A/N: The return of Jimmy Boy! Updates will be Monday, Wednesday and Friday for now. I need more time to write. More fic recs later this week. Also, soon I will start fast forwarding through some things. Not just yet, though. I hope you enjoy, and thank every one of you for your kind reviews and favoriting!
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Moriarty slowly pulled away from Molly's flat.
Sherlock punched the partition with his fist. All that happened was that he got a very painful fist.
"Nope," Moriarty said simply, driving.
Sherlock tried the door handles. Neither worked.
"No, again," Moriarty said.
Sherlock pulled out his Browning.
"Are you sure you want to risk that, honey?"
Sherlock slowly lowered the gun. Moriarty smiled.
"Good. I really do prefer you behaving to my having to blow people up at this hour. So tedious. Makes it hard to relax. Speaking of relaxing, why don't you? If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead."
"What do you want?" Sherlock asked flatly, holding the gun in his lap.
"Just a chat, that's all. Your date went splendidly, by the way. Bravo."
"I didn't have much choice, did I?"
Moriarty chuckled. "Oh, Sherlock. You had all kinds of choices. You still do. It's just that we both know what you'll decide before you even make them. Tell me truthfully: was going out with Molly that much of a hardship?"
"The hardship is you playing this… sick, twisted cupid. You know you won't win."
"Oh, I disagree."
"You would, just for the sake of it."
"Wrong, Sherlock. I don't like to waste my time any more than you do."
"Then why are you doing this!" Sherlock shouted.
"I already told you."
"Yes, yes, so I can experience love," Sherlock said dismissively. "But why? Why is that so important to you?"
"Are you kidding me? You, the great detective who keeps most of his feelings locked up in some room in a mind palace? You really don't understand why I want you to fall in love?"
Sherlock went still. "We're just alike, you and I."
"You have fallen in love before," he said softly. "And I haven't, and you can't stand me having that over you."
Moriarty said nothing for a moment. Then: "We have to stay on the same page, you and me."
"You fell in love, and you hated yourself for that," Sherlock continued relentlessly.
"I DIDN'T WANT TO!" Moriarty screamed suddenly, the car swerving a bit. His hands gripped the wheel tightly before he got control of himself. "Never. I never wanted to fall in love. A stupid, weak distraction. It shouldn't have been possible. But it was."
"You'll forgive me if I'm not sympathetic," Sherlock said coldly. "And how the hell did you ever fall in love? You don't love anyone but yourself."
"Even a demon can die, Sherlock. And even a demon can fall in love. Without light, there is no darkness. And I don't want your sympathy. I want it to happen to you. And it will."
"You are trying very hard to convince yourself of that."
"No. I don't need convincing. You do. For now. But that will change, Sherlock. You'll go from doubt to amazement to acceptance. Like the four stages of grief, in a way, isn't it?"
Sherlock sighed. "I am not going to fall in love."
"Oh, going into it kicking and screaming, aren't you. Don't blame you. I wouldn't want to accept it either, if I were you. But you will. It'll happen before you know it."
Sherlock glared at him. "What makes you so sure of that?"
"Because we're just alike, remember? I'm you and you're me. And if a demon can fall in love, so can an angel."
"I'm not an angel," Sherlock said in a hard, clipped voice.
"Close enough to one. And no matter how much you say otherwise, you know you can. Because I know your dirty little secret, Sherlock. I know why you keep it all locked up in the mind palace. And I soooo hate to burst your bubble, but daddy's got the key. Do you hear me knocking? Because I'm coming in." Sherlock glared again, and Moriarty smiled.
"Don't fight it, Sherlock. "It'll be easier for everyone if you just give in."
"There is nothing to fight," Sherlock said angrily. "There is a distinct absence of feelings for me to give in to."
"We both know that's not quite true."
Sherlock leaned back with another sigh.
"Well, enough chatting for now. Time to get you home! Oh, the picnic. Find a nice place to take her. Scare up some wine and chocolate. Women love that, you know. Then… oh, I dunno: cuddle and look up at the sky or something. And make out a bit, too. Get her worked up but not too much. It's not quite time yet to change your status."
"And after?" Sherlock asked calmly, ignoring the bait.
"Take her home, you git. This time go inside for tea. A bit more making out. She goes back to work the day after tomorrow and she's working morning shift. Tell her you'll stop by and see her. When you do, ask her on date number three for the next night."
There was a pause. "Which will be what?"
Moriarty shook his head. "Later, dearest. Now tomorrow day, you'd best start trying to find me. Or find some clues at least. Can't let your great romance go to your head too much!"
"No, we can't," Sherlock said sarcastically.
"That's all for now. We've got a bit of time left. I thought I'd play you a song. Another great tune for your soundtrack."
Sherlock sat bolt upright. "My soundtrack."
"Well, yours and Molly's, that is. Every good movie needs a good soundtrack, Sherlock. So shush up and listen."
Sherlock closed his eyes for a second, lips tightening. He opened his eyes and sat back again as the music started.
Under blue moon I saw you
So soon you'll take me
Up in your arms
Too late to beg you or cancel it
Though I know it must be
The killing time
Unwillingly mine
Fate
Up against your will
Through the thick and thin
He will wait until
You give yourself to her
In starlit nights she saw you
So cruelly you kissed her
Your lips a magic world
Your sky all hung with jewels
The killing moon
Will come too soon
Fate
Up against your will
Through the thick and thin
He will wait until
You give yourself to her
By now they were in front of 221 B. Sherlock remained silent and motionless until the song ended. Then he asked quietly: "any other instructions?"
"Yes. Another movie. Watch Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist. And a package will arrive for you in the morning. Don't worry: it will have instructions. Have a good night, Romeo."
The clicking sound returned. Sherlock got out of the taxi and slammed the door shut as hard as he could. It sped off and he watched it go with narrowed eyes and an uneasy mind.
"The Killing Moon" by Echo & the Bunnymen, 1984, Korova Records. Some lyrics slightly modified to better fit the story. No copyright infringement intended.