Mycroft Holmes was a powerful man even in the worst of times. He had several connections within the British Government which gave him quite the measure of control over several aspects of it. Hence his brother's insistence on claiming he was the 'British Government'…Not so inaccurate a description, though technically he did only hold a 'minor' position.

Given this, it was not often that Mycroft received a summons from a prisoner of all people. It wasn't as if the common prisoner would even be aware of who he was. That was even given the possibility of them knowing his little brother. Considering the peculiarity of the situation the elder Holmes brother had eventually decided to humor the request to the extent of requesting the files on one Sebastian Moran. His interest had been peaked, after all. Something that didn't happen often considering he worked with plenty of people with intelligences that paled greatly in comparison to his own intellect and even Sherlock's. That interest grew when he learned that Sherlock had been the one to find and apprehend the man. Apparently he'd been the assassin that he and Detective-Inspector Lestrade had been hunting down when John Watson was being hand delivered to a hospital after his kidnapping. Then there was the added fact that the man had been injured in the chase. Expecting to receive some form of threat to his younger brother, Mycroft finally got around to accepting the request of a meeting.

It was why he was finding himself before Sebastian Moran now. The sniper's expression filled with nothing but smug satisfaction as he watched Mycroft. The elder Holmes merely looked back with indifference as if his time was being wasted sitting within the prison to meet with the man at all. It was rather easy for him to pull off as his time was being wasted.

"Never thought I'd meet –"

"Do forgive me, Mr. Moran, but I do have a rather tight schedule." Mycroft sighed, wondering why he'd decided to come in person instead of sending Anthea. "I assume you wish to speak of my brother?" The sniper smirked in response as he leaned back into his chair and kicked his feet up onto the table. Mycroft glanced at them, unimpressed.

"Oh no, Mr. Holmes…I want to talk about John Watson." He said, and despite himself Mycroft found himself blinking once in surprise.

"What concerns could you possibly have with Dr. Watson?" the elder Holmes ventured. Sebastian grinned.

John groaned softly as he blinked awake. Light was filtering in from the sliver of space between the thick curtains over the windows that were otherwise keeping the room dark. The assassin took a moment to try and recollect where he was and why his body ached as it did. It took several moments than longer than is should have for him to remember due to his still sleep addled mind. His gaze, however, was son drawn to the body laying next to him as he became aware of the possessive arm curled around his waist and the body pressed close behind him. He could identify the stiffness and marks for what they were now. Dark bruises on his hips from fingers, scratches, bites, and Jim looked in no better a state than John. All of this visible as both men were naked beneath the strewn about sheets and blankets. As John thought over everything he was seeing and what he could remember from the haze induced from the anger and frustration of the previous night, the assassin slowly felt anger boil up again. He'd slept with Jim Moriarty.

His anger was more towards himself necessarily than Jim, but it was far too easy to target the criminal as an outlet for his rage. It wasn't even the 'not gay' next morning panic. That wasn't even an issue because while he adamantly denied being gay it was cleverness and a way to further his own cover. He'd never lied to say he wasn't gay because he wasn't. He was bisexual, so waking up next to another man wasn't a problem in the slightest. It was who he'd woke up next to and why he was in the first place. Both men had lost their control the previous night. Tempers had imploded, and John hadn't been thinking clearly since the initial panic from the chaos erupting at the Fairchild mansion. The argument with Jim, the scuffle, and then the man kissing him? It had thrown his already struggling judgment out of sink and he'd just gone with everything. It wasn't as if Jim wasn't unattractive after all, and during their little tumble John hadn't thought much further than the fact there was an attractive man coming onto him and he needed to work off his own rage and other things that had been building since he'd taken the bullet. It had been an utter loss of control on his part, and as an assassin he couldn't afford that. There was also the fact that Sherlock was his best friend, and Jim wanted the man dead or something similar. They had yet to discuss anything involving Sherlock in their little arrangement beyond small talk. A fact that needed to be amended because he wasn't about to hurt Sherlock or anyway or allow Jim to do so. Sex didn't make them anything more than assassin and criminal that had started to get a bit closer than they should have. He'd obviously learned his lesson.

Once everything clicked well enough, John's jaw tightened and he tried pulling himself away from Jim. The arm around his waist tightened in response and he was only pulled back into the other man's naked form. Back to chest. The surprising strength that Jim possessed coming into effect once more much to the assassin's continued frustration. He tried pulling away again and unwinding the arm from around him, and a chuckle from behind him sounded as he felt Jim's lips suddenly ghosting over the side of his neck and ear. Breath warm and hot.

