Sherlock Imagines

A study in Scarlet PART 2 (MoriartyxReader)

"Y/N! WAKE UP!" Shouting? At this time? God, what was wrong with these people? You wrench your eyes open, immediately feeling the sensation of a chilly draft wash over you. Definitely Sherlock's flat, why the rush to bloody wake you up, then? Your eyes snapped hopen, immediately glaring towards the face you'd seen everyday for nearly eighteen years, the face that always woke you much to early, not to mention the one you both hated, and appreciated.
"What?" You snapped. He knew better than to wake you up early, but as the fog of sleep cleared, you saw the clearuôuue signs of panic from him. His fear started seeping into, causing you to begin to sit up a bit.
"The case-Moriarty- he left a note." Sherlock's long, spindly fingers fidgeted with a piece of neat, folded paper. The paper seemed old, and held an almost elegant look to it. This made you sit straight up, a smile threatening to break across your features. Let's face it, you hadn't stopped thinking about the genius who orchestrated all of this. Hell, you'd go as far as to say you were beginning to fancy him. You snatched the paper from him, and began to examine it, adrenaline already sending you flying.

Your choice Sherlock,
Save Johnny-boy and play the game,
Or...
BOOM!
Here's the rules;
1-You and Sherlock are to be separated at all times.
2-No breaking any rules, or Little-Boy-John goes buh-bye before your eyes!
~JM

Oh yes, this would be exciting. But why John? He is rather close to Sherlock. Still, you were much closer to Sherls, yet he chose to take John. Maybe he wanted you in play. It made little sense, but you shrugged it off as both you and Sherlock's phones vibrated. You both pulled them out, him looking excited in a panicked sense, you in anticipation. You looked closely at the screen. It was a rooftop restaurant. You'd been to it once on a REALLY terrible date. Meeting a criminal, especially one as extraordinary and fascinating as Moriarty, promised to be MUCH better. You looked over to Sherlock's and noticed there were time stamps on when you were to be there. His was in about twenty minutes, while yours wasn't until eight. Weird. A second message came in on your phone, drawing your curiosity back to it.

From Blocked;
Need a remind you the status-quo it pushes it's guests to?
             ~JM

No. No he didn't. It was ludicrous for anyone to even try and fool themselves that you could wear anything under name brand to this place. That's what was interesting about this. Security was top-notch, and Sherlock had made it very clear that EVERYONE in London knew of Jim Moriarty. How could he guarantee his own safety, when he was walking into a camera-filled, nearly-every-five-feet-there-is-a-security-call-button place like this? Then it hit you; Why would a place open nearly 24 hours need that much security? Unless the owner was paranoid. Which typically means he knows what's out there, people like him. Oh, this was rich. Sherlock stared quizzically at his photo for another second, before turning it to you.
"Where the hell is this?!" Now he was down right upset. It's like Moriarty was trying to make it impossible to win! Well, in Sherlock's mind at least.
"That's down by Notes, it's an old styling company. Went out of business years ago." You explained, already trying to piece together why he'd meet Sherlock in an abandoned, horrid excuse for a building, yet insist you meet him at his restaurant. Seems a little besides the point if he's revealing soft spots to you, yet not to Sherlock. Sherlock let out a heavy sigh of relief, quickly hugging you, then kissing your cheek in thanks (old habit your mum had taught you when showing appreciation, it's a long story). Soon after he was swiveling his coat around himself, and flying out the door. What time even was it? Clicking your phone back on, you saw it was about noon. Geez, maybe Sherlock did have the right to get you up...

He patiently watched as Sherlock went to wake her. Moriarty couldn't help but be angry at how he woke her. The close proximity, his hands wrapped firmly around her arms as he shook her from her slumber. Yes, he wanted her to see the note immediately, but Sherlock could've found about a million different ways to do that. He drummed his fingers as she snapped at him, smirking. Oh, yes, he definitely liked this one. So much fire in her, yet polite and courteous. It's a delicate balance that she had perfected. He pulled his phone out as she began reading, enjoying the flicker of excitement crossing over her, the brilliant glint in her already dazzling e/c eyes. He sent the locations, making sure he put a meeting time, and continued watching. A mark of confusion, in the form of her eyebrows creasing ever so slightly, played over her. Now, she looked breathtaking with her h/c hair thrown up into a sloppy bun, and wearing her slept-in clothes from yesterday, but his restaurant, well, it was a little, how do you say, high-maintenance. Of course this meant he had to remind her (no ulterior motives, as in, no he was not trying to implicate that he was taking her on a date. Not at all). His eyes narrowed as Sherlock turned the phone to her, and she spoke. Probably telling him where it was. That was fine, what made him burn, though, was Sherlock physically kissed her. He pressed his lips to those (remarkably soft-looking) cheeks, and then just left as if it was some normal occurrence! Was she Sherlock's girlfriend, after all? He had ruled it out before, but now it would seem he got his facts wrong... No matter, the plan would remain the same. No matter what, he knew she had to be his.