John Watson was scared. Not that he hadn't been kidnapped before, but this time was different. This time it was much more scary. He knew why he was here, as insurance, to make sure Sherlock stayed in the game. Looking at his surroundings, he almost laughed at how cliché they were. A plain white room, with no furniture at all, except for the pole he was handcuffed to, if that counted. 'How long am I going to be here? If only I hadn't run off on Sherlock like that, we might've been able to fend those brutes off.

'Mr Watson.' For a moment John thought he was going crazy, until he finally noticed the tiny speaker set into the wall directly in front of him.

'What have you done with Sherlock? What are you going to do to me?'

Silence. Cold,dead silence. John's didn't quite know how long for. It was probably only ten or twenty seconds, but it flt like a lifetime. 'Maybe they can't hear me...'

'Interesting.'

'What?' He asked, evidently puzzled by the statement.

'You ask about Sherlock before you ask about yourself.'

'Just answer my question.' A slight note of anger crept it's way into John's voice.

'Sherlock will be...playing for the foreseeable future. Although, I sincerely doubt he'll win.'

'Rubbish. Sherlock Holmes is better than you'll ever be!'

More silence. The mysterious voice was clearly waiting for him to say something else.

'Well...what if he doesn't win? What if he loses?'

'He dies. And so do you.'

'Oh god.'

'I'm never going to see him again, and the last thing I ever said to him was that he was a "selfish, sociopathic bastard." Shit. Shitty, shit, shit. '

Meanwhile, Sherlock and Moriarty were sitting in a car. Sherlock wasn't quite sure where they were going, as the windows were tinted, but he figured it would be some remote location. 'Maybe John will be here, he thought. 'Maybe John will be here and we can run away.'

Not likely.

'What does this 'tea party' involve?' Sherlock broke the silence with his question, not that he thought for a second that it would be answered.

'You'll find out soon, we're here.' Moriarty answered; a creepy grin plastered to his face, as per usual.

'I don't like you playing games with me.' Sherlock was fiddling with the buttons on his coat, his voice in monotone. Not when John is involved. Not when his life is at stake.

'Life is a game Sherlock, just a game. Stop excluding yourself. Play, for once, play, just like everyone else.'

Sherlock remained silent as they entered a...garage of some sort. Yes. It must've been a garage, Moriarty wouldn't park his cars just anywhere. The windows were tinted though, so he had no idea of what would await him as soon as he stepped out of the vehicle.

The garage was empty and dull. Just a bit like Moriarty then. Sherlock struggled not to laugh at this, although he wasn't quite sure why. Maybe it was a nervous thing. Moriarty led him to a door and stood beside it, obviously expecting him to open it.

'Go on, Sherlock.'

He took a deep breath, and opened the door.

The first smile he'd had in hours began to form on his face, and tears began to blur his vision.

Tied to a pole, on the other side of the door, was John Watson.

'John! Are you ok? Did they hurt you? They didn't did they? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please, forgive me...please...I...'

'It's ok Sherlock, really. I'm fine.'

'No you're not.' Sherlock indicated a gash on John's cheek.

'It's not that bad; I didn't even notice it.'

'I...I just I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let you go out on your own.'

'Sherlock, don't blame yourself, he would've got me sooner or later.'

'But I could've done something!'

'Hey, you did your best.' John lowered his gaze to the floor, 'I'm the one who should be apologising, for what I called you.'

Sherlock tensed slightly at that statement. 'No, you were...you were right.'

'Sherlock! You might be a sociopath, but I was totally wrong to call you selfish, and a bastard.'

'I don't mind, John. People call me names all the time.'

'But you did mind, didn't you. You don't have to be the world's only consulting detective to tell you were hurt by what I said.'

'You know me too well.' He said it almost as if he resented John for knowing.

'Don't say that, Sherlock. You know I care about you.'

'Boys, boys. I rather think that's enough of a reunion, don't you?' Moriarty was standing on the other side of the room, his arms crossed.'Let's go Sherlock! We have a game to play.'

'Bu-But... he only just got here...' John begged. He didn't want to see Sherlock go so soon.

'Oh, don't worry, you'll get to see him soon enough, as long as he tries hard enough, not that he will.'

Sherlock brought his attention back to John, 'I promise, I won't let him beat me, no matter what he has planned.'

John closed his eyes fir a moment, then opened them again. 'Good luck.'

Sherlock scoffed. 'Please, I don't need luck.'

Sherlock and Moriarty were sitting at a table, not much different from the one at the park. All Sherlock could think about was John. He was scared about the game he was about to play, mainly because John was at stake. He didn't want to lose him.

No, he thought, no... he couldn't lose him.

That would be disastrous.

'Sorry to interrupt your little day-dream, but I am ever so eager to start.'

'Oh, er, right.'

'This game will be a battle of the wits, if you'll forgive the cliché.' Sherlock remained motionless, his eyes fixed on the man sitting opposite him. 'You will try to escape this warehouse. You have as long as you like, unless you want your precious John of course, in which case you have...30 hours.'

'A time limit, really now? You do know that's only a cheap trick to make things more exciting.'

'You would rather that it be boring?'

'Perhaps.'

'Says the man who will do anything to avert boredom.'

'Psh, I could think of better things to be doing than this...game.'

'Tea-party.'

'What?'

'It's a tea-party.'

'How exactly? Escaping a warehouse isn't exactly very tea-party like, is it?'

'Mr Holmes, you will find out in time. Have patience.'

'Fine. When do I start?'

He glanced at his watch. 'Now. Your time starts...10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1...Go. Have fun Sherlock~!'

'How can I have fun? If I screw this up, I die and so does John.'

Sherlock Holmes stood up, with a dramatic flair of his coat, and stepped through the door.