"Going somewhere, Johnny?" the man purred, and John's fingers curled into claws. A few seconds to try and calm himself down again as blind rage had gotten himself into this situation in the first place.

"Yeah, actually. Shower." John said, and despite his best efforts his voice betrayed him and sounded on edge. "By myself, thanks very much." He added when he practically felt the smirk starting to form against his skin. There was only the slightest falter before Jim was recovering.

"I'd imagine you might want one," he finally hummed, and the arm around John's waist loosened its grip and slipped away again. John slid out of the bed and smoothly walked out of the bedroom. Naked and marked. On the way through the sitting room he grabbed some fresh clothes from his bag and immediately went to the shower and locked the door behind him in case the criminal hadn't gotten the hint. The sex had been completely consensual. Somehow John had a serious issue with seeing Jim as a person that would go any further without his partner's consent. The man might be a psychopath, but apparently one with standards because he really was having an awful time seeing the man forcing anyone into that situation even with everything else he'd done. Even so, that didn't mean he wanted to deal with the other trying to sneak his way into getting a shower with him when all they'd do was argue sooner. That would come when he was clean, and the inside of his thighs weren't still sticky from what was left of their actions.

The shower was welcome. The water scalding hot and quickly steaming up the bathroom and turning John's own skin red from the heat. It felt good. He cleaned himself thoroughly and looked over the worst of the bites and scratches. Many of which had broke skin and drew blood. None of the marks would show if he was careful enough with what he wore, however. There weren't any marks above his collar bone, and that was the biggest issue he'd have had with hiding things had that been different. He'd stayed with Jim –or rather at the man's flat—for around a month as he healed. It was time he went back to Baker Street where he should have been healing in the first place. When he'd jumped in front of a bullet for Jim, when he'd been kidnapped by the Russians that wanted him dead because of his affiliation with Jim, that all should have been indicators that he needed to get out while he still had a chance. While there was still time before he did something so utterly idiotic as to have sex with the man after being a part of a major shooting incident. What was he even thinking? He didn't need that much attention potentially focused on him, and as he showered and did his best to wash away the evidence of what had happened between him and Jim he only hoped he wasn't missing something that Sherlock would be able to pick up later.

When the assassin finally got out of the shower he dried himself off and dressed before padding out to the sitting room. Jim was waiting for him. The criminal had also dressed in 'casual' clothes and was lounging on one of the sofas. He smirked at John when the assassin appeared, but John watched as the smirk slowly lost the amusement it had before and became a touch hollow and colder. A reaction that was more than likely brought about by the fact that John was packing up his bag and searching around for his things. Going to retrieve his phone and the like. Even an idiot would know that John was getting ready to leave.

"I didn't take you for the type to leave the morning after," Jim commented.

"I hope you're joking. I am an assassin." John replied coolly.

"I'm the head of a criminal empire," Jim reminded dryly. "This isn't about anything so dull as orientation…You've obviously been with a man before since you were plenty experienced Johnny-boy."

"Yeah, not happening again." The assassin said, and it was only a step down from snapping at Jim.

"Touchy," the criminal hummed in response. "You're not taking your gun."

"You can keep the damned thing," John replied with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. "Don't come to me with any more of your contracts. I've done plenty for you."

"Sorry, Johnny, but I need an assassin." Jim said, voice growing deadly serious as his accent thickened with it.

"Go find Moran in prison," this time John did snap. "I've already taken a bullet for you, I don't owe you anything else."

"Two answers," Jim replied, and John turned to face the man as confusion flickered across his expression. "We made a bet that we each asked a question and answered truthfully. I still have two questions."

John scoffed as he remembered. "You're also the one that said it was a game for kids."

"Well you are acting childish Johnny." Jim commented lazily. John wasn't amused.

"Don't come to me for anything else," John repeated, and slung his bag over his shoulder before making his way towards the door. His senses were near hyper-aware as he expected some kind of movement to occur in an attempt to stop him, threaten him, or maybe even go so far as kill him. With Jim it was impossible to tell at times.

"Did you enjoy it? The sex, of course." Jim called after him. For a few seconds, John debated on whether he should lie about something so trivial. It wasn't like this meant anything. Obvious as he fully intended to go back to his flatmate and forget this had even happened and that he'd taken so many idiotic risks. Thrills and danger were what he was addicted to, but there was a fine line between the thrills he wanted and knew he could handle than the ones he'd been taking where it was far more likely to risk everything he'd worked towards and for. To keep his profession away from the prying eyes of the Holmes brother, Lestrade, and the like.

