AUTHOR'S NOTE: As always it seems, I am apologizing for taking too long on this update. Suffice it to say that I simply put too much on my plate. Along with RL and internet issues, I am just now beginning to catch up. Here is our Long-awaited confrontation, I hope it is satisfying and everything you guys could hope for in a climax. Still a few chapters to wrap things up and enjoy some much deserved Fluff! Thank you So Very Much to Spades who has done nothing but make this story better ever since she came on board! I don't think I can ever thank her enough or convince her of the depths of my gratitude so go show her some love for me. :) Off to the story guys! I hope you enjoy and that it is worth the long wait. Thank you all for reading, reviewing, favoriting, and following me on this terrific ride. Sincerely, Cynthia
{*} {*} {*}
Moriarty gazed at the earnest young fool sitting across from him. Two fingers rubbed absently over his temple while his other hand drummed rhythmically on the arm of his chair. He hated insubordination as much as incompetence.
"So, despite my specific instructions to the contrary, you took it upon yourself to infiltrate the Holmes estate; subsequently getting yourself captured and detained for a month. Can you explain to me why someone as powerful as Mycroft Holmes, would see fit to keep a lowly peon such as yourself under wraps?" His voice was utterly calm, the glimmer of a smile playing at the edge of his mouth and one eyebrow cocked in question as he waited on the lad.
Seb watched it all in silence; well aware of the tightly reined fury so carefully disguised by his mercurial boss. The poor kid was too dumb to realize the danger he was in and Seb almost felt sorry for the bastard. Almost.
The rookie thug leaned forward eagerly in his chair, "He didn't want me to be able to tell you what I found." Moriarty spared a flick of his eyes towards Seb before returning his attention to the young man as he spoke again. "It's all a big secret, you see. All hush-hush because they know you are looking." He smiled broadly preparing to deliver the coup de gras to his employer; certain he was about to be well rewarded for his suffering and silence these past weeks. "I found him, sir. I found Watson."
Moriarty's hand dropped from his temple and the fingers stilled on his chair. As irate as he was with his inept flunky, this was actually information he wanted. The hint of a smile grew to a small smirk, "Did you? That is good to hear. Details. NOW!"
There was a noticeable flinch but the lad continued. "He's at the estate. Living there it seems. But that is not even the best part, sir. The reason he's there and has been in hiding all these months... Watson is pregnant. And several months along from the looks of him." The triumph on the young man's face was clear when he saw his boss's face break into a wide maniacal grin.
Jim laced his fingers together and put his hands behind his head as he propped his Italian leather clad feet on his desk. He couldn't stop the smile as he gave Seb a look.
"Well, well Sebby. What do you make of that? Holmes got his little Omega knocked up and then tried to hide him from me. How quaint. How pedestrian of him. How Boring!" He knew there was more to this game than hiding a pregnant mate. There was always more when it can to the games he and Holmes played. But this time, it wasn't a game and he needed the good doctor in order to destroy Holmes completely. He glanced over at the rookie, too stupid to know he had been played... used. They allowed the boy to bring him this information for some reason. The game was changing and he would have to stay on his toes. He let his smile drop as he gave the boy a sharp stare. "Why do you suppose they released you?" He could almost read the smug response before the boy spoke. He watched the eager young imbecile puff up like a proud peacock and forced himself not to roll his eyes.
"I escaped, sir," the young man proudly declared. "When they were moving me, I picked a good location and pretended I had to go to the lav really bad." He smiled, "The goons transporting me weren't very smart. They let me go in and only guarded the door. I was out of the bathroom window and away before they knew what happened." He smiled at his own cleverness; practically tasting his reward now.
"WRONG! You fucking imbecile!" The furious outburst finally wiped the smug smile from the boy's face as he began to look uncertain. "They could have kept you forever without any reason at all. And I seriously doubt they even questioned you more than once or twice, they do know the bottom dregs of my organization on sight." The man began to protest but the weight of Seb's hand on his shoulder silenced him sharply. "They knew all along you had next to no information to give them. So it comes down to this, they kept you to keep their secret, yes. But they were not careless, you boring, witless child! They let you escape! You didn't even once think it was too easy for a two-bit thug like you to get away from trained government agents?" Moriarty glared, his discerning gaze raking over the stunned lad before he mumbled to himself, "Of course you didn't." He shook his head slightly, determined to make the boy understand the way their world worked. "They released you knowing you would run straight to me with your news. They released you because they chose for me to have this knowledge at this particular point. I don't tolerate disobedience in my organisation and I simply will not tolerate imbeciles. All you have done is serve as the perfect pawn in their gambit." Jim put his feet down and crossed his hands demurely on his desk as he leaned forward again, his voice nearly a whisper now. "You don't play chess do you, pet?" When the only reply was a quiet shake of the head, Jim muttered to himself again, "I shouldn't even be surprised." Focusing once more he continued, his dark gaze pinning the boy to his seat. "A pawn is the smallest piece on the board. It also happens to be the most dispensable. And as such, I find I no longer have need of your services." Jim turned his chair around, dismissing the young man as he stared out of the window. He was already calculating the effects this latest move and news would have on his plans. For Jim, the young man simply ceased to exist.
However the pawn had other ideas. He had worked hard and suffered for a reward. He was not going to just walk out of here with nothing. He began to complain and demand his due from the little pipsqueak who thought he was some kind of modern day Napoleon. Even while the goon tried to show him out, the young man persisted, growing louder as he was ignored.
The growing racket finally disturbed Moriarty's contemplation and he sighed loudly. "Sebby dear, there is so much noise! It's giving Daddy such a headache and you know how cross I get. Take care of it, would you, love"
The blustering fool barely had a moment to register the danger before Seb took a step forward and snapped his neck cleanly with one sharp twist, letting the body drop to the floor at his feet without a second thought.
