John stared down at the tracking device that encircled around his ankle in distaste. "Well, at least it was better than the handcuffs," John thought as he paced around the apartment. Moriarty had gone out to examine the document that he had drug them both to Jerusalem for, leaving John alone in the residence. John knew that with the tracking device there was no way he was going to escape; however there was nothing to prevent him from snooping around for information. John walked quietly over to where Moriarty's laptop sat on his desk. He knew it would be password protected, but it was worth a try to guess. After a few tries, John leaned back and sighed. As for what happened next, John wasn't sure if it was because he was in Jerusalem or what, but he said a quick prayer and entered IOUSHERLOCK, damn it didn't work, then John entered ANN4/11/76, nothing, then John thought back to the entries in young Moriarty's journal and one date stood out, the entry about Christmas was a particularly poignant, so on a whim John entered 861225Angels, as the computer miraculously came to life. John thanked whatever deities existed and began to look through Moriarty's files. He opened the folder entitled SH, one file in particular caught John's attention, the file was labeled Extermination Holmes Permanent Solution. John double clicked on the file and as he began to read John felt the blood drain from his face. Sherlock would never survive this, no human could.
John jumped when he felt Moriarty's grip on his shoulder," John, what are you doing?" Moriarty whispered in a low menacing voice.
John whipped around to face Moriarty. "You are planning to release chemical warfare on Sherlock to destroy him."
Moriarty clapped his hands together and leaned back. "Yes, isn't it glorious? Sherlock will die slowly, thinking he has cancer or some other disease, and when he lies in a hospital bed writhing in pain I will breeze in and laugh as he draws his last breath." Moriarty sighed in pleasure and then turned to John. "So, John are you hungry?" Moriarty asked casually, ignoring their previous conversation.
John continued to stare at Moriarty in horror and then an idea came to mind, it was repulsive and yet John had to try it. John got up and faced Moriarty and then with lightning fast reflexes John grabbed Moriarty by the throat. As he slammed Moriarty against the wall, Moriarty shivered with delight at John's rough treatment of his body. Then Moriarty reached out like a snake capturing its prey and grasped John's wounded wrist. Moriarty dug his fingers into John's wound until John finally collapsed in a heap on the floor. "It's time for plan B," John thought as he struggled to catch his breath. Moriarty had John pinned down and after a few seconds he let John break free. As John crawled over to where Moriarty lay he spoke softly, "Moriarty…Jim, I have a proposition for you," John said as he inched closer to Moriarty. "If you promise to let Sherlock live in peace, I will be yours, I will stay with you, no need for this, "John said as he pointed to the tracking device on his ankle. Slowly John put his hand on Moriarty's abdomen, "So, what do you say?" John asked huskily.
Moriarty moved John's hand downwards, "How do you know you can trust me?" Moriarty gasped as John moved his fingers lower.
John unbuttoned the top button of Moriarty's pants and moved his other hand to the same warm downward target. "How do you know you can trust me?" John asked as he flipped Moriarty over on his stomach. "Stand up and bend over the couch," John commanded.
Moriarty did as he was told and let his pants drop down around his ankles. As John struggled to get his own pants down, Moriarty turned around to assist. Wasting no time Moriarty grabbed at the front of John's pants like a greedy child ripping open at package at Christmas time. Moriarty then assumed his position over the couch. "I'm not going to waste any time with foreplay," John thought as he adjusted Moriarty's position. "You want me, then fine off to the races," John thought as he angrily plunged into Moriarty. Things didn't last long and John prepared himself for the same type of treatment, so that when Moriarty gently picked him up and carried him to the bed, John felt confused. Moriarty not only took his time with John, he left no base uncovered, so that in spite of himself John cried out twice for Sherlock. "Sherlock," John cried out again as Moriarty lifted his head up from where he had orally fixated on John.
"Oh, John, you are so fucking sweet, "Moriarty said as he carefully pushed John's legs open further. Unlike John, Moriarty's thrusts were slow methodical and meant to please.
"Irene Adler, eat your heart out," John thought as he cried out for a fourth time. Afterwards, Moriarty lay next to John, sucking on his neck. "If you're trying for another round, I'm spent," John said as he leaned back.
Moriarty laughed. "John, my sweet John, you never know what you can do unless you try," Moriarty whispered as he stuck his tongue in John's ear and slowly moved it around.
John's mind had shut down, but his body once more betrayed him as he lustily bit down on Moriarty's ear lobe until he drew blood. Moriarty rolled over on his stomach.
John straddled him and in spite of himself laughed. "Moriarty, is this you want?" John teased as he pushed his hard groin into Moriarty's thigh.
"Yes, please John," Moriarty whimpered.
John had to admit that he got off when Moriarty begged. He felt the pressure build up in his groin as he let Moriarty plead a few more times, and then he acquiesced to Moriarty's request and to his dismay, John enjoyed the climax that he and Moriarty shared later. When John cried out this time, it was for Jim.
A few slap and tickles and a shower later, John walked up behind Moriarty as he pointed to the image on his laptop of a document that he had scanned for further inspection. "Look at this, John" Moriarty said as he excitedly pointed to a pattern on the image of the ancient document before them.
John sighed. "Jesus, it was just like being with Sherlock. He had no idea what pattern Moriarty was referring to," John thought in annoyance.
Moriarty reached out and grabbed John's hand, carefully avoiding his wounded wrist. This extra step of kindness disturbed John. After all, Moriarty was evil, wasn't he?
"John, are you paying attention?" Moriarty scolded.
John nodded and then he saw the pattern that Moriarty traced on the screen for him. "My God, that's a human DNA helix," John gasped.
Moriarty smiled in approval. "Very good, John," he praised.
The words reminded John of something that Sherlock would say and he felt a pain in the pit of his stomach as he thought of his beloved Sherlock. "Sherlock, my love you are safe," John thought contentedly.
Moriarty scowled. "John, I can tell you're thinking about him-Sherlock. Don't worry I won't touch him, after all I have you so I have his heart, right?" Moriarty chuckled as he moved his fingers lightly over John's arm.
John jerked his arm away from Moriarty and went in the bathroom and threw up, over and over, until he thought that the next thing to come up would be his insides-his heart. Moriarty stood in the bathroom doorway watching John vomit. After a few dry heaves, John curled up on the floor, and put his warm face against the cool tiles. Moriarty gently stepped over him and laid a cold washcloth on John's forehead. "John, we will talk about the document later. Go rest now, you can have the guest room. Come on John, it's okay," Moriarty said as he held out his hand to John. John wanted to slap it away, but instead he took Moriarty's hand and let himself be led to the guest room. Moriarty tucked John in and then lay down beside him. Moriarty then rubbed his hand against the stubble on John's face. John's eyes fluttered as sleep overtook him. Moriarty continued to rub John's face until John's breathing became deeper and relaxed. Then he reached over and kissed John on the lips, "God, help us all, I love you John Watson," Moriarty whispered sadly as he got up to leave.
As Mycroft, Mary and Sherlock sat on a private jet heading for Israel, Sherlock felt cold and uneasy. He pulled his scarf tighter around his neck and flipped up the collar of his coat, but his actions did nothing to assuage his fears. As the jet roared closer to John, Sherlock grew colder, for instead of feeling closer to John; Sherlock felt John's presence retreating to a place Sherlock would not be able to reach-Moriarty's heart-his soul.