Chapter 3: Ka-Boom

"WAIT! Wait. If you press that button we all go up. Now just John" Sherlock shouted, holding his hands up in front of him and edging forward.

"I'm not incompetent. I do know."

"Just think about this, surely there's an easier way to do this…without this much collateral. A version where you don't die"

"Dying doesn't bother me Sherlock, everyone dies. It how we go out. What does bother me is knowing my enemy will get away. As long as this is carried out, I will be at peace."

"Why do you hate me so much. I don't even know you!"

"That's were your wrong" Moriarty smirked. He went to press the button for a second time, but Sherlock knew he'd draw it out, he was dramatic after all. That's when he lunged. Sherlock lunged at Moriarty, holding his arm down and prying the key ring from his hands…it was all too easy.

John was waking now, groaning at his pounding head and realising he couldn't move his arms. Right, I'm still here. He looked up, eyes adjusting to the light to see Sherlock and his capturer in a scuffle. He smiled, Sherlock had come for him. It all happened too quickly, one minute they were on the floor, tumbling and grunting, punching and kicking, and then there was gun to his head and everything stopped.

"I can still blow him up you know…this device has heat sensors, you know what that means, don't you? That means, the second he has no pulse, the second he goes cold, or tried to get the jacket off. BOOM!" Moriarty signalled an explosion with his hands, gun still aimed at John's head.

"Lower the gun"

"Hand me the trigger device."

"The gun"

"The device"

"The gun" Sherlock spat.

"What makes you think you have the upper hand here? Is it the button? Well, I hate to break it to you, but all It does is make the good doctor here go boom, and that was my end result anyway. I fail to see exactly how you're in control"

"You, always the narcissist. You love being in control, of life, and death. There is a way to stop the bomb. Its obvious, encase this didn't turn out exactly as you planned. Of course you thought it would end in your favour, you planned it to end in your favour, but what you didn't plan for is me tackling you for this device. You thought I wouldn't have the guts. Too much at stake by one little move"

"There isn't, your wrong"

"No, I'm right, you wanna know how?"

"Enlighten me"

"What you failed to put into consideration is that John was in the army."

"So?"

"So, he dealt with bombs, he knows them quite well, do you really think he wouldn't know if something was no right, something that is not typically on a bomb, an extra switch, per say. An off button. No doubt you've actually marked it as such"

"Go on then, try it, see where it gets you" Moriaty smirked.

"This is all an act, I can see right through you. John, flip the switch"

John glared at Sherlock. "Oh yeah, of course I can flip the switch with my arms being free and that, they're defiantly not tied to a chair or anything".

"Is he always this cranky?" Moriarty almost laughed.

" Shut it you." John glared once more

"Coming from the man tied to a chair"

"Oh don't underestimate me, son."

"What are you going to do? Go all Houdini on us? Let me guess, you learnt that in the army too."

"You wait"

"For what? Christmas? I have plans you know, I don't traipse around following people everywhere they go like a love sick puppy"

"You what! God, you're gunna wish I was tied to this chair once I get my bloody hands on you!" John shouted.

"SILENCE!" Sherlock shouted, John and Moriaty looking around in shock. "Thank you, you can have your little childish spat later".

"He's only jealous he's not that one giving sarcastic remarks, aren't you Sherly-baby?" Moriarty teased. John laughed.

"You lack imagination. John, stop laughing, you'll hurt your ribs"

"What he meant to say is, your laughing will hurt your ribs, what's the matter Sherly? Your brain malfunctioning under pressure? How sad. I tell you what is sad, your affection towards Johnny-boy here, its touching, but useless."

"Back to the subject at hand, I've got a gun."

"Okay…am I supposed to be scared? You didn't need to state the obvious, of course your armed, it would be stupid not to considering your going into unknown territory with someone who has explosives and your…friend. I'm surprised you didn't bring more"

Sherlock raised his gun and aimed it at Moriarty's head. He smiled before looking down at John and asking if he was okay.

"Apart from the splitting headache, the pain in my ribs, the gun to my forehead and the bomb strapped to my chest, just great!" John moaned.

"Sounds like I'll be doing him a favour if I shoot him, put his out of all this pain and trauma" Moriarty pushed the gun closer to John's head in effect.

"Thanks for the offer but I'd rather not be blown to pieces if it's all the same" John retorted.

"What you also haven't considered is if I was to shoot you first" Sherlock thought aloud.

"Pfft! Don't make me laugh, John would be dead before the gun had a chance to dispense the bullet."

"I'm quick"

"And I'm quicker"

"You mind having your little pissing contest when there's not a chance of impending death?" John groaned, he's back was killing him, along with everything else.

"I dread to think what he's like at home, he must drive you insane Sherlock, why on earth do you put up with him"

"I am here you know!" John made his presence know, he tried to wriggle out of the chair when Moriaty looked down on him with a disgusted glance and held the chair sturdy with his unoccupied hand.

"Put the gun down Jim, last chance" Sherlock stood his ground.

"How about you put yours down?"