Jim glanced back over his shoulder and smiled, batting his eyes in that coquettish manner he liked to use at times. "Thank you Sebby. You're always so good to me, it's much better now." Seb merely stood waiting for his next orders while Jim's gaze raked over him, growing hungrier by the second. He was not surprised when Jim spoke, "Come here, Sebby. Daddy gets so turned on watching you work." Seb glanced at the body, glassy eyes staring up at them still. He knew most people would be turned off by a body and dead eyes staring at them but both men had been around death so much that it didn't phase either of them. Jim merely smiled as he reached to unfasten his trousers. "You can take care of the trash later. Daddy feels like celebrating."
Seb stepped over the body on the office rug, intent on keeping his boss happy. Jim might be a sick fuck but Seb wasn't complaining.
It was barely a half hour later as Seb groaned for release, bent over the expensive desk with his trousers around his ankles. While Jim buried himself balls deep in Seb's ass, biting fiercely over his shoulder blade and drawing blood as he came. Seb was used to the rough treatment and waited patiently for the small hand that wrapped languidly around him and finally allowed his release. He was never certain if Jim got off on watching him kill on his command or just liked to fuck over a fresh kill. Either way, they both lay sprawled over the desk, catching their breath with the fresh body still in plain sight.
Seb heard a soft chuckle behind him and couldn't stop the small hitch in his breathing as Jim licked sweat and blood from his back before yanking his head back harshly for a filthy kiss. When he released Seb's lips, Jim smiled darkly. "Our Little Johnny is pregnant Seb." There was the briefest moment of obvious glee before the blank mask slipped into place and Moriarty once more took the place of Jim. "You know what to do... I have an appointment to keep." Seb nodded once and barely flinched when his boss pulled out without warning and none too gently. By the time Seb stood to fasten his trousers Moriarty was gone. He only paused long enough to summon someone to dispose of the body before heading out after his boss.
They had work to do.
{*} {*} {*}
They had been back in London for two weeks now, having returned in the dead of night to set the final gambit into motion.
John hadn't realized how homesick he really was until he set foot in 221B Baker Street once more. A huge weight seemed to lift from his shoulders and the Omega practically purred with happiness and contentment. Sherlock smiled as he sensed his mate's pleasure, it was reassuring to be back in their home together once again. Maybe the nesting instinct was kicking in early, because all John wanted to do was stay in the flat with Sherlock and prepare for the arrival of their children.
Unfortunately, he couldn't do that just yet.
Mycroft's minions still went through the motions of sweeping the flat regularly, though one or two devices were left strategically in place. Devices everyone was well aware of so that the information intercepted could be controlled. Though it looked to anyone watching that security was getting lax and careless, and the protected couple were unaware, that was anything but the case; the carefully structured facade a crucial part of their plan.
John was smuggled out of the flat at intervals for his check-ups with Doctor Johnson, keeping up the pretense of hiding him, though he was anything but hidden from those they wanted to see. Careless slips in his disguise or his cover allowing glimpses for the observers they knew were watching.
Careful lapses in security were planned as well, a guard inattentive or absent from his post. Every action planned out in excruciating detail to give the impression of complacency after all these months of hiding and high alert.
While movements on the security front went to plan, Mycroft, Sherlock, and Lestrade discreetly tightened their focus on Moriarty's trail. They had carefully drugged and tagged their Trojan horse, leaving him with no memory other than of a normal night's sleep. After allowing the pawn's escape, all they had to do was wait and watch. The young man never knew that he led them straight to his boss, the tag passing all security scans without even a blip. Not that they expected for the final play to be at that location, it simply gave them a target to isolate and raid when the time came. Sherlock for one was greatly relieved when this trial run of the tag went without a hitch.
Sadly, they were not particularly surprised to recover both their tag, and the body of the young man, within two days of his escape.
John was kept informed of every part of the plan but not allowed to do anything at this point. He hated it, the inaction going against the soldier's nature. Sherlock did not command or insist, he practically begged John to simply focus on gestating their children for the moment. There would be enough strain on John and the babies soon enough as he risked everything to help bring this tyranny to an end. Sherlock and Doctor Johnson both could hardly be blamed for wanting John to rest. John grudgingly conceded but continued his daily Tai Chi to stay in shape as much as he could, with some added stair climbing and laps around the flat. It wasn't like having a real workout but he was making the most out of his condition and situation. The Omega understood the necessity of what they were doing, and the soldier would be called into service again soon enough.
By the third week, they were as prepared as they could be, simply waiting for Moriarty to make his move. For a change, John was the one going mad with boredom. While the nesting urge was setting in, he was limited in what he could do to prepare for the children at the moment, though the upstairs bedroom had been cleaned thoroughly and awaited them like an empty canvas craving paint.
John had made certain Mycroft would keep tabs on his closest friends when he left, especially Sally. He had worried that she would be targeted after his first kidnapping, but even more so when he disappeared. Thankfully she and her family were safe; Mycroft reporting that she had safely delivered a baby girl. At this point, John was missing his friend terribly. The Omega longing to share his concerns and feelings with someone who would understand his perspective, having already experienced it for themselves. He wanted that bit of reassurance that everything was normal, as well as to share his joy with hers. He considered letting Mycroft arrange a letter or visit, but finally decided that any information or access could put her family at risk. He reconciled himself to waiting until things were finally resolved before seeing his friend again.
For all the planning and preparations, it was a simple act of spontaneity that set the end in motion.
{*} {*} {*}
John was having a craving; a truly urgent and severe craving for a bacon butty. He was trying to ignore it for the time being and wait patiently instead. Mrs. Hudson was out with Mrs. Turner for the afternoon and Sherlock was meeting Lestrade at the Yard. He was only going to be gone an hour, John could wait until he returned. Calling down to Speedy's to have them deliver a sandwich upstairs was simply too ridiculous for John to contemplate doing, even in his very pregnant state. He rubbed his hands soothingly over the twins while their apparent demands went unheeded and his stomach grumbled again. Still, he could wait for Sherlock...well...he tried.
