All Fun and Games

Confused Reunion

"What the hell are you doing back?" John questioned as the man he had only just said goodbye to touched his foot to the ground again.

"London needs me and Mycroft is too lazy to do the 'foot work', that answer your question?" Sherlock murmured, already deep in thought about why he was drawn back so quickly.

"You really do have to stop this. All leaving, but not really, then coming back. You're always heading to your death aren't you Sherlock?" Mary sighed, trying to hide burning curiosity behind annoyance.

"Sorry, hopefully won't happen again." Sherlock said, extracting himself from his deep thoughts for long enough to do his quirky little smile and wink. Mary guffawed at this and a small smile lit John's face, relief at not having to have his best friend exiled and not to return. A squat man climbed out of a sleek black car that had quietly pulled up and handed a camera phone to the distracted trio.

"'Take a look and you'll get it brother dear.' Mycroft sends his regards." The man said and slid back into the car, silently turning around and disappeared as quickly as he had come.

Sherlock, still lost in thought, ignored the man and seemed not to notice the entire exchange. Tapping him lightly on the shoulder John shook him out of his reprise and handed him the phone.

"Okay Mr. I'm Such A Great Mind, turn the phone on and start this case. Go on, we're curious." John and Mary urged Sherlock on. Clicking the phone on, the display lit up their stunned faces as impossible words reached their ears.

"Did you miss me? Did you miss me?" Echoed across the empty runway as the phone fell towards the ground. Shock echoed off every face, but there was also a small light of fear hiding in the genius' eyes. Memories of dark rooms and pools and twisted words silently danced across the two men's minds as Sherlock picked the mobile back up, clicked the mobile shut, and dropped it into one of his vast pockets.

Silence enveloped the trio as realization set in. He was back and ready to play, but something was different. That something was advertisement. London remembered the man that had them at their knees with a push of a button, and he had just waltzed back into their lives, trumpets blaring. Moriarty wasn't one who exactly would do that. Announce his arrival so soon. Something had changed in his whole demeanour, and it was huge.

Sensing the silence had gotten awkward, John broke the ice with a steely truthful dagger,"Well, sod this. You are going to figure this out again, BUT there will be no roofs, deaths, or leaving in any way shape or form." John stabbed his finger to Sherlock's chest, shaking him out of a daze of whirling thoughts.

"Of course not, that was merely a trick and I couldn't possibly pull the same situation off again. He simply wouldn't fall for it. . ." Sherlock trailed off, clearly still half-immersed inside his mind. Mumbling quietly to himself, Sherlock strode over to the sleek, black car that had just pulled up and got in. Rolling down the window, Mycroft appeared on the other side and reassured the remaining couple.

"I will bring him back to Baker Street, get in the car you arrived in. We WILL discuss this upon return. My brother and I have some, let's just say, issues to process. Good day John, Mary." Inclining his head slightly and rolling the tinted window back up, the car rolled away, revealing the car they were to take home.

Standing still for a moment, shocked and confused, the Watsons looked at each other and a giggle started to bubble in the awkward silence surrounding them.

"I guess the game is back on," Mary sighed," You boys better get this wrapped up quickly, too. In the meantime though, you're going back to Baker Street. Sherlock will need all the help you can get and I'm not getting in the way. Now don't you disagree with me mister, unless we move into the flat below, you're going to be there for Sherlock." John, gaping at his wife, slowly shook his head in amazement.

"You do know Mycroft probably heard that and is already arranging for me to move back in?" John sighed, even though deep down he was pleased at being back in 'the game' with his friend, especially with his wife's urging.

"Exactly. Oh! and there he is now, probably." Mary returned, smugly exclaiming as John's phone buzzed in his pocket. Rolling his eyes, John pulled it out and checked the messages.

Tell Mary her wishes are met.

-Mycroft

John sighed again, rolled his eyes at Mary and started walking towards the awaiting car and into yet another, most-likely, deadly plot between the masterminds of London.

Folding her hands over her chest while staring at the screen, a small smile crept up her face. As John and Mary climbed into the waiting car she chuckled in delight.

When would the great Sherlock Holmes realize that he wasn't only playing his little Moriarty again. For such a brilliant detective, he sure was an idiot. But, she had already set the ball rolling and there was nothing to do now but wait for her cue to stage.

"Dear me Mr. Holmes, dear, dear me. You've let the game get into your heart and head, and this will be of the most fun of occasions. Play well or the game will end a little to quickly. . ."