"Yes," John answered and he opened the door. "I did." He slipped out and promptly moved out onto the streets.

Sherlock knew that the event at the Fairchild mansion had to be the work of Moriarty. Further so when his brother called him and informed the detective that he should allow Mycroft's own people to handle the investigation. As per usual, he'd refused, and they'd moved on to the topic of John Watson.

"I'll be calling him back from his sister's as soon as possible," Sherlock was saying as he looked over another blood stain in the wreck of the ballroom at the mansion. "I need his assistance if Moriarty is involved." After the episode with John being kidnapped, Sherlock had become far more determined in catching the consultant criminal before he could try and harm anyone else in some misguided attempt to get to him.

"Do you really think that's wise?" Mycroft questioned over the line, and it brought Sherlock up short as he hadn't expected his brother to be against John rejoining him.

"Of course it is." He said slowly. "His wound would have healed –most of the way, there should still be tenderness but nothing overly harmful. There is no reason to keep him out of this case."

"Except of course for the fact that Dr. Watson was kidnapped by the very man that you're hunting down. Do think, brother mine. Is it wise to allow to place a chronic sufferer of PTSD into an environment where any errant word could trigger a breakdown? The man was tortured."

Sherlock scoffed. "When did you start showing sentiment?"

"I'm not," Mycroft replied coolly. "This is merely logical. Leave John Watson out of this case and allow him to heal fully. A few months should suffice." Sherlock wasn't fond of the idea, of course. He wanted to have John back and working with him on the case. It had been very different without the man in the flat. The detective loathed sentiment as it left one weak more often than not, but even so he could not deny that John was his best friend. His only true friend, really. There was Lestrade, of course. Molly on a good day. Mrs. Hudson. All of them did not mean quite the same as his best friend, however.

"Alright, Mycroft." Sherlock said over the phone with an irritated sigh. "I will be calling on him within a few months."

"Of course. That is to be expected." Mycroft agreed, oddly civil. The elder Holmes exchanged a few more words with his younger sibling before slipping the sleek mobile phone into the pocket of his suit jacket.

"Funny how the world works." He said as he idly stood straight and swung his ever present umbrella up so he could inspect it. His expression was a masked calm, but his eyes were sharp. Cold. Repressing fury in a way that only a Holmes could as a thin, mirthless smile stretched across his pursed lips.

"My brother finally finds someone to become attached to. To have any semblance of sentiment towards. The very same person, who happens to be living nearly the largest lie that I've ever encountered before. Quite interesting, wouldn't you say Dr. Watson?" Mycroft said, gaze flicking to the man in the room with him. John was glaring at the elder Holmes with a coldness that he'd never seen in the blue eyes before. Even so, what was a truly formidable look was somewhat tainted by the sliver of fear that had wormed its way in as well. Intensified by the fact the man was bound to a chair and gagged. Crude methods, admittedly. Then again, Sherlock wasn't the only one with a flair for the dramatics.

"Then again, you're not really a doctor now, are you?" Mycroft continued. "I must say that the genuine lack of intelligence on you is impressive. It has taken this long to figure out what you were, but I'm nothing if not efficient. Once I had the clues, it was child's play to find the other contracts you've taken. The hits you've carried out…The people that want you dead." Mycroft slowly twisted the handle of the umbrella, and slowly slid it out. Sword. A fencer's sword, to be exact. Incredibly sharp, but very thin as it did rest inside his umbrella. He wasn't a novice, but he also had little cause to use the thing anymore since he had his own assets and security measures. Nevertheless it was proving to be quite convenient for him.

"I might have even allowed the secrecy to last, but then I became aware of who you're current employer is. Given this information, I've seen fit that I'll be handling all efforts to dispose of you once you cease to be useful. So tell me, Dr. Watson…How long have you been working for one James Moriarty?"

Yeah…So everything is escalating quickly, but as always I listen to what the story wants and its decided this is happening now.

I love the reviews I've been getting, and I appreciate them all.

Also, I shall refrain from leaving spoilers and simply express this in layman fangirl terms that those who have watched will understand…

I MISSED HIM VERY MUCH! I FEEL BETTER WRITING THIS FIC NOW!

Have a good day

Reaperess ^_^