As Sherlock Holmes ran through the streets, one Mycroft Holmes and his rather lovely assistant were combing through video footage.

Mycroft shook his head, looking very irritated, "We have to find him. I don't want to imagine what would happen with his friend taken away."

"He's been clean for years, sir." Anthea glanced at the man.

"Addictive personality." Mycroft shook his head, "How can there be nothing? Nothing at all. If I didn't have cameras in the flat, if Sherlock had gotten rid of them as he always did, there would be no record of any package-" Mycroft had stopped speaking.

Anthea didn't have to ask why.

The computer screen that her boss had been flipping through had just changed. The screen was blank, completely and utterly a black screen...

And then the words began to appear...

Say say little enemy
Come out and fight with me
Bring your soldier's gun
We'll have so much fun
I'll shoot your eye out
And let you bleed to death
And we'll be jolly enemies
Oh, one, two, three, four
A doctor's at death's door
Five, six, seven, eight
Detective has a grisly fate
Nine, ten
Try to leave your office before it's a fiery den!

Mycroft narrowed his eyes. It was obviously a play of nursery rhymes. All too soon the words were gone, his normal screen back.

But something else took its place. A scent...

Fiery den. Both he and Anthea went running, his assistant sending a message to evacuate the building.

It felt like something out of a movie. When Mycroft got out, part of the building exploded.

There was no way, no way, no way that Moriarty could have gotten past their security. It was impossible! Mycroft knew the people here, knew them all!

But there was no other way. This had to be an inside job. Someone able to get all the way to his office without suspicion. Someone who knew his importance...

Someone who knew technology well enough to hack it...

Someone who was trusted.

Mycroft didn't know when his eyes had shifted to his assistant, who was very busy on her phone even now, but she did fit all the criteria. She knew the headquarters, could get in and could definitely hack most computers with ease.

The man thought for a few seconds before turning and summoning a car. He had to protect Sherlock from this supposed grisly fate. It would not be difficult to track his brother; he would be looking for whomever sent the package. And they could not be too far from 221 Baker Street.

The black sedan drove through the streets past Speedy's, Mycroft looking for Sherlock.

A man sat in Speedy's, a sandwich and newspaper in front of him as he glanced at the passing car. He had dark dark hair and dark brown eyes to match, though they were behind his glasses. He seemed to be a simple businessman, like many of the others in the cafe.

He glanced at his watch before standing up and walking to 221 Baker Street. He placed a small wrapped object into the mail slot, his hand with a rather large plaster on it and walked for a bit, passing a few streets until a taxi pulled up next to him.

He entered and spoke, looking out the window. "About time, Jim. The disguise wasn't perfect enough to let me remain here too long."

"I only had a few hours to work with," Jim Moriarty protested from the front seat. "And they weren't looking for you, they're keeping an eye out for people that would resemble me. Anyway, where to now?"

"Any suggestions?"

"This is, as they say, your game," Jim answered, glaring at the driver of another car that had just cut him off. "Rude..." Jim took out his phone and sent a quick text.

"Do I even want to know?"

"Just learning a bit more about the driver in front. With recklessness like that on the roads, I just wonder what else they've done. Might teach them a bit about having proper manners as well. So where to?"

John thought for a few moments before a smile began to spread. "St. Bart's."

The criminal mastermind just nodded.

"Also, might want to get some associates there."

Jim glanced at the man in the back seat. It was obvious he was enjoying himself. And why shouldn't he be? Jim knew that he was enjoying this little game immensely as well.

And perhaps, if John Watson enjoyed this enough... if Jim wasn't so stupid this time and didn't drive him away...

Then perhaps this time he would stay.

But Jim was not stupid. John had the ability to forgive and he was very loyal. Hadn't he not said anything about knowing Jim despite the fact that murders were going on during his game with Sherlock?

He knew that John would probably forgive the brothers Holmes, when his anger receded. Yes, that was a when, not an if; he knew John, after all. After John had made them see what they had made him go through...

Jim's hands tightened on the steering wheel. He could see the brilliant phyisican, the amazing soldier, knew the man's past and yet Sherlock had his loyalty?

Eliminating Sherlock wasn't a problem. One sniper shot and the man would be gone. No, the problem was Sherlock's big brother. He had just as many resources as Jim, and Mycroft Holmes would come crashing down on Jim. And though taking out the Iceman wouldn't be impossible... Jim knew he would be just as weakened from what would essentially be a civil war. His network would be very fragile, enough for competition to get ideas and act on them.

Jim was also sure that was the main reason that Big Brother wasn't putting more resources into finding him now. He wanted to wait for Jim to make the first move, he wanted to counterattack, to make Jim use his resources first.

Although right now, Jim had an asset that neither of the two did. Did John's loyalty extend to Mycroft Holmes? No, most likely not from the fact that he had actually advocated a violent tactic on the man quickly.

And that... would be useful. John would not attack Sherlock, would not harm the detective, but it wasn't that hard to make the man do those things to himself. But John would go after Mycroft Holmes.

And that was all Jim would need. Plans beginning to form in his mind, the consulting criminal continued to drive to St. Bart's.