Within fifteen minutes he was arguing with himself, it was only downstairs...right outside their front door. Sherlock did encourage him to indulge all of his cravings and let the babies have anything they seemed to want. No, he could wait...he could, only forty minutes to go; maybe a snack of pickles and jam would hold the babies over until Sherlock got back. He slowly pushed himself up from his chair and turned toward the kitchen. Surely that had taken five more minutes on its own, he thought ruefully. He was headed for the kitchen, his feet moved in that direction, he knew they did, yet John found himself out of the flat, at the bottom of the stairs and out of the door before he thought twice. John shrugged and smiled to himself as he pulled the door to Speedy's open, whatever kept the twins happy. He would just get his sandwich and nip back upstairs before Sherlock even returned.
He ended up ordering a large orange juice and two sandwiches, just in case one didn't calm the craving.. He couldn't even wait to get back upstairs, unwrapping the first sandwich and taking the first bite with a sigh. With a hearty 'Ta', John tucked the bag with his second sandwich under one arm and took up his juice in his free hand, happily biting into his treat as he stepped out the door to head back to the flat. He froze in his tracks, still mid-chew, at the sight awaiting him outside.
One booted foot crossed over the other, Sebastian Moran was leaning casually against the wall between Speedy's and the entrance to 221B. His left hand was tucked into a pocket, pushing his leather jacket back enough to reveal the holstered handgun he wore, while the other lifted a cigarette to his lips.
John watched as he took a slow drag from the fag, alert for the next move. The soldier had assumed control in an instant, but otherwise John still appeared relaxed in all outward appearances; swallowing his food and sipping his juice while he kept his eyes on the threat before him. Moran could have learned his sense of understated menace from his boss, but John suspected it was an innate quality that the military had simply honed to a Tee. Neither man moved or spoke while Moran puffed the cloud of smoke into the London breeze, before cutting his eyes toward his prey.
"Long time no see isn't it, Captain?" Moran appraised the smaller man, taking in the pronounced abdomen, "Quite a few changes too, I see."
John studied the man before him carefully, not bothering to respond as he purposely took another bite of his sandwich and chewed slowly. They were counting on the theory that Moriarty wouldn't want John hurt, at least not yet. They believed he would want to be certain Sherlock was present for whatever he had in mind, so that this time he could fully enjoy the Alpha's torment. He could tell Moran was annoyed by his lack of response, but John knew, better than anyone, how to play his cards. It appeared their theory was proven correct when a black SUV with tinted windows pulled to the kerb and Moran spoke again.
Smirking slightly to the fellow soldier and nodding his head towards the vehicle, he spoke, "Let's just do this the easy way, Captain. Shall we? Get in."
John stood firm, chewing slowly. He stared boldly at Moran as he took a pull of his juice and swallowed, finally shrugging nonchalantly. "Fine. As long as I get to keep my food."
Moran couldn't stop his small smile at the soldier's nerve. "Certainly, Captain," he said, gesturing to the vehicle as he pushed off from the wall.
John stepped forward and carefully took his seat without another word, while Moran circled around to get in beside him. He had bought all the time he could. While the possibility that the CCTV feeds had been tampered with or his guards taken out was very real, they had other means of keeping Sherlock alerted to what was going on. He had given the staff at Speedy's and the watchers of the homeless network plenty of time to spot something and send out a warning. Not to mention the sharp push to the stem on his watch that sent a silent signal ping out to Sherlock, Mycroft, and Lestrade all at once. Another ingenious invention of Mycroft's people that alerted everyone to begin the tracking. Even as Moran collected his phone, quickly turning it off, the signal had already been sent to start the trace on the subdural tracker. John handed over his things without a fuss, sitting back in his seat to finish his sandwich and juice, while he mentally reviewed their strategy and plans.
With luck this would all be finished tonight.
{*} {*} {*}
Mycroft knew the moment John left the flat and entered Speedy's; he also knew the moment his cameras went out and he lost contact with his guards. He had maintained personal monitoring of all aspects of surveillance ever since Sherlock and John returned home, not willing to risk his family's safety on second hand information. He didn't waste time, redirecting the feeds to his laptop and phone while he quickly moved to his waiting car and headed after Sherlock. He had no doubt that this was the move they had been waiting for, and apparently Sherlock agreed. His brother and Lestrade both barrelled out of NSY as he pulled up.
While Mycroft's timing was impeccable, there wasn't time to comment on it as they made their way toward Baker Street. Sherlock was grim, focused intently on his phone and incoming updates from his homeless watchers.
Lestrade reached across the seat, putting his hand over Mycroft's and giving an encouraging squeeze. Mycroft quickly glanced over and met the warm gaze of his mate-to-be, returning the smile he found there. They had kept their distance since returning from the country, wary of setting off Gregory's heat in the midst of their operation. They both hated the separation, the pull to be with each other only growing as they stayed apart.
Mycroft turned his hand over, lacing his fingers with Gregory's, returning the squeeze as he whispered, "Soon Gregory, very soon now." Greg nodded and they remained joined while they rode in silent contemplation.
As they arrived at Baker Street, Sherlock growled harshly in his throat and gripped the door handle so tightly an imprint of his fingers would surely be left behind. The Alpha was ready to leap from the car, he could scent and chase down his mate on foot if he had to, only the sharp commanding reminder from his brother stopped him.
"The plan, Sherlock. Remember the plan." The Alpha jerked, breathing in sharply at the words and voice of his dominant Alpha brother. His hand twitched over the handle as he struggled to release his grip and the steady growl rose and fell in volume as control was wrestled back from the Alpha. There was an end goal that was much more important than indulging instincts in the short term. At last, Sherlock visibly shook himself before slowly sitting back in his seat and giving his brother a firm nod.
"Thank you, Mycroft. I am in control now. The instincts are simply overwhelming."
"Perfectly understandable, brother. Can you sense John? Is he well?" Mycroft genuinely wanted the information but was indulging his own curiosity about Sherlock and John's unique bond as well.
Sherlock's brows furrowed for only a moment before relaxing, "He is fine….focused." His fellow passengers were surprised when Sherlock suddenly chuckled, "Apparently he is also annoyed that we can't wrap this up without all of the dramatics." He looked over to Lestrade and Mycroft, "He is ready."
The car had pulled to the kerb outside 221B. The real work began now, the "show" was on.
