John said quickly, grabbing hold of Sherlock's arm. "I just, I mean after this morning, I just don't think I have another round in me." He explained. Sherlock nodded, the one time he wanted this, Jim had stopped him from having it. Then again, the criminal would just take, he didn't care if John had 'another round' in him or not.
"I'm not going out tonight though." John stated, twirling his fingers on the bed sheets. "If you could keep Jim away from me long enough, we can spend the night." He suggested. Sherlock smiled crookedly.
"And the following day?" He asked, giving his best puppy dog expression. The soldier chuckled and ran his hand through his flatmates dark, curly hair.
"Sure."
About an hour later, John remerged from the bed room with Sherlock close on his heels, watching over him like a hawk. Jim walked over and tried to slink an arm around the doctor but Sherlock batted it away.
"He is mine of the rest of today and the whole of tomorrow at least. You've had him to yourself for the best part of the last month and a half." The detective snapped, wrapping his arms around John's chest from behind. His criminal enemy scowled at him.
"It's not my fault you've had cases. Do you want me to just leave Johnny by himself when you're off shining your brilliance on the world?" He snapped in disgust.
"No, I just don't want you screwing him every chance you get. He's not your personal fuck toy!" Sherlock shrieked back.
John sighed, trapped between the bickering men.
"Seriously guys." The doctor called, his arms still pinned to his sides by Sherlock behind him. "Just cool it, will you? I know that neither of you are good at sharing but for Gods sake, sort this out like adults." Jim scoffed and Sherlock snarled at him, moving John away from the criminal even more.
"I'm serious." John warned. "You two sort this out now or I'm going to go and visit my mother for a week or several." Sherlock froze behind him and Jim had an aghast look on his face.
John's mother was a whirlwind of a woman, her emotions changed by the minute and she was the most obvious person that John knew, and that was saying something. Sherlock had had to speak with her once and had only managed thirty seconds before he'd turned to John begging to be released from the torture. Jim had seen the woman, well of course, he knew the benefit of becoming friends with the mother of a partner. She'd seen right past his ruse from the beginning and had immediately thrown him out of the house. John had found out moments later when his mum rung him up.
"You wouldn't." Jim said, the certainty in his voice more directed at himself than John. "You can't stand being in that house either." John smiled sweetly.
"Yes but I'd rather have mother judging my every move and trying to teach me to cook to her standards than be sat between the two of you while you're bickering over me." He answered, slipping out of Sherlock's grip and moving towards the kitchen.
When he was out of sight, the two genii stared at each other.
"He wouldn't…" Sherlock said quietly, not sure.
"He would." Jim affirmed, not in any way happy about it.
