A few warnings:

1. For this and the next chapter, this will switch between John and Sherlock's pov. I'm not sure how well this will work but otherwise it's far too hard to follow in just Sherlock's pov.

2. These next two chapter are shorter than the normal ones.

3. If you've read Paved with Love you know what's coming!

4. I so should be doing ui work. If i'm on here sobbing tomorrow it's because I failed!

Thanks for the reviews for last chapter. I hope you all enjoy this one as well :)

John Watson was not a foolish man. There were times when he felt like he was, but that was one of the side effects of living with a genius.

And dating a genius.

And being in love with a genius.

So, when Sherlock came up with the plan to play Moran and Moriarty against each other , John listened and allowed Sherlock to prattle on about his plan.

It was only after days of thinking it through from every conceivable angle and talking to Mycroft that John had agreed, to his own horror, that Sherlock was right. There was no other way out of this but to practically beg Moran to take aim at Sherlock.

John hated it.

Then came the next mad plan. The one where Sherlock insisted that they needed to have a believable reason for Sherlock suddenly striking back. The one where Sherlock insisted that they needed to find a way to let Moriarty believe he was on equal footing with Sherlock and the one where Sherlock could control what Moriarty attempted to disrupt.

Namely that they would show Moriarty what he wanted to see; Sherlock bored and frustrated by his relationship with John. That he cared for John, but was struggling with the domesticity of it all.

That grated far too close for comfort.

It was only when Sherlock came back for the fourth time with a wound that something started to sound in John's head.

Alarm bells.

But he couldn't put his finger on exactly what he was becoming suspicious about. Sherlock was being truthful, he was being honest. The problem was that he wasn't being particularly forthcoming about anything.

At all.

That was hardly a surprise. Sherlock was Sherlock. But still there was something just outside of his grasp, something teasing at the corner of his mind.

It was only when Sherlock made an off handed comment about John being just about capable of getting the correct type of mould from Molly that John blinked in realisation halfway down the street.

Sherlock was diminishing John in Moriarty's eyes. Cuckolding Moriarty into believing that John was blind to Sherlock's moods, playing down their connection and their trust in each other.

After that it all tumbled into sense.

Sherlock wasn't going to lose because his plan wasn't the same as John's.

While John wanted them all to survive, Sherlock seemed perfectly willing to do whatever it took to ensure John and Ava were safe; whether he won and defeated Moriarty or died and ensured Moriarty never had a reason to glance at John again.

It was worryingly easy to follow Sherlock from a distance So easy in fact that John's heart beat a little faster at seeing just how exposed Sherlock allowed himself to be when he wasn't with John.

Bastard.

6th March - Sherlock

Sherlock shook the phone with distaste, avoiding John's amused look. "It's dead." He complained. "Why is it dead?"

"Maybe because you think you're too smart to need to double check if the charger is plugged in properly." John offered with a false smile.

It had been in properly…perhaps the plug socket was faulty...Either way John looked entirely too smug about the situation.

"You do realise that your phone isn't going to magically charge up by you staring at it." John finished doing up his shirt as Sherlock sprawled out on the bed, recharged from his four hours of sleep,

"I need it," Sherlock snarled. "Now."

"You're not even dressed."

"That hardly takes a moment." Sherlock dismissed. "Give me yours."

"Ah, no." John backed away, as if that would help matters, keeping his back to the wall which meant his phone had been slipped into his back pocket at some point.

Sherlock launched himself off the bed, narrowing his gaze at John assessing.

"You're not serious!" John tried to laugh, but faltered with worry.

Sherlock just smirked and darted forward, trapping John between his arms and between his body and the door.

"Give it to me," He ordered.

Johns gaze darted down to Sherlock's mouth almost automatically.

Interesting.

And fruitless. Despite the fact that there had barely been a moment to engage in sex for the past week, there was even less time to make room for it now.

Still, Sherlock wasn't above using it for his own ends.

John's eyes glazed a little when Sherlock let one hand drop, tantalisingly slowly down John's side until he could tease the soft flesh that was accessible between where shirt and trouser met. As if trained, John arched into the touch and raised his lips, pushing himself off the door as they kissed slowly…

Sherlock pulled away with some effort once the phone was in his hand.

"You fucking tosser!" John hissed furiously.

"John-"

But John was already slamming out of the room.

With the final arrest of Katy Roberts two days ago, a story that he had actually managed to stay out of for once, Sherlock could now focus on the assassins ring. There were at least two in London and Sherlock had managed to crack the code they used with each other.

Temporarily apparently.

Mycroft stood in front of the CCTV footage, frowning. "He's worked it out," he said with irritation as they watched weeks of planning fall apart.

"It was always likely that he would." Sherlock replied, lounging in the chair. "That was never the exercise."

Though clearly his brother had hoped it would be.

"Reports say that Moran and Moriarty have been in the room for hours with each other." Mycroft said offhandedly. Really, his people were so well trained at confirming the obvious.

"They stopped arguing twenty minutes ago," Sherlock checked John's phone again in case one of the homeless network had sent him an update. There was still nothing and he moved to stand, eager to get out of Mycroft's way when the inevitable sulk came at thing having not gone his way.