{*} {*} {*}
Moran had let him finish his butty before insisting on the blindfold. John had merely glared daggers at the ex-soldier until he handed over the blindfold and allowed the Omega to tie it himself. The two of them had been through this particular rodeo too damn many times and Moran held a grudging degree of respect for the former army doctor. Unlike most of Moriarty's other henchmen, he certainly knew enough not to underestimate the man, Omega or not. He had observed Captain Watson closely since he first picked him up. Something was different this time. Something he couldn't put a finger on but his instincts were constantly nagging him about. The closest he could come to a conclusion was noting that the Omega was unusually calm despite his very pregnant state. It went beyond the enforced calm that was trained into soldiers in the face of stress and adversity, this was almost preternatural. It was putting Moran on edge; the longer they rode, the closer they got to Moriarty, the worse it became. When Captain Watson began to hum softly and rub over his swollen belly while a small smile played across his lips, Sebastian Moran began to experience something he had not felt in a long time...fear.
He squashed down the uneasy feelings and focused on his task, which was bringing Captain Watson in alive. So far, so good.
They arrived in due time and Moran escorted the Captain inside before removing the blindfold. John blinked a few times to allow his eyes to adjust and then began to systematically review his surroundings and relay as much of that information as possible to Sherlock through the bond. They had been practicing all this time and found the more their bond grew the greater their control became; John used every bit of training, everything he had learned from Sherlock and Alec alike, to increase their knowledge.
He appeared to be in a large manor house, similar to the Holmes estate but not as old or near as grand. A massive staircase swept up the right side of the foyer and onto the second level, while arches and doors branched off into various other rooms. If they were greeted by a butler John had not sensed his presence, in fact he had seen no one else beyond he and Moran so far but he continually scanned and relayed information all the same. Moran gestured to their left and John led the way as he was taken to the library and introduced to his host.
Moriarty sat behind a large mahogany desk, a tumbler of whiskey in his hand, completely engrossed in the laptop before him. He was grinning madly to himself and chuckling now and then. John suspected he knew what had the consulting criminal so amused and suppressed his own knowing smile, Sherlock was a superb actor when the situation required. Though judging from what he easily sense earlier from his mate, he wasn't entirely acting either.
Moran cleared his throat softly, prompting the small dark man to look up. He turned his manic smile upon the Omega, his voice no less menacing for its softness. "Hello again Johnny. My, my aren't you looking lovelier than ever," his words uttered as an indecent caress. "I really must say that impending motherhood suits you." John managed to stop the scowl that wanted to cross his brow when the maniac even referred to his children, but he kept his placid expression in place as Moriarty continued. "But really now, where are my manners Johnny? Please have a seat, you must be anxious to put your feet up." John didn't bother with a reply but did take the offered seat. Moriarty spared a quick glance at Moran before commenting on John's silence. "Really Johnny? Name, rank, and serial number seems to be a bit much don't you think?"
A small tight smile appeared on John's face and he tilted his head slightly, studying the madman before him. Just as the moment became uncomfortable enough for Moriarty to shift slightly in his seat, John replied. "Merely conserving my energy. It seems a prudent course of action given my condition, don't you think?"
Moriarty blinked, uncertain of what to make of the calm and logical reply from the man before him. However, it only took a moment for his normal arrogance to take over once again. "Oh certainly a wise choice. Would you care to lie down? I can certainly offer you a wide choice of bedrooms, should you require...particularly mine." There was no mistaking the leering tone that had bled into Moriarty's voice as he made his offer.
John had no urge to think of Moriarty and bedrooms together in the same breath for any reason. Thankfully they had all been aware of the type of tactics that might be employed and had prepared accordingly. He ignored the implications behind the voice as he replied. "I think I'll be just fine here, thanks. But I'll certainly keep your kind offer in mind." He sat at ease, both hands resting loosely on his abdomen, breathing even, pulse steady, perfectly calm it appeared.
Moriarty studied him, an awkward smile on his face, as if forced there by sheer will alone rather than a natural reaction, he seemed to shake himself and changed the subject. Turning his attention back to the laptop he smiled brightly once again. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Sherlock is quite distraught over your disappearance. Would you like to see? It's most entertaining! I can't decide how long I want to let him stew before throwing him a bone. I do want him to find you after all...to find...you and I."
John gave nothing away, the same small smile on his face, the same slow blink. Moriarty could think anything he wanted at this point, their plan was finite and the madman himself had already taken the step that would seal his fate. He just didn't know it yet. "I will take your word for it, though I have no doubt he is indeed spectacular." John emphasised the last part of his sentence, making it clear in just what way he thought Sherlock was spectacular. He allowed himself a broad smile as he quipped, "I do have the advantage of seeing the proof everyday, however, unlike yourself. So please, don't let me hinder your viewing pleasure."
The reply caused Moriarty to pause, his brow furrowed for a moment. The Omega simply wasn't reacting the way he anticipated and it bothered him when things did not go to plan. "Do excuse me a moment Johnny, I need to speak to Sebastian."
John had watched the tightness around Moriarty's eyes increase and the edges of his practiced smile pull taut and hid his smirk until the man was behind him. He always did enjoy defying convention and expectations and he did so now with a great deal of satisfaction. Lacing his fingers together over his belly, John closed his eyes and let his thoughts and emotions flow outward to his mate, quickly receiving the reassurance of the same back from Sherlock.
Moriarty directed his right hand man into the hallway with a sharp jerk of his head. Things didn't feel right. Watson wasn't acting the way an Omega should when their offspring were threatened. It might be a small thing, but he had not stayed alive all this time by ignoring the small things. Conferring with Moran did nothing to ease his fraying nerves. Watson wasn't drugged apparently, and certainly wasn't armed. And while Sebastian agreed with the general sense of unease, he couldn't identify any actual threat to target. Moriarty was not comfortable with frustration; at least Sherlock's Alpha was reacting exactly as he had hoped. He sharply ordered Moran to tighten security and keep alert. It was all he could do in the face of a threat they merely perceived. His manic grin returned as he entered the library once more and took his seat before the laptop. Perhaps a change of strategy. Moriarty turned up the volume on the video feeds from Baker Street, letting the Omega hear his Alpha's distress, while he completely ignored the man and focused on enjoying the havoc he had caused.
