Sherlock sat in his armchair, still wrapped in his heavy wool coat, knees drawn up to his chest. John couldn't help but chuckle at the impossible man who was currently enthralled by an American program called Maurry. John wondered just what he had done when he introduced Sherlock to crap telly, especially American telly.
"Of course he's not the boy's father!" Sherlock shouted at the screen. "Look at the turn-ups on his jeans!" Sherlock literally threw up his hands in exasperation.
John wanted to ask how the man's jeans could possible show whether or not he was some kid's father, but he thought better of it. Instead he settled on asking, "Did you get the memory stick back to Mycroft?" Sherlock made a grunt that John assumed was meant as a yes. It had been a long day for both of them, but at least they had saved the boy and recovered the missile defense plans. Overall it had been a productive day.
John was in such a good mood from the day's successes that he couldn't find it in him to make a single remark about the lack of food in the refrigerator, specifically milk. But, they hadn't had supper yet, so he figured they would need to figure something out soon. Not that Sherlock would notice if he didn't eat, but John always made sure to feed the distractible detective. "Sherlock, I'm going to go out and pick up some takeaway. Sound good?"
"Mmmhmm." Sherlock nodded but kept his eyes glued to the program. John shook his head and smiled to himself. He crossed the room, stopped to kiss Sherlock on the top of his head, and then went to the door.
"Be back soon," John said as he shut the door behind him.
Sherlock listened to John's footsteps disappear down the stairs before grabbing his laptop, which had Sherlock's blog loaded on screen already. In the box to type a new entry, Sherlock quickly typed out "Found missile defense plans. Meet me at the pool in 15 minutes to recover." He hesitated slightly, but then hit the ENTER key and closed the laptop again. He stood to leave, but then stopped. What will John think if he comes home and I'm not here? It wouldn't be the first time that John had come home to discover Sherlock had vanished into the night, but their relationship was different now. What am I supposed to do in this situation?
Sherlock settled on penning a quick note to John.
My dear Watson, stepped out for a bit. I'll be back soon. Don't wait to eat. -SH
He looked at the note, scrawled in his fine script. In an impulsive second, he crossed out the "S.H." and replaced it with "your love." Some part of him felt embarrassed that he was stooping to such sentiment, but a much larger part of him was grinning wildly thinking how John would react.
With scarf in hand, Sherlock left the flat and hailed a cab. It was a short distance to the pool, but he wanted to get there as quickly as possible.
The pool was dimly lit by the lights under the water. The space was quiet except for the occassional lazy lap of water. The heavy scent of chlorine filled the cool air. Sherlock looked around the space. He hadn't seen another individual, which he expected. He kept his eyes fixed on the pools other entrance across the way from where he stood with his hands in his pockets. "Brought you a 'getting to know you' present," he said to the whole room.
The quiet caused Sherlock to question himself. Maybe the mysterious Moriarty wouldn't show up after all. But then he heard a door to his left open. A man came into view. Sherlock had never doubted his own eyes before, but he was doing so now. He was seeing John, his John, standing in front of him.
"Evening," John said. Sherlock's brain ground to a halt, and then began to freefall. John? This isn't right... No it can't be. "This is a turn up isn't it Sherlock?" He can't be Moriarty... He can't. He wouldn't lie to me. Not my John.
"John...What the hell..." Sherlock began to say, but was cut off by his favorite voice in the world.
"Bet you never saw this coming," John said. John was staring directly into his lover's eyes. He was controlling his breath, his stance, everything. He knew exactly what Sherlock would be thinking right now. He just hoped that he could see what was in front of him rather than believing the words he was being made to say. John blinked his eyes rapidly three times, then blinked slowly three times, then blinked rapidly again three times. This was a trick they taught him in the army, SOS with the eyes. He was praying Sherlock would notice.
Sherlock did notice the odd blinking pattern, but he was so torn up, that he wasn't understanding the meaning of it. He's been playing me... I thought... I loved...No... A tear threatened to fall, and even with distance between them, John could see it, and his heart was breaking.
John was relieved with his next instruction. He eased the heavy coat open to reveal the bomb strapped to his chest underneath. "What would you like me to make him say next?"
Sherlock only felt relief for a split second. Okay so he's not Moriarty, he hasn't been lying to me. He's got a bomb strapped to him. Why? What am I supposed to solve this time? I've got to save him!
John stood motionless and listened to his next few voice commands. "Gottle of geer, gottle of geer, gottle of geer..."
Sherlock spun around, looking all around the pool, and shouted "Stop it!" He turned back to John.
"Nice touch this, the pool where little Carl died. I stopped him. I can stop John Watson too." John felt bile rise in his throat at the next sentence. "Stop his heart."
"Who are you?" Sherlock yelled.
Across the way, the opposite door opened a slight crack and Sherlock could just barely see a sliver of a face. "I gave you my number," the man said. "I hoped you would call."The man stepped through the door and Sherlock couldn't hide his surprise. Molly's boyfriend? Jim?
"Jim! Jim from IT?" Moriarty said, voicing Sherlock's thoughts. "Did you like the bit with the underwear? Not exactly my style, but it does serve it's purpose."
"What do you want?" Sherlock slowly drew John's handgun from his back pocket, glad that he'd decided last minute, on bringing it with him.
Moriarty came closer to John and when he reached a hand toward the doctor, Sherlock drew the gun and pointed it directly at Moriarty's head. He wasn't far away, it would be an easy shot.
Moriarty chuckled and shook his head. "Really Sherlock?" At that moment, a small red dot appeared on the center of John's forehead. Sherlock felt himself slowly lowering the gun. He didn't want to provoke Moriarty into killing John. "That's better. I'm just here to talk."
