Title coming soon...

An Ornately Woven Persian Rug

A/N: Okay, what we're going to be doing is each of us writing a chapter each, so get ready for a disjointed narrative with no planning.

THIS IS CRACK---YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Sherlock blinked slowly and sighed. He looked around the bare concrete room in which he was incarcerated. It contained nothing but the chair he was sitting on, an ominous piece of rope danging over an ominous, shadowy figure in the corner and an ornately woven Persian rug.

Sherlock could not deduce anything from this current situation.

Sherlock shook his head, trying to make some sense out of his surroundings. As he did his pale eyes focused on a figure coming towards him. As the shape hit the light, Sherlock could see it was none other than his arch enemy, Jim Moriarty, dressed in a grey suit, with a red tie like a spill of blood against his throat. Moriarty smiled languidly.

"Why am I here and where am I?" asked Sherlock.

"The where is unimportant: we are in a room in which many great things happen and a certain animated cartoon makes a cameo appearance. And the why, I need to tell you this my self."

Unfortunately, Sherlock was no wiser as to what the hell Moriarty was going on about.

"What was the first thing you assumed about me the first time that you saw me?" asked Moriarty.

"That you were about to shoot my best friend and possible love interest," Sherlock retorted, his mind flickering back to the events of the Great Game. Shit. He was starting to call his cases by John's blog names. 

"No, no, no," said Moriarty. "The first time. Remember that?"

"You don't, mean-" began Sherlock, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, "but, that was just a ruse, to fool me."

"No, it appears once again your deduction was incorrect. You have a tendency to do that. Rather unattractive you do know."

"Alright," replied Sherlock. "But why would you go to the effort of somehow getting me here just to tell me you're coming out?"

Sherlock watched in amazement as Jim suddenly evaporated into thin air. In his place a large mahogany closet sat, looming. Sherlock noticed the ominous figure with the rope was still present. Suddenly, the closet's door opened, and Moriarty walked out.

"Surprise. See what I did there?" Moriarty's celebratory face grew serious. "Do you still not get it?"

"No, I have absolutely, no clu- oh. Oh. OH. Moriarty, oh."

"There we go. Honestly, you're so much thicker than your brother."

"Brother, what did you do with Mycroft?" asked Sherlock.

"Oh, do you really want to know?" replied Jim, waggling his eyebrows.

Suudenly, for reasons still unknown, another man appeared in the room. He raised his head and fixed his gaze on Sherlock.

"Well, what do we have here?" he said, grinning.

A/N: Yay, 1st part. M will write the next chapter soonish idk. Please vote if you liked this, or even if it horrified you. ~T