John was fighting not to smile or laugh and give them away, but hearing Sherlock in the full throes of a faked Alpha rage was quite amusing. He tried not to wince at the various crashes and thuds he could hear; he hoped the flat wouldn't be in too bad of shape when they got back. He nearly choked when he heard Mycroft's voice as well, chiming in to calm Sherlock. He merely relaxed further, letting his head rest against the back of his chair and closing his eyes, John dozed lightly while Moriarty indulged himself. It was a skill he had learned quickly in the army, getting a few winks in while remaining alert and able to engage in battle at a moment's notice. John knew the kind of reaction the madman wanted to see and he refused to give him the satisfaction. Barely ten minutes later, the next card was played.
Moriarty could not understand what was going on, Sherlock was responding as expected but the Omega was ignoring everything….even napping. He couldn't say he knew much about pregnant Omegas but he expected more of a response. He was already frustrated but when he watched some of Mycroft's men corner Sherlock, holding him down while a sedative was administered he slammed his laptop shut with a growl. That at least got the Omega's attention again. "Your brother-in-law has the most tedious habit of interfering in my plans, Johnny. It appears our little game shall have to be put off as he has seen fit to sedate Sherlock. Boring. I can't play with an unconscious Alpha, where would the fun in that be?" Moriarty instead chose to focus his dark gaze on John, slowly raking over the compact Omega and the visible swell of pregnancy. The words ripe and lush sprang readily to mind. He might have missed his opportunity to breed the Omega for himself, at least this time, but that didn't mean he couldn't get something out of this little game. "As long as we have to wait, shall we see about dinner, Johnny boy? I would send someone to make up a room for you since you will be staying with us indefinitely; but why should I bother when my rooms will be more than adequate."
Once more John forced himself not to rise to the bait, not even to let the muscle in his jaw tighten in anger or revulsion. He knew exactly what was happening and he would not be here long enough to worry about Moriarty and his bedroom. He knew Sherlock was 'drugged' with saline and even know the swap was being made; a decoy Sherlock being taken to Bart's for observation while His Sherlock joined Mycroft, Lestrade, and the rest of the strike team. Moriarty wouldn't be watching for the threat tonight, thinking Sherlock incapacitated, and this gave them yet another edge over their slippery foe. Armed with the comforting presence of Sherlock in his mind, John held up his crumpled paper bag with his second sandwich, "I'm all set for dinner, thanks. But I'll certainly join you if you like, no need to be rude now is there?" He smiled his most enigmatic smile and enjoyed the small crack in Moriarty's carefully crafted facade.
{*} {*} {*}
It had been easier than he had anticipated, acting his rage out for Moriarty, when he had so much pent up emotional ammunition to channel into his performance. The constant contact with John kept his true instincts in check so that he could remain focused on their plans. When the information began to trickle through their bond, Sherlock was able to assimilate and process quickly; having identified the property where John was being held and began reviewing the blueprints in his mind even before Mycroft's men had finished triangulating the position of John's tag.
Once safely in the 'ambulance' for the swap, he quickly began to issue instructions and run logistics through Mycroft and Lestrade as well. The secondary team was in place, preparing to raid the office complex they had already identified in coordination with the primary raid on John and Moriarty's location. While Moriarty was escorting John to his dining room, Sherlock, Mycroft and Lestrade joined the primary team now skirting the perimeter of Moriarty's security. Once everyone was in place and the final check-ins made, the team slowly began to close the trap on its unsuspecting prey. Each person received the same final message before they began.
Moriarty falls tonight.
{*} {*} {*}
John was taking particular delight in aggravating Moriarty, though it was a delicate balance as he didn't want to push the man too far. When they sat for dinner, John asked for the loo, taking his sandwich and his empty glass with him as Moran escorted him to the nearby lav. He made Moran hold the glass while he relieved himself and washed his hands. He then washed the glass thoroughly in the sink before filling it with cool water from the tap. Taking up his sandwich once again, he carried both back to the table with him. He enjoyed seeing the irritation on both men's faces but he would take no chances on being drugged. Without waiting on his host, he simply helped himself to his sandwich and water. He continued to monitor both men peripherally as he followed Sherlock's movements via their bond. He knew when the push began, in no way surprised as the lights went out. Disabling all electronic communications and power to the estate was one of the first steps.
It only took thirty seconds for the emergency generators to kick in and restore a minimum of lighting. John was not surprised to see the gun in Moriarty's hand aimed in his direction, though he rather thought Moriarty was surprised to find him still sitting there. A quick glance passed between Moran and his boss, a single sharp nod and Moran disappeared to secure the site or expedite their escape, whichever might be required. Moriarty rose from his seat, the gun never wavering from its target as the man moved closer to his guest.
John continued to eat calmly, letting Moriarty fume a bit longer, however his host seemed to have reached his snapping point.
The grip tightened on the gun in the small hand, the aim precise on the Omega's head. "What. Is happening, Johnny? Don't pretend innocence with me. I can observe as well as Sherlock and I am sure you know exactly what is happening. How did they find you...follow you?"
John shrugged slightly, "I assure you, I know nothing about what is happening. Not everything has to do with Sherlock and I, you do have other enemies."
Moriarty's face drew tight, the psychopath about to explode when a shrill whistle caused him to tense, obviously a signal of some kind. John was on his feet the next moment, a small hand gripping his elbow tightly as he was urged from his chair and pushed in front of Moriarty as a shield while they made their way out of the dining room and toward the foyer. Once again they didn't encounter anyone, perhaps there was no staff or they had sense enough to make themselves scarce.