"Okay." Sherlock agreed, turning to nod at John who had got his hands free of the rope after years of being tied up and tortured in the army. Sherlock knew this. Of course he did. He made a move as if to place his gun to the ground nice and slowly, distracting, and when Moriarty smiled he turned, shot him in the lung. This caused Moriarty to shoot his gun which he thought was aimed at John's head. He fired but John was no longer there, whilst Sherlock was attracting attention, John had slipped out of the chair and to the window, signalling for Lestrade's team to come in.

Moriaty was on the floor, Sherlock stood on his hand and grabbed the gun. Holding both guns towards him as he backed towards John. "Are you okay?" He asked, turning to quickly look John up and down, their eyes locked. When he looked back Moriarty was gone. All that was left was a word written in blood. His blood. 'FALL'.

Sherlock couldn't care less about the message, he's think it up later. He looked around and there was no sign or the psychopath, and Lestrade's team were pounding their way up the stairs. He called them before entering the building, he knew he'd need an back-up plan. He sighed, put the guns in his coat pocket and hugged John, it was unexpected but nice, they both needed this.

"Don't ever do this to me again John." Sherlock commanded.

"Me!? How was this my fault, he was your enemy and after you!" John explained, voice going up an octave or two.

"It just is" Sherlock laughed.

"Of course it's my fault, I tied myself to a chair and strapped a bomb to myself to get your attention, I wasn't getting it any other wa-"John joked before he was interrupted by Sherlock's mouth pressing towards his. He stilled at first, but then softly kissed back and pulled away.

"Not that I'm complaining about your sudden display of affection, but we seem to be forgetting that I have a far few explosives around me"

"Lucky explosives"

"Sherlock!" John squealed in a very un-manly manner. He wasn't serious though, he still smiled. He wouldn't laugh because if he did he wouldn't be able to stop, this wasn't how Sherlock acted, it was weird.

"Yes, John" he replied, staring into his eyes, backing him into a corner. He knew about the bomb, but he had the trigger, he was in control. "I can't do anything without risking blowing you up, I'm waiting for the bomb squad to get here to relive you of this tight spot" he smirked. Sherlock was using innuendo. Jesus.

"O-okay" John stuttered, Sherlock was so close; they both were high with adrenaline. John could almost taste Sherlock, he could feel his breath on his face, his eyes. God. His eyes were somewhere he could get lost in. He leaned forward a little, looking up at Sherlock and then back down to his lips, checking. For what he didn't know. He urged closer, Sherlock was smirking now, and god if he didn't do that well. It had his stomach doing somersaults. He could feel his heart beating fiercely in his chest, he was sure Sherlock could hear it to. He swallowed.

"John, stop thinking and kiss me" Sherlock sighed

"You… stop thinking" John said in the sound of an awkward comeback, it sounded stupid, he knew it did.

"Me, stop thinking, the world would fall!" Sherlock joked.

"Here was me thinking you were modest, Mr. Ego"

"Maybe you should teach me a lesson" Sherlock's tone dripped with suggestion.

John blushed and cleared his throat. He swallowed twice before he spoke. "Oh god yes". They both laughed, then Sherlock leaned in and captured John's lips in a fierce kiss, pushing him fully up against the wall; mindful of the bomb. He really wished he could run his hands down John's chest, but he settled for his hand in his hair, claiming him for himself. "I'm glad you're okay, I'd be lost without my blogger" Sherlock muttered in between kisses, sucking on John's bottom lips when he'd got his point across. "Mmm" was all that John could say, it was hardly coherent and Sherlock smirked once again. How John loved that smirk. He kissed him back, deepening, trying to convey meaning, all the lost words he was too blissed to say, Sherlock was gasping and kissing back with twice as hard.

"Sherlock! John! You okay? Bomb squad are outside now, do you w-" Lestrade called before stopping when he saw the two men entangled and lip locked. He cleared his throat, they still didn't stop. "Oi!" He began, still nothing. "Look, the quicker we get that bomb off, the quicker you two can go home, we don't know if this bloke has another trigger somewhere, or a sniper. We've scanned the area and nothing yet. Oh, can you two stop for a second and listen!" Greg shouted, voice raising towards the end.

Both Sherlock and John parted. Panting heavily and lips swollen from kissing. They looked at one another and then back at Greg. Unconsciously standing very close together, like they were magnets being compelled.

"Thank you" Lestrade sighed.

A member of the bomb squad made his way in, establishing the type of bomb and how many packages of explosive material there were before approaching. He took John to a corner, Sherlock followed. The bomb expert told John to stay calm, he saw the heat sensors and decided he had to disarm the bomb and sensors before it could be removed. It was simple enough, this wasn't your average complex explosive jacket, they were pretty unpretentious to a someone who had seen more explosives than hot dinners. He had the wire cut in no time, both John and Sherlock holding their breaths and hands together when it was cut. John couldn't get the jacket off quick enough. Sherlock couldn't get his hands on John's newly exposed chest fast enough.

"And they're off" Greg grumbled, thanking the bomb unit as they left. He was going to shout a goodbye but knew they wouldn't hear him or even care. "I'll question 'em tomorrow, won't get much out of 'em now" he said to himself when walking out the door.

Oblivious John and Sherlock were over each other like the other was their only source of oxygen. John pulled back breathlessly. "Flat?".

"Flat" Sherlock agreed.

THE END!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! :D