Chapter 3

"John, you'll want to sit before I tell you the news," said Sherlock, his cool blue eyes staring into the clearly confused eyes of his friend.

"Why?" He leaned in the doorway of Mycroft's office, his chest heaving up and down, his sentence enunciated by pants. He had parked his car, and run inside. You could tell.

"Just trust me."

"Sherlock..."

Mycroft smirked. They were already at it. He leaned against his desk as he watched Sherlock take a seat, crossing his legs and leaning back. This is exactly what he wanted. He wanted to preserve this, and he had. He was just still preoccupied by thoughts of what was next.

"John, you'll faint on the floor." He said, looking straight at John, being able to predict what his reaction would be.

"Sherlock, go easy on John," said Mycroft, realizing that Sherlock was just teasing.

"I won't faint, Sherlock."

"You'll go weak in the knees then. It's all really the same..."

"Sherlock, please just tell me what's going on already? Why were you called back?"

John crossed his arms, shifting his position slightly, but still remaining in the doorway.

"A problem has presented itself that needs our immediate attention," started Sherlock, trying to approach the subject gently.

"Out with it already, Sherlock. What is going on? I was a soldier. I can handle it."

"You won't be able to handle this," said Sherlock, training his eyes on John. "Moriarty's back."

"Wh-what?"

John started to stagger, going a bit weak in the knees like Sherlock had predicted. Mycroft went over and gingerly led him toward a chair, which he sank into.

"But how?"

Sherlock shrugged.

"I'm still trying to work out that detail myself."

John shook his head, leaning back in the chair.

"What kind of life insurance do you two have?" John chuckled slightly. "This is unbelievable..."

Mycroft smirked at John's joke, going back to leaning against the desk, crossing his arms.

Suddenly, his mobile started to vibrate. He reached into his pocket, and dug it out to see who was calling. When he saw that the identity of the caller was unavailable, he gulped. He knew exactly who it was.

"Excuse me. I have to take this," said Mycroft, standing back up straight.

Sherlock turned to look at him, but didn't say anything. He nodded, understanding. Mycroft went out into the hallway, walking around the corner before he dared to answer it.

"Mycroft Holmes speaking."

"We had an agreement," said the garbled voice. "Now it's time for you to hold up to your end of the bargain."

Mycroft gulped, turning slightly to look over his shoulder, making sure no one had followed him.

"I can't. Not now. It's too soon."

"No, you will, and you'll do it now."

Even though the voice was disguised, he could still tell that the person on the other end of the line was James.

"Give me some time..."

"If I give you time, you'll just keep asking for more. It'll just become a viscous cycle. I want you to hold up your end of the deal."

"It's not that easy to hold up my end of the deal."

"'Not that easy'...Listen to you whine. You're just stalling."

"What you're asking from me is something that takes time."

"Resigning can't be that time consuming..."

He gulped again, looking once more down the hall.

"It can be, when I realize that you'll take my place, though I still don't know how that'll work..."

"Leave the details to me."

"Sherlock will be suspicious..."

"You should have thought about that before you made the deal."

"I wanted Sherlock to be happy," hissed Mycroft. "And he is."

"Well good, then it's time you made me happy. You can either resign from the picture, and give me what I want, or you can keep your position, and I'll just leak to the press the deal we made."

"You wouldn't."

"Oh, I would. See, I have leverage now. Now you have to do what I want."

Mycroft took a deep breath, trying to figure out what to do next.

"Fine. I'll meet you in an hour, with the resignation papers."

"Where are we meeting?"

"The same place we met before."

"Fine. You know it's only fair. It's just politics, Mycroft."

The line suddenly went dead as James Moriarty hung up. He shook his head, quickly re-pocketing his mobile. He couldn't resign. If he resigned, all of Britain would be in trouble. He knew that James had tricks up his sleeve to take his position, and he couldn't let that happen. It was time he put a stop to James's plan before it was put fully into motion. It wasn't fair what he was about to do, but it was the only option he had left. He dug out his mobile again, calling a few people on his security staff. He had to do this to stop James before it was too late.

It wasn't going to be fair to him, but after all, it was just politics.

AN: Thank you for all the continued reviews and support! I will make sure to keep updating. :) Please let me know what you thought of this chapter. :)