John went willingly. He may not know where Moriarty was taking him but he knew exactly who was waiting for him. He smothered his smile and growing excitement as he accompanied the dangerous man who still held a gun on him. They reached the dimly lit foyer without incident and Moriarty was pushing him off to the side towards what appeared to be a hidden exit beneath the stairs. They had almost made their escape when a low rumble vibrated softly across the room, bringing Moriarty about in a whirl, dragging John with him as well, gun still at the ready. John could only smile as Moriarty's eyes grew large at the sight that met them.
Across the foyer just inside the entry hall, stood Sherlock Holmes. The Alpha was pristine in his black suit and plum colored shirt, both tailored to enhance his natural grace and beauty while disguising the lethal strength carried beneath all the finery. Sherlock was quiet and unbelievably calm, his shoulder leaning against a decorative pillar, arms crossed loosely in front of his chest as he casually studied his fingernails.
Moriarty almost sputtered when he spoke, "What are you….this isn't...how are you here?" While he retained a firm hold on the Omega, what he found most disconcerting was the lack of response by either man to the situation they were in at the moment. It wasn't natural, it wasn't what he planned on and he was quickly attempting to rearrange his plans to work with these new variables.
Sherlock barely glanced over at them when Moriarty spoke, instead he looked into the hallway mirror and began to fuss with his hair as he spoke. "Me? Oh I just came to retrieve John. No worries, be out of your hair in a tick." He kept brushing at an unruly curl that refused to lay properly. "Tsk, damn tedious if you ask me. Making me appear like this." He sighed dramatically as he finally left off messing with his hair, "Alas, I suppose it is to be expected. You did take my Omega after all and rob me of my personal consultant in these matters. So you must deal with me as I am, undisciplined curls and all."
John had been shaking his head slowly, agreeing with the sad state of affairs his mate proclaimed. But when Sherlock gave him a most inappropriate wink across the room, John could no longer stifle the giggles struggling to get out. "Drama queen," he sassed back at his mate and received a perfunctory bow in response. Sherlock was smiling as well, chuckling low in his throat.
Gobsmacked was not an attractive look on Moriarty's face. He had no idea when he had lost complete control of this situation but he found himself staring back and forth between two men who were supposed to be cowed in fear of him, trembling with worry over what his next move would be; instead...they were giggling like schoolgirls. He had no idea where Moran had gotten to but he needed to take charge of things again and quickly. He waited for a lull in the laughter before pressing his gun firmly to Watson's temple, his gaze cold and calculating, firmly fixed on the Alpha.
The response was instantaneous. All giggling stopped and Sherlock straightened to his full height to face his nemesis. The spark of humor fell from his eyes and Moriarty faced the glare of one of the most powerful Alphas he knew he had ever met. The low challenging growls of one Alpha to another slowly filled the room as the two men stared at each other with deadly intent.
It was a much louder growl that broke the stalemate.
{*} {*} {*}
Mycroft didn't often involve himself in field work but when he did he was every bit as lethal as his brother. Having decided that this particular threat to his family had gone on long enough, he was just as determined as Sherlock to see Moriarty come to an end. He was dressed out just like all the other strike squad members except for the sheathed blade slung across his back, the strap secured at his opposite hip. Several eyes were raised but no one questioned the Alpha over his choice in weaponry.
Lestrade could have headed up the secondary team raiding the office complex, however, knowing that his friends and his soon-to-be mate were facing the most dangerous villain they had ever encountered, sealed the deal for him. When the team began to move in, Lestrade was right beside Mycroft as they worked their way into the rear of the property and entered the house. Later there would be time to reflect on how well they worked together, how seamlessly they meshed, but for now they were both intently focused on their task. What security they encountered was dispatched quickly, staff arrested and hauled away for questioning. They made their way inside and up the back stairs, knowing Sherlock would be engaging Moriarty in the front of the house. They worked on clearing out the other threats to the rear. Working in tandem, they had made good progress and were nearing the end of the main hallway, both of them opening doors with firearms drawn to clear the floor faster. Lestrade quickly ducked into one room as Mycroft swung the door open across the hall, in hindsight they should not have expected their good luck to hold out.
Mycroft had barely glanced into his room when he heard several loud grunts and heavy thud behind him. He spun in time to see Gregory on the floor, dazed and his temple bloodied, with Colonel Moran standing over him. He saw the gun aimed at Gregory's head, saw the hand raise slightly to make the kill shot he knew was coming. Mycroft would never be able to explain what happened next, only that his Alpha overrode everything. The next moment he had his left hand squeezed tightly around Moran's throat, snarling loudly in his face. Moran's eyes were wide, clearly not believing he was facing Mycroft Holmes, government official, and losing. Mycroft's right hand reached smoothly over his shoulder, long fingers closing over the handle of his blade. Pinned to the wall by the hand choking him and the weight of the Alpha against him, Sebastian could do nothing but listen. He heard what sounded like the scrape of cold steel and that was all the warning he got. Mycroft held firm at Moran's throat but stepped away from the body just before he thrust the saber violently into the abdomen before him. As Moran gaped and choked, the Alpha gave a vicious twist to the blade before ripping it from the warm flesh. The ex-soldier slumped to the floor with a thump, feebly trying to clutch the wound in his belly as the blood flowed freely, staining his clothes. He could only gape like a beached fish as the Alpha spoke cold and deadly above him.
"You may have stood a chance of getting out of here alive and only enduring questioning and imprisonment." A shiver raced along Moran's spine and his heart beat faster as the Alpha continued. "However, that was before you harmed my mate. I can now assure you, with absolute clarity, that that was the last thing you will ever do." The first strike was not enough for the Alpha. Mycroft had never had a mate to defend, a mate to risk losing or to fight over, he had no preparation to control the brutal instincts that took over. With a loud roar, he drew back his arm and brought the blade sweeping down to slice cleanly across the Colonel's throat. Blood welled up, spilling forth with every beat of the weakening heart. With a disgusting rattle, Sebastian Moran took his last breath.
