"I hear you're the best. That you can do anything, fix anything, for the right price."
Moriarty smiled, wide and crookedly mad. "Just make a wish, and all your dreams will come true."
"I need chaos. I need blood and desperation, greater than anything the country's ever seen, and I need it to last until I tell you to stop."
"How very interesting. And what's in it for me?"
He waved a hand. "Anything you like. You'll get it, so long as it . . . shall we say, lures a certain someone out into the open."
"And who might that be?" He drew the word "who" out, letting linger on the air.
"A prat," Merlin said and turned and walked away.
A/N: Moriarty belongs to . . . Well, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, technically, but this version belongs to BBC's Sherlock. Next up, an Avengers crossover!
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Merlin Headcanons
Fanfiction. . . As well as theories, drabbles, and rants on ships.
