BBC Sherlock imagines

The consulting criminal

Meanwhile;
Mycroft's POV:
I couldn't sleep. I was sat in a large armchair, lost in thought. I checked my watch to see it read 1:54am. I sighed heavily; I desperately needed sleep, it was a big day tomorrow but I just couldn't. My thoughts ran away with me every time I closed my eyes and it resulted in me opening them again. I couldn't face up to what I was thinking about though. It was not only a chemical defect but it was wrong, he was wrong. And yet I still could not keep him out of my brain. I tried to tell myself he was evil, that I would be letting Sherlock and everyone else down but still he remained in the centre of my head. It was almost as if I missed him. For weeks on end he was there, in front of me and I could talk to him whenever I wanted. But now he could be anywhere, probably planning on blowing up my brother, and I couldn't be near him. I deduced, however, that after the weeks he'd had he most likely would be at his house, resting. It was horrible to watch him be beaten like that but it was necessary. He is evil and I couldn't exactly stand up to the criminal mastermind without causing unneeded suspicion. I stood up suddenly and grabbed my coat. I wasn't exactly sure where I was going but I was clearly going there quickly. I rushed out the door and soon enough found myself on the usually busy streets of London, but this time of night it was only filled with the drunks, homeless and women of the night.

Third person:

Mycroft kept his head down and continued to walk quickly. He now knew where he was headed but he didn't like it. Holding a role in the British government meant that he knew the popular hangouts of all the suspicious people. Soon enough he found himself on the driveway of the one and only Jim Moriarty.
Mycroft's usual confidence was nowhere to be seen and he lingered in the same spot of darkness for what felt like half an hour. There was a light on at the front of the house which indicated that he was most likely awake which Mycroft wasn't sure was a good or bad thing. He took a deep breath and began walking towards the door. After a few moments which felt like eternity, the man himself appeared at the door, gun in hand, eyes drooping and hair messy- he'd clearly just woken up. Mycroft found this adorable and tried to memorise the image until he realised he was staring at a consulting criminal having just turned up at his house at almost 3 in the morning. "Um.." Mycroft stuttered but his awkwardness was saved by Moriarty putting the gun down and stepping aside as if to allow Mycroft to enter. Mycroft looked at him to check it was an invitation and he waved his hand to reassure him. So Mycroft entered, still having not said a word and lingered in the hall waiting for directions as to where to go. "Through there"Moriarty said in his deep, Irish accent, pointing to the room where he had previously been sleeping "you can switch off the tv"he added "tea?" Mycroft smiled as he realised that the tv was displaying a documentary about native bees, "yes please" he replied quietly still quite shy. He had been responsible for this man's torture for weeks and now he had just calmly invited him into his has at a ridiculous time of night. Moriarty went into the kitchen to make the tea. He paused to compose himself- the man he couldn't stop thinking about was now in his house, after hours. It couldn't be work related else he'd have a henchman or something with him. He finished making the tea and handed Mycroft his mug before sitting down on the opposite sofa to him, not wanting to get too close, just in case. He'd never felt like this before and didn't know how he'd react to being that close.
"So, what's the big G doing at my house at 3 in the morning?" He asked, not enjoying the silence. "Well-um- I thought that I'd see if you were going to talk now? I needed a bit of legwork" Mycroft stuttered quietly. "Nope" Moriarty said simply. "Didn't think so" Mycroft admitted. "So you came here to talk? Yet you didn't think I would. Seems like a waste of time to me" Moriarty said playfully. "Well-I..." he stuttered in response. Moriarty smiled at his awkwardness but hid it by taking a sip of his tea. "I'd better be going then, I have a feeling I'll see you soon, Mr Moriarty."Mycroft said as he got up to leave. "Jim, please, and stay- I could do with some company" he blurted out before he could stop himself. Mycroft sat back down with a cute, confused look on his face. "Why?" He asked. "Because a friend is rare for me so I'm trying to make some?" Jim replied, not very convincingly, but Mycroft accepted it, secretly very pleased. They sat in silence for about 10 mins Jim stood up. He'd had a sudden wave of confidence and all of a sudden sat down on Mycroft's lap. Mycroft wasn't quite sure what was happening but he seemed to like it and made no objection. Jim turned to face him, his cheeks slightly pink and they just stared into each other's eyes. They stayed like that for a long moment until Jim's eyes flicked down to Mycroft's lips and he did the same, as if asking for permission- and then they began to lean in until there faces were a couple of centimetres apart and then it happened. Both of their first kisses and it was amazing. Before this moment they didn't even know they were gay, let alone felt love. And it was amazing. The kiss lasted for what felt like forever and they only broke apart for air. Panting, they both grinned uncontrollably at each other before Mycroft reached up and ran his hand through Jim's hair before they began passionately kissing again. The rest of their night was spent close together, talking and finding out about the other. Not a single worry crossed their mind; they simply enjoyed the presence of the other man.