Mycroft turned his back on the dead man and knelt swiftly beside Gregory. His pulse was strong and steady and he was blinking, blearily trying to focus on his savior. Mycroft shushed him and placed a swift kiss on his forehead. They still had to see this through to the end. Disregarding the blood, Mycroft leaned over and hoisted the dead man over his shoulder without difficulty, holding him securely with one arm and gathering his blade with the other, he walked out of the room. The back-up making his way along the hall was startled by the sight of Mycroft Holmes covered in blood, carrying a blade and a body but he didn't get a chance to comment. "Detective Inspector Lestrade has been injured. If you know what is good for you, you'll get him out to the medics for treatment and stay with him until I return." The young man wasted no time at all following those orders while the Alpha moved towards the staircase landing.
He could hear the low challenging growls of Alphas facing each other. He could practically smell the angry threat of Moriarty in the air, and to a lesser degree he could pick up the determined scents of his brother and his mate. He could not make out the conversation of the two men but he soon saw the gun pressed to John's temple and determined the time for a distraction was now. With barely a grunt, he heaved the Colonel's body over the stair rail, sending the dead weight plummeting to the foyer floor, conveniently beside Moriarty. The surprised jump of the small Alpha gave him profound enjoyment, but the sudden reek of fear was even more delightful. He began to make his way down the stairs to join in the finale of this grand performance.
{*} {*} {*}
All three men flinched as the loud roar echoed from above. Sherlock quickly met John's questioning gaze but couldn't provide an answer. He was certain that was the sound of his brother but could not imagine what could possibly have driven his own Alpha to such a primal reaction, having never seen Mycroft in such a rage. There was nothing they could do but continue to play this out so he gave his own mate the smallest of shrugs.
Moriarty was disoriented and trying desperately to hide it, nothing seemed to be working out as he had hoped it would. He could not explain the loud roar but quickly became certain he knew exactly whom it came from. Narrowing his eye, the condescending sneer returned to his voice as he spoke, "Really now, Sherlock. Has it come to this at last? Are you so intimidated...so incompetent that you had to call in big brother to help you with your problems? I have to say I am deeply disappointed in you."
Sherlock smirked, having just spotted Mycroft moving forward; covering his amazement at the sight of his sibling, he replied to Moriarty. "I assure you it was not necessary at all. My brother has his own agenda here." Just as he saw Mycroft lifting the body, he smiled darkly, "I believe he is in charge of...garbage disposal." Moran's bloodied body fell beside Moriarty with a loud thud that resounded across the hall. The small Alpha started and stared at the body of his long-time, protector and partner in crime, unable to control the spike of sudden fear while his nemesis quipped. "Oh look! It appears he is very good at his job too." Moriarty's hands shook slightly as he looked back up at Sherlock, seeing the smug expression on his face and the faint traces of triumph in his eyes.
Moriarty knew he was alone now. He reflexively backed away from the stairs and the body still slowly oozing out its lifesblood, tugging the unresisting Omega with him. His mind was whirling with what his next step should be. He could simply shoot the Omega now and at least get to watch Sherlock suffer before he died. He couldn't say death was at the top of his list of things to do, so he considered the alternatives. As it stood now, he was facing both Holmes and who knew what forces outside. His best bet would seem to be to use Johnny as a shield and attempt to make his getaway. He could regroup and come after Sherlock another time, plus he would still have his Omega under his power. He was distracted from his thoughts as he saw Mycroft Holmes descending the stairs to his left. His eyes widened comically at the sight of the normally pristine man covered in blood and carrying a blade.
Sherlock met his brother's gaze with an appreciative nod. Mycroft returned the nod and remained silent as he approached, coming to stand beside his little brother. Both men ignored Moriarty completely. Sherlock reached out for the blade, "Tsk, tsk Mycroft. I know you were taught to care for your blade better than this." He reached out for the blade, snatching a handkerchief from his pocket and beginning to carefully clean the blood off. Glancing at his nemesis and gesturing slightly with the blade he spoke, "Family heirloom, you know. Have to care for it properly...handle it with respect."
Moriarty snapped. "I still have your precious family. Would you like to watch them die? Take another step and we'll see just how fast Johnny boy can bleed out." He was tired of being dismissed as though he was an ant the two brothers could step on at will. Time to remind them who the ants actually were. "It's too bad you're such a poor Alpha, Sherlock. Any Alpha worth his salt wouldn't have allowed their pregnant mate out of their sight. But you, no, you just left your little breeder roaming alone and now look what's happened. Even if I die here, I'll take your family with me. If I escape, I'm still taking your mate and child with me. Your brat will be born soon enough and then I can have your Omega all for myself. You really should be ashamed of yourself for causing such distress to your little pet."
Sherlock shrugged with nonchalance, replying in an offhanded manner, "Since when do I care about causing distress? It's all part of playing the game...isn't it, Jim?"
John had remained quiet, not provoking his captor while he waited for his cue to join the fray. His cue came as a nudge through the bond coinciding with his mate's words. He crossed his arms over his pregnant belly as best he could with Moriarty holding one elbow. Narrowing his eyes, he glared at his mate, "Sherlock Holmes! Do you mean to tell me I am standing here, pregnant with your child, and a gun to my head because you are still playing bloody games with this psychopath?" The excuse of his pregnancy and hormones was the perfect explanation for him ranting at his mate, all the explanation Moriarty required at any rate. No reason to let the madman know about the twins and just how much they were risking.
Sherlock flushed and bowed his head in apparent shame and Moriarty began to gloat, This was more like it.
John continued however, ignoring the threat at his side in order to chastise his mate. "If we get out of here, so help me, you will spend the next year making this up to me. And don't think I won't make you do it either! In fact, why don't you get on your knees this very minute and start begging for my forgiveness." He felt the subtle approval through their bond and risked a slight wink as Sherlock glanced up at him from under his dark lashes.
Mycroft only stood back, watching in silence. Sherlock allowed the blade to fall, dragging behind him as he shuffled forward just a bit, not wanting to get too close and cause Moriarty to feel threatened. Their plan relied on Moriarty's arrogance and utter confidence in his position of power. Humbled and shamefaced, Sherlock knelt before his mate.
Moriarty couldn't stop the bark of laughter from his throat. "I can not believe it! I never would have hoped to see the great Sherlock Holmes on his knees, cowed by pathetic sentiment...over an Omega." The maniacal grin was back, nearly splitting the sharp features in two, "Please do continue, Sherlock. I am anxious to hear your final words to your precious mate."
Sherlock glanced briefly at the other Alpha before addressing John once more. The heartbroken expression he plastered onto his face did nothing to conceal the building excitement they were sharing through the bond as their plans came to fruition. "John, you are absolutely correct. I am entirely to blame and I am deeply sorry for my actions. You should always be more important than the game." Moriarty was practically bouncing on his toes with suppressed glee at the spectacle. "I apologize, John. I apologize to you and to our unborn offspring for putting you in this delicate position. Please forgive me for subjecting you to the company of the vilest man we know for even a minute longer than necessary." Moriarty's face fell slightly, not sure he liked where this was going but he didn't interfere as Sherlock continued speaking. "You deserve better, at the very least you deserve to be held by a higher class of villain than this man I have subjected you to. It will never happen again...I promise."
John huffed, "Too right it won't!" He met Sherlock's penitent gaze with eyes filled with fiery passion, "Let's end this, love." Sherlock's smile spread slow and wicked across his face and the slight nod was all the permission John required.
Before Moriarty had the chance to blink twice, the Omega had relieved him of his gun. A few strategic blows with iron-like fingers hit his lower back, followed by a sharp twist against a particular set of nerves and he suddenly found he could not move...at all. Jim Moriarty was paralyzed, forced to stare straight ahead in dawning horror as the small, unassuming man that was John Watson leaned in close and spoke.
"You should never have messed with my family!"
His task accomplished, John walked away from Moriarty, sparing a moment to stop and bestow a quick kiss on his mate as he passed. Giving Moriarty a final look of disdain, he walked over to stand beside Mycroft, tucking the Alpha's own weapon in the back of his pants as he went. The final strike was Sherlock's by rights and both men served as witnesses to justice being served at long last. Not only for them but for all those who had suffered because of the madman before them.
Sherlock rose to his feet, the razor sharp blade still in his hand. He flipped the handle in his hand and brought the blunt edge of the blade to rest across his forearm, displaying it for the Alpha before him. "Perhaps you recognize the blade? Some of the finest tempered steel available." He glanced at the man before him, knowing he could not move or respond, yet he questioned anyway, "Are you aware of how steel is tempered?" He glanced expectantly at the unmoving face, "No?" He frowned in mock disappointment before continuing, "The steel is repeatedly heated and then cooled, imbuing it with both strength and flexibility." He admired the blade a moment longer, sliding it carefully over his arm much as he did his bow across the violin. He lowered the blade to his side before he met the eyes before him, cold fury shining from their depths.
In his peripheral vision, Moriarty could just make out the edge of the sharp sword as it was brought up to carefully caress his cheek. As Sherlock spoke he alternated cheeks, tapping the blade against his face for emphasis
.
"You -tap- expected to push me over the edge. You thought you would face an Alpha broken and out of his mind...at the mercy of his instincts. You -tap- underestimated John and I both. Everything you -tap- have done has only driven us closer...made us stronger. You have only yourself to blame, you -tap- made us strong enough to face you, and flexible enough to out-think you." He dropped the sword to his side and leaned in close, cupping Moriarty's face in an obscene mockery of intimacy as he hissed, "You've walked into your own trap. You made us strong enough to finish you."
Moriarty couldn't make a sound as Sherlock's right hand rested over his heart and the blade lifted to press into his right side a moment later, but only a bit before the Alpha stopped. The eyes boring into his were as cold and steely as the blade moving into his body. Sherlock smirked, a dark expression clouding his features as he pressed the blade in a bit more, then stopped again. Moriarty knew then, it was not to be a simple, quick death, the man before him surprising him even as he made certain he would feel himself being sliced open in increments; the blade advancing by degrees until it broke through the flesh of his left upper chest, the hilt pressed to his side . Sherlock's gaze darkened as he pressed his palm tighter against Moriarty's left pectoral muscle. "Your heart just stuttered indicating I severed the inferior venae cavae. Also pierced your large intestine, liver and lungs. Even with a surgery team in the other room, they couldn't work fast enough to save you."
Moriarty could feel every excruciating moment and yet could not even utter a reply, could not curse them all to their deaths while he was dying on his feet, watching his plans...his empire crumble in the face of Sherlock Holmes...Alpha.
With a soft grunt, Sherlock finally drew the blade from Moriarty's body and backed away. The Alpha was roaring in feral pride at ending the threat to his family but Sherlock remained quiet. Slowly he reached into his pocket once more and pulled out the soiled handkerchief. He began to carefully clean the blood off the sword again as he turned his back on Moriarty and walked back over to his brother and mate. Mycroft took charge of the blade and it's cleaning, while Sherlock wrapped his arm around John, kissing him tenderly as his free hand caressed their children.
"It's over," he whispered. John was too overcome with emotion to speak at that moment but his head bobbed rapidly in reply.
Moriarty could see it all, see how completely he had failed, see the victory he had practically handed to his enemies with his arrogance and pride. He was standing there dying and there was no one left to care. His vision was getting blurry, a filmy grey creeping in around the edges. He was only aware that he had fallen to the marble floor because his perspective changed. The last thing he saw was the perfect triumvirate turning as one to face him. Sherlock Holmes, flanked on one side by his brother and on the other by his mate, power and strength radiating from each of them. Family, commitment...sentiment, he thought sourly, the things he had no use for nor understanding of had destroyed him in the end. He looked on the bringers of his destruction as the breath left his body and the world went black.
The solid thud of another body hitting the floor had drawn the focus of all three men to the fourth, whom they had feared for so long. They stood in silent witness, unmoved as the man known as James Moriarty died. They could hear the muffled sounds of the strike team still going about their tasks, a few spilling onto the upper landing, taking in the silent tableau below. It was so surreal to think that Moriarty was finally dead, that no one seemed to know what to do next.
The silence was broken at last as John spoke up, "Do you suppose they have any pickles and jam in the kitchen? I'm having an awful craving."
{*} {*} {*}