asdfghjkl; I CANNOT EVEN-
WOW. Thank you thank you THANK YOU for all the story alerts and favourites! Short-ish chapter but I need time to get some plot stuff together. AGAIN, thank you!
Warnings: Contains slash.
Disclaimer: Sherlock belongs to the BBC. I only own this plot.
John was frozen on the bottom step. For a second, everything seemed to shut down; his vision blurred, ringing started in his ears and his legs turned to jelly. Even the old shake in his hand was starting to come back.
"Well hello there Johnny boy. How nice of you to join us." Moriarty twirled the gun around in his hand. Sherlock kept his gaze fixed onto the wall in front of him, not daring to look at either of them.
"What do you want, Jim…" John kept his voice as steady as possible. How the psychopath was even released from jail was a mystery.
"I had a chance to think while I was in my nice, cosy cell last night. I was thinking how right you were." Moriarty smirked and stepped inside the door. Sherlock flinched and inched closer to John, glancing briefly at him. John could see the fear in his lover's eyes and his heartbeat sped up. "You see, it is you I want to hurt, John. But in order to do that I'll have to take away Sherlock now won't I?"
"You leave him alone!" John stepped down from the last step so he was between the two of them. Sighing dramatically, Moriarty pointed his gun at them both.
"I thought you would do this. Either you follow my orders or I kill you." Sherlock turned his head to Moriarty and opened his mouth.
"What do you want me to do?" The detective's mouth had run dry as he spoke for the first time.
"I want you to be a good lad and come with me. But you can't go around in your socks. John, be a good pet and get Sherlock some shoes and maybe a coat?" The gun had been lowered but the couple both knew if they didn't follow orders things could get ugly. Sherlock nodded at John once.
The doctor all but sprinted upstairs. He hadn't much time and he knew if he didn't hurry, Moriarty would get suspicious. Taking a piece of paper and a pen, he scribbled down a note; / I'm calling Mycroft, help is on the way. I'm going to find you Sherlock and I'm bringing my gun with me. I love you so much, don't ever forget that. / John made the note as small as possible so it would be less noticeable. Taking a pair of Sherlock's shoes, he slipped the note into the toe of the shoe, made sure it wasn't visible and went downstairs. He took up Sherlock's suit jacket from the couch too and when he got back downstairs, Moriarty looked quite impatient.
"These were the most comfy shoes I could find for you." John helped Sherlock put on his shoes and when he was done, Moriarty was on the verge of laughing at them.
"It's time to go, Sherlock." Moriarty pocketed his gun. Seeing the look on the couple's face, he rolled his eyes. "Oh come on now I'm not completely heartless. I'll give you two a minute to say goodbye." Smirking, he stood by the door. John got up and hugged Sherlock, inching backwards as if the hug had thrown them both off balance. In reality, it was just to get out of earshot.
"John-"The detective was cut off by John's lips, kissing him hard as if it were the last time they would ever be together. Who knew? It might just be.
"Sherlock listen to me." John's voice was barely a whisper, speaking into the kiss. "Are you listening?" A quick nod was given. "I've slipped a piece of paper into the toe of your left shoe. When he's not looking, take it out and read it." He kissed Sherlock again, slower this time. The detective's arms tightened around John's waist just not wanting to let go.
"I love you." Sherlock whispered as the broke apart. Their hands connected.
"I love you, too." John could feel his voice breaking. One of Sherlock's hands tenderly touched his lover's cheek, the other still holding John's.
"So sorry to break this little emotional sayonara," Moriarty's voice was mocking, "but we have a schedule Sherlock. Come along now." John and Sherlock kept staring at eachother as Sherlock slowly walked towards the door. Their hands finally separated and the detective was harshly shoved out.
As soon as the door closed, John broke down. He fell to his knees and held his tingling cheek. His tongue ran along his mouth where he could still taste Sherlock. His lover had been taken. Sobbing but refusing to let a single tear fall, John brought himself to his feet and ran blindingly up to his room. He fumbled around for his phone, searching for Mycroft's number.
"I already have a driver following them." Mycroft was sitting in Sherlock's armchair frowning. He looked like he had dressed in a bit of a hurry, hair not as smooth as it usually was. Maybe he had been pulled away from a secret lover? Then again, his younger brother got detective-napped so it could just be pure worry.
John was pacing back and forth, shaking his head, until Mycroft stood and sighed. "We still don't know how Moriarty escaped. I knew I should have stayed at home. Sometimes my men leave the sound off when they turn the cameras off."
"It's not your fault Mycroft. It's mine. I shouldn't have let Sherlock go!" John angrily snatched a bag from the ground and headed for the stairs.
"It wouldn't have worked. He had a gun, you said." Mycroft stood and sighed. "Look, go upstairs and pack a few things. By the time you come down I'll have a car ready and waiting." John was already gone up to his room by the last few words. He rushed around and shoved in random items of clothing, a watch, his phone charger and… Sherlock's scarf. He forgot to give Sherlock his long coat and scarf, the detective's two favourite items.
John sat on the edge of the bed and held the blue fabric scarf close to his nose. He inhaled deeply. A hint of Blonde Bombshell shampoo was mixed with the usual Sherlock scent. John smiled. "Using my shampoo again..."
"Yes, yes thank you Anthea. Tell James we shall be down in a few moments." Mycroft snapped his phone shut and watched as John descended the stairs. Sherlock's scarf was wrapped around his neck. "There is a driver waiting for us outside."
"Thanks." John looked over at Tobias and Bitsy, who were sitting together looking like two lost cats. "Oh I forgot about those two! Mycroft I can't leave them, they'll starve."
"It is sorted John. Mrs. Hudson your landlady will feed them on a regular basis."
"Sometimes I wonder how the world would function without a Mycroft Holmes." John bent down to give the cats a pet. "I'll be back before you know it. The nice old lady downstairs will take care of you. Tobias, look after Bitsy." As if Tobias knew what John was saying, the tabby tomcat nuzzled the smaller white kitten and gave her ears a lick.
"Are you ready, then?" Mycroft tapped his umbrella on the door.
"Yes. I've packed clothes for both myself and Sherlock." John took one last look around 221B Baker Street, taking in all the comforting mess before turning back to Mycroft. "Let's go."
Downstairs, Anthea was typing away on her Blackberry and didn't even look up as she said, "Good afternoon Doctor Watson."
"Afternoon." John replied.
"John this is James, my driver. James, this is John Watson – partner of Sherlock." Mycroft introduced the driver as he stepped out of the car and opened the other car doors. The elder Holmes brother then excused himself to take a phone-call.
"Nice to meet you, James." John greeted and offered his hand. He was bout John's height with dark brown hair and a slightly thinner physique.
"Likewise Mr. Watson." James shook John's hand briefly and then turned his attention to Mycroft when he hung up. "Where will we be driving today, Sir?"
"They're telling me he's headed for Sussex, so drive us there."
"That's over an hour away, isn't it?" John sat into the car and pinched the bridge of his nose. Anthea and Mycroft joined him and soon enough they were pulling away from Baker Street.
"It is, John. You should get some rest and I'll wake you if there's anything new." Mycroft smiled and tried to be re-assuring by patting John's knee. The doctor could only sigh and slump down in his seat, face buried in Sherlock's scarf.
Poor John…
Right, virtual high-fives have upgraded to virtual glomps; with honour. Keep reading and keep supporting the John/Sherlock love. Do any of you want to guess who Mycroft's secret lover might be? (I think we ALL know who that is.)