Disclaimer: settings and characters as depicted in BBC series not mine. No money being made. Plot is mine.
Probationary Employment
By the time Moriarty got around to indicating that he wasn't dead and the 'job offer' still stood, Sherlock had gotten quite good at the kissing side of things, provided he wasn't touching John's mouth. This was partly because he still found the idea of pressing his mouth against someone else's vaguely unhygienic but mostly because he liked the way John sounded when they were kissing and touching. Kissing and touching John was more than a bit good – if pressed Sherlock would have owned that it was in fact brilliant.
Therefore he vaguely resented Moriarty's timing. Sherlock was a quick learner, and John seemed to have an endless array of things to teach him. However, his Heart made the very clever argument that they wouldn't get any peace until Moriarty was gone for good, and then mentioned something about a reward system. Sherlock was now 'on a promise' – and while he didn't know what that entailed, he certainly was willing to get Moriarty's first task out of the way in order to find out.
Moriarty had a 'client' that resented working hard to earn money for other people and had therefore come up with a 'Cunning Plan' to embezzle a significant amount of money. He wished for Moriarty to assist him in relocating to another country with his new-found wealth, on the understanding that he would first assist Moriarty to increase his own monetary resources first. Apparently, this client had fulfilled his side of the bargain and Moriarty was going to keep his. Sherlock had expected John to be surprised by this seemingly honourable action, but his flatmate had muttered something about 'not killing the goose that lays the golden eggs' and once Sherlock had Googled that reference he'd agreed with the sentiment.
"So do we fake his death? And is there any family involved?" John asked, leaning over Sherlock's shoulder to have a look at the files they'd received electronically – not that the files had come in any recognisable format, but more as the result of what John called an 'Easter egg' hunt. Sherlock appreciated that his flatmate was leaning without tempting touches and let him look his full.
"There is a wife, no children. The client does not wish her to join him," Sherlock reported, "I suppose you could call this a cheap divorce."
"And what's in it for you, apart from beginning to establish your credentials? If you're going to give up your gainful employment, you'll need some sort of wage or kick-back," John quirked an eyebrow at Sherlock, then smiled, "What? I've been paying attention."
"Good, because we can't afford mistakes," Sherlock replied, "I'll be paid after the job is done - I've set up an anonymous bank account."
"So, how shall we do this?" John asked, "Simpler would be better, yes?"
"Yes," Sherlock nodded, "So no phoney car hires."
John snickered and walked away to the kitchen to make tea, leaving Sherlock to think. The consulting genius appreciated this as well, but dismissed it for later, turning his mind to plans and possibilities. He made a note to get Mrs Hudson to buy a portable computer for him – they'd need a third machine that was isolated from their usual machines and unregistered on the internet in order to store their evidence for the Yard to read through once this was all over – and then began mentally drafting his plan.
John left tea and hobnobs at his elbow before retiring to his usual chair with the paper and his own tea. The two men sat in silence at their selected tasks for several hours, though John got up and went out of the room on several occasions, speaking to Mrs Hudson on the stairs and moving about in his own bedroom for a short time. Martha interrupted Sherlock to ask if he needed anything at the shops and disappeared with Sherlock's stash of fifty pound notes and written instructions as to the type of computer he required.
She returned hours later in a taxi and John went down to help her with her shopping, coming back upstairs with several weighty bags and the computer in its box. He unpacked it and plugged it in to charge, though he didn't turn it on, knowing that Sherlock would prefer to configure it himself. Sherlock grunted approval as John sat back in his chair with a novel, getting a wry grin in response.
"You have a real talent for silence, John," Sherlock said several hours later, turning to open the new computer and boot it up.
"You're welcome," John replied lightly, "I take it you have a plan now?"
"Yes," Sherlock nodded, "We'll use this computer to store our evidence and files for those idiots at the Yard…"
"I meant a plan to help our new 'client' disappear," John corrected himself. Sherlock shot him a look and nodded, but chose to concentrate on the computer first. He noted that John was writing in an A4 exercise book, the type that could be bought in any stationery aisle in any supermarket.
"Back up files, good idea, John," Sherlock approved, "I assume you have a secure, fireproof container to keep them in?"
"Yes," John nodded, "It's hidden away carefully too. You'll be storing the computer in the safe under the bath, right?"
"How did you…" Sherlock looked up, his typing not even pausing as he glared lightly at his smug flatmate, "You've been snooping!"
"I've been fixing the plumbing and had to get at the pipes," John corrected, "You're just upset because you don't know my hiding place."
That was true, so Sherlock didn't dignify it with an answer. He had no idea where John was keeping the container he'd spoken of and had no time to winkle the information from his flatmate.
"So how will this work?" John asked, with only a hint of smugness in his tone. Sherlock appreciated the gesture – had their positions been reversed, the thin genius knew himself well enough to know that he would have been lording his knowledge over John mercilessly.
"Have you got the clients name and all of the particulars down?" Sherlock waited until John compared his notes to Sherlock's on the screen and then nodded, "Very well, then. I plan for our client to catch a cab tomorrow night. He's attending a 'work do' I believe it's called. His wife will not be in attendance as she is currently out of town visiting her brother and his new baby. I will be driving that cab – I'll take him to a small airport with a charter flight to France and then escort him off to Dubai. During that time, you will remain in Baker Street and handle any queries as to my location."
"You're still here, but refusing to see Lestrade if he calls because he didn't trust you?" John asked and Sherlock shook his head. A glance at John's page showed only notes about the task ahead of them, with none about Sherlock's supposed alibi – which was as it should be. Mycroft would not be best pleased to have unsecured information about his role in things lying around Baker Street.
"I wouldn't put it past Lestrade to orchestrate another 'drugs bust' in the middle of the night to try and corner me," he replied, "No, if Lestrade asks, I'm visiting Mummy in France. I'll give you a number to pass on, but do try to ensure that you seem to be under duress from police harassment when you do so. Interpol records will show that I left the country legally and have gone no further than France, so that's all right."
"And you left today?" John nodded when Sherlock beamed at him, pleased that the man had picked up the nuances of the game so quickly, "Alright then, Martha and I can manage that."
"Good," Sherlock nodded, "Don't forget to lock that notebook up."
"I won't," John promised, "You'll be off soon?"
"Yes," Sherlock's chest felt tight again and he reached out, drawing John close to his side and wrapping his arms around the smaller man, "You must be careful while I'm away. You owe me a 'promise'."
"I will be," John vowed and Sherlock resigned himself to having to make do with that.