Jim Moriarty wasn't in the mood for visitors. Another one of his schemes had been ruined by Sherlock Holmes. The very same Sherlock Holmes he was certain that he'd killed two weeks ago.

He resisted the urge to rip at his short hair and instead smoothed his shirt as he got up from his work desk. Jim didn't show a flicker or surprise when he saw one of the shadows shift and reveal a tall, pale man with viper green eyes. Instead, he returned to his seat and glared.

"Dad, I don't understand you sometimes. Why keep this irritant alive when he decided to be boring and choose love over intellect?"

Dad smiled his usual enigmatic smile and took the seat opposite of Jim. Somehow, despite sitting where his lackeys usually sat, dad still looked like royalty, like he was in control.

"You need a fitting enemy, James, and who better than your own brother?"

Jim continued to glare, but there was a hint of surprise that he couldn't keep out of his eyes at the revelation.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"What fun would it be if I told you all the answers?"

He desperately wished that he could strike out in frustration at his dad at that moment, but he knew that would be wrong. It would be emotional and beyond foolish to strike out against a god. So he settled on offering his dad a cigarette instead.

"Why are you here, dad?" Jim asked as he lit their cigarettes. It was perhaps safest to change the subject.

Dad took a long drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke and silence fill the dark room. Jim grit his teeth. He was not in a patient mood.

"You need a new obsession, James." Those green eyes were intent on him and he wasn't smiling anymore.

Jim was already starting to miss that irritating smile and the evasive answers. He narrowed his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"It isn't healthy to obsess so over your own brother."

James rolled his eyes.

"As if you're the one to talk, dad," he snapped. He was no fool, he knew that his dad had a similar sort of obsession with a certain Avenger and Thunder God uncle of his.

His dad crushed his cigarette abruptly on the table, making Jim wince for his imported mahogany.

"My life and your life are completely different, James Moriarty. I am a god, you are a mortal. You are wasting your time obsessing over a man who will never return your feelings, a man who is also your brother. Do try to act more like a Midgardian that you are and find someone else. Surely it can't be hard. How about that Moran you are always with?"

Jim paled at the mention of Sebastian Moran and suddenly various pieces clicked in his mind.

"You did not!"

"Of course I did, James. Where else did you think he could've possibly obtained those Latverian beads? Or those winter rose? Or..."

Jim stopped listening and covered his eyes with his free hand. It was at such time that he wished he wasn't half-god and that his father was truly Mortiarty Sr the Maths Professor, who ignored Jim in favour of sudoku and square root jokes. At least then he wouldn't have insane South African snipers like Moran hitting him with bizarre gifts.

Really, was it that much to ask to be left alone so that he could obsess over Sherlock Holmes in peace?