Nicotine (Sheriarty)

33

Moriarty

Jim frantically ran through the streets of London, desperately searching for Sherlock. He reached into his coat pocket hoping for some sort of clue to finding him. He felt a cold, metal key and pulled it out to examine it further.

221b Baker Street.

~

Sherlock

Sherlock sat in his flat feeling completely and utterly defeated. He had lost. Sebastian had won. There was nothing more he could do.

The detective heard the doorbell ring downstairs but chose to ignore it. If it was that important Mrs Hudson would get it.

Sherlock could hear footsteps and tried to block them out.

He's gone.

He's not coming back.

He tried to get comfortable in his seat but he couldn't stop moving. Who was outside his door?

The heavy footsteps indicated it was a man. Posh shoes, probably Gucci. The person is nervous - obvious due to the tapping of the shoes. Unlikely that it's a client - Mrs Hudson wouldn't let clients in this late. So who? Not Mycroft - he would make an arrangement. John and Lestrade would just walk in. Anderson wouldn't come alone. That only left one person. But it couldn't be, could it?

Sherlock's train of thought was cut off by the knocking. Warily, Holmes made his way towards the door.

"Sherlock." Moriarty panted.

"Sir..?" Sherlock asked.

Suddenly, Sherlock felt a pair of cold hands cup his face. The hands were soon accompanied by Jim's lips. Sherlock was slightly taken aback by the abruptness of this but decided not to argue. He grabbed Jim's waist and pulled him closer to him.

The kiss continued for longer than it ever had before. There was a slight sense of urgency involved but it was mostly desire. Sherlock knew it wouldn't last for ever so he tried to saver the taste of Moriarty's lips on his. To saver Jim's touch. To saver the moment.

Out of breath, they finally pulled away. Jim let his hands fall down by his side. His cheeks were slightly red and he looked embarrassed.

Sherlock inhaled deeply. "Jim?" He asked hopefully. Did he remember him?

"Sherlock." He replied simply.

That answered nothing.

"Do you..." Sherlock began expecting Jim to continue. He didn't.

"Do I, what?"

"Remember?"

Jim opened his mouth to reply but then chose not to. He reached down and held Sherlock's hand. The detective took this as a sign and led Jim into the flat.

The men stood in the centre of the room staring lovingly at each other. It was as if by looking into each others eyes they could read their thoughts. They could feel safe in each other's company. Their eyes could say words their mouths couldn't.

Sherlock knew it was too good to last.

He saw the man running up the stairs angrily. Moran pushed open the door further as he walked through to make a loud bang. The noise got him noticed. The noise made him intimidating. The noise gave him power.

Jim turned to look at Seb.

"Why can't you just leave us alone for once?" Jim asked aggressively, his accent becoming stronger with each word.

"Because you can't love him! You can't love that... that freak! You're supposed to love me." Sebastian argued.

"Hey, let's just talk about this-" Sherlock was cut off by Jim's sudden movement. He grabbed the knife that had previously been stabbed into the fire plan and pinned Moran against the wall. He raised the knife to his neck.

"What did you call my husband?" Jim whispered.

Sherlock took a moment to understand what was going on. Jim had turned back into that psychopath. The consulting criminal he supposedly left behind on Bart's rooftop. Jim Moriarty had finally snapped.

Sherlock's throat was dry. He still somehow managed to croak out, "Jim, let him go."

"No, no, no." Sebastian muttered, "it's okay. Would you like me to repeat myself?"

Jim clenched his teeth and nodded.

"I said that your husband is a freak. Hang on, let me expand on that. Sherlock Holmes is a pathetic, man-stealing freak of nature who would probably benefit from a dose of poison. That wouldn't be too bad for him though, would it? I heard your lover boy over there has a