"You are not permitted to leave Sherlock." Mycroft said without turning around. "Not until we have discussed what comes next.

Fine.

"I need to annoy Moran in a more direct way." Sherlock begun, "You will contact the team working on him, not Hammonds though, and inform them that they need to-"

"John says that your plan B is to get yourself killed."

John.

There was the strangest mixture of pride and pain in his chest. Pride that John had worked it out and pain for the exact same reason. The man always managed to slip in when Sherlock wasn't paying attention.

"I'm being utilitarian." Sherlock replied, narrowing his gaze at his brothers back. "Surely you appreciate that?"

"Not particularly. And neither does John."

"He coped once before. I updated my will ten days ago to ensure the finances won't be an issue again but this time Moriarty should ignore-"

"Should?" Mycroft turned around. "You're willing to sacrifice yourself on "Should"? Even at five years old you would never have done anything so foolish."

"I have limited options." Sherlock stared at the phone as if he could will it to go off.

"You wish to gamble? Then leave John."

Ice settled in the pit of his stomach. "Moriarty would see through the ruse-"

"Would he? You seemed to have flawlessly convinced him that you are struggling with your relationship. John stormed out of your flat earlier on in such a foul mood I was amazed you let him go. It wouldn't be hard Sherlock, to convince Moriarty."

"Whether we are in a relationship or not, John will always be significant and a far better target for Moriarty than some random person on the street." Sherlock twisted the phone in his fingers, as if just holding onto something of John's could fool him into believing that the man was standing with him.

"And if you die, leaving me to fight your battle, do you not think that John will remain significant only without your protection?"

Uncomfortable Sherlock dug his hands into his pockets.

"You're a coward Sherlock. You simply don't want to be the last one to fall." Mycroft turned back to the CCTV footage. "John deserves better than that."

Emotion reared up within him, chocking him. But he swallowed it back, watching Mycroft's stance and observing that his brother seemed to think the conversation was over.

"We're the same." Sherlock heard himself say. "But John keeps me from being him."

Mycroft's head turned fractionally, like a dog that had heard an interesting noise in the distance.

"If John went away…I'd destroy everything in my path. I'd be worse than James Moriarty." Sherlock stood. "And John would hate that far more than anything else."

6th March - John

M and M left. Mn hid gun from Mty.

John stared at the message that beeped on his phone in confusion before remembering that the reason he'd been unable to put the damn thing on silent was because it was Sherlock's fancy contraption and not his own, standard phone that did only what you would expect from a phone.

So if this had been intended for Sherlock…

John's heart froze.

God no.

"Are you alright dear?" asked Mrs Beecham, the sweet sixty nine year old who had waved him on when he'd apologised for the text alert going off in the middle of their chat about her diabetes.

"I…"he looked up at her, "I um…my daughter. She's had a fall."

The lie tripped off his tongue easily enough.

"And they can tell you by that?" she pointed at the phone. "Those schools are so modern now."

"Yeah…I am sorry, I'll see if a colleague can see to you right away-"

"You go on," she seemed perfectly content to stay in the chair. "And see if you can send in another handsome young man."

John paused and blinked at her in confusion. "I-"

"Just go dear."

Outside of the surgery, John paused in the middle of sending off a text to his own phone.

He needed to be prepared.

Hailing down a taxi he started a new text.

Homeless network sent message to your phone by mistake. SM has a gun he's hiding from JM.

Minutes later a text came back.

CCTV picked it up. Why do you have my phone? SH

Because you have mine. It seemed fair. Where are you?

This time the message was returned in seconds.

Do not come looking for me John. Wait at work. SH

John refused to dignify that with a response.

I mean it. Stay at work. You'll only get in the way. SH

Dick.

6th March - Sherlock

Sherlock stared at John's phone, trying to imagine the reaction John was having. It seemed likely he was glaring and probably trying to cover his annoyance up so as not to scare his patients.

An argument was likely to occur tonight. A blazing row where John would undoubtedly make Sherlock feel guilty and apologetic and then forgive him which would make Sherlock feel worse.

"What would be the benefits, to leaving John?" Sherlock asked suddenly.

Mycroft turned in surprise from his phone conversation with Hammonds and put the obnoxious man on hold.

"You may be able to convince Moriarty that your feelings have truly run their course and you have been dissuaded of the notion of caring. But you would have to be absolute in it Sherlock; any hint that you were doing it to protect John would just make things worse."

Could he do it? This would be the turning point; from here it would be possible to fix the damage he'd caused over the past two weeks or start to ruin their relationship completely.

It was something to consider.

Not far away John opened the door to the flat and stopped dead and the sight in front of him.

He wasn't a fool. There was no point in begging or pleading or even running. Not when Sebastian Moran sat in his chair, angled directly opposite the door with a gun in his hand and a pleasant smile on his face.

AN

It's not really a cliffhanger! You sort of know what happens...And I assume it's a little more obvious as to why I needed to have John's pov given that Sherlock isn't in the flat!