"You're here for this. Take it." Sherlock held the memory stick out toward Moriarty. The criminal's eyes sparkled and he stepped closer to Sherlock, and wrapped his fingers around the stick.
"The missile plans," Moriarty said with a smile. He brought the memory stick to his lips and kissed it gently. "Boring!" Sherlock was startled when Moriarty tossed the electonic into the pool. "I could have got those anywhere."
John saw an opportunity, Moriarty was between himself and Sherlock, temporarily blocking the sights of the hidden snipper. He threw his arms around the criminal and held fast. "Sherlock!" John called, and Sherlock reacted quickly, pointing the gun once more at Moriarty.
"You've really shown your hand Johnny boy," Moriarty said while struggling against John's iron grip.
"If your snipper fires, we're both going out Mr. Moriarty," John responded in a gruff growl. But to John's horror, another red dot appeared, but this time it was centered on Sherlock's forehead.
Moriarty laughed again as John eagerly let him go and raised his hands in surrender. He would gladly surrender his own life before he had to watch Sherlock die.
Moriarty ran his hands across his suit jacket, trying to smooth out the wrinkles John had caused when he'd so rudely manhandled him. "Listen, I told you I was here to talk, and I meant that."
"What do we have to talk about?" Sherlock spat.
"Oh don't speak with such...venom Sherlock. Not after all the fun we've had. You have enjoyed our little game haven't you?"
"People have died," Sherlock retorted.
"That's what people do!" Moriarty yelled. Sherlock could feel the tension between them growing by the second. He needed to think quickly to bring the situation under control and save John. "Besides, those people, they weren't like you and I. They were so...ordinary. Not like us Sherlock. We can see what others can't. We can do anything we want."
"What do you want?"
"I want... you." Moriarty's smile could have curdled milk. Sherlock felt sick to his stomach at the realization of Moriarty's meaning. "I've been so alone Sherlock...So bored...You are interesting! You and I, we could rule this puny world. What do you say? I'll even let Johnny boy here live, though you'll never see him again. I am the jealous type I'm afraid." Moriarty spoke in a singsong fashion, smiling and shifting eagerly from one foot to the other.
"As flattered as I am..."Sherlock began, but Moriarty cut him off.
"I don't take rejection well Sherlock."
"Really, I am flattered, but I must say, I consider myself married to my work. Relationships are not my area."
A dark expression fell over Moriarty's face. But as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone. He was grinning madly again. "Oh... I'm sorry. I must have misread the situation. I thought you and John... I didn't realize you weren't looking for a relationship. Well this is awkward. Ah well, I guess all's fair. But listen, our little game has been fun, but now you're in my way. So I'm going to need you to stop digging. Stay out of my way, and we won't have a problem." Moriarty turned on his heel and walked quickly to the door he'd entered from. Before stepping out he snapped his fingers and the sniper sights went out.
Sherlock waited for all of three seconds before rushing to John and desperately pulling off the heavy coat and the bomb. "John? John? Are you alright?" He asked, frantic. When the bomb came off, Sherlock slid it across the floor, away from them.
"Yeah yeah...I'm fine..." John felt his knees buckle, but Sherlock was there to catch him. John clung to Sherlock, and tried to steady his breathing. "Glad no one saw that," John said softly into Sherlock's chest. "You ripping my clothes off in a darkened swimming pool, people will talk." The two of them laughed, though their laughter was accompanied by distinct stabs of pain.
"John, what you...that thing you were going to do for me... that was um...good," Sherlock was holding tightly onto John's waist, keeping him from falling.
"I think that's Sherlock Holmes for 'thank you'," John said with a smile up at Sherlock. Good, he's joking, he should be alright, Sherlock thought.
As they pulled out of their embrace, the men were shocked to see multiple red dots covering each of them. Before they even had a chance to comprehend the meaning, the pool door burst open and Moriarty stepped in once again. "Sorry boys!" He announced. "I'm soooo changeable! You can't be allowed to continue. You understand right Sherlock? It sounds so cliche, but if I can't have you, no one will. I would try to convince you, but everything that I would say has probably already crossed your mind."
Sherlock and John made eye contact, and John's eyes followed as Sherlock looked toward the bomb coat that lay on the floor between them and Moriarty. The lovers looked at each other once again, and John gave the slightest nod. With that, Sherlock pointed the gun at Moriarty and said "Then perhaps my answer has already crossed yours." Sherlock lowered the gun so it was now pointing at the bomb. One shot and they would all go up in flames.
Time seemed to stand still, John and Sherlock were grasping hands, and Moriarty was watching Sherlock with his head cocked to the side. They were all standing on the edge of a knife, any movement could be the end of them all.
But then a "Staying Alive" ringtone echoed through the room. John and Sherlock's hands gripped tighter, but Moriarty simply sighed and rolled his eyes. He took the phone from his pocket and answered it, mouthing "Sorry" to Sherlock. The conversation must have been about some extremely important news. Whatever the news was, it caused Moriarty to call off his snippers and leave the building, leaving John and Sherlock alone once again.
Author's Note:
So we've finally met Moriarty. And his intentions have been revealed. I'm glad to finally be done with this sub plot. It's been fun writing it, but I'm excited to get to some of the other stuff I've got planned. The next several chapters will be all original content that takes place between season 1 and season 2 story lines. Mostly it will be lots of romance and cute couple stuff, and of course some more smut.
Of course, please let me know what you all think? Is Moriarty wanting to be with Sherlock too weird? Does it work?
Thanks for reviewing, favoriting, and following. And as always, thanks for reading.
-Padfoot333