The Gay Case

Chapter 8

It wasn't Sherlock's voice.

"Yes, John. It's me." John could hear the Irish in his voice and knew instantly who was in their flat.

Moriarty.

"Oh, the pleasure's all mine, I'm sure." Moriarty stepped forwards into the light and sat in Sherlock's chair - which definitely recieved a glare from Sherlock.

"Moriarty. How nice of you to visit." Sherlock said, obviously being sarcastic.

"Of course it is." Moriarty smiled, looking at Sherlock. "Aww, you don't have a seat. How sad. Why don't you sit on your boyfriend's knees?"

Oh God, he knows.

"He's not my-"

"There's no point in lying. I've seen you two holding hands and admitting to - it's mrs Hudson isnt it? Yes, well - her. I have eyes and ears everywhere."

"Congratulations by the way." Sherlock looked Moriarty straight in his eyes. "On being alive."

"I learnt from the best, Sherlock." Did he just wink? He did, didnt he? At my boyfriend. How dare he! All these thoughts went through John's head.

"I hear you have a daughter. Named Isobelle. Right?" He exclaimed, looking directly at John.

"Yes, why?" John furrowed his brows. Sherlock went to John's chair and sat carefully on the arm of it.

"She's beautiful, isn't she, Sherlock? Just like John..." Moriarty's gaze stayed on John while he asked Sherlock this. When he didnt answer, Jim got angry.

"ISN'T SHE, SHERLOCK!?!?" He screamed, not giving a second chance.

"Yes, she is. Okay? What do you want?" Sherlock fought the urge to slap him. No matter how much he wantdd to, he knew he couldn't, for more than one reason.

Moriarty thought for a moment. Then a thought popped into his head, and Sherlock's answer came.

"I want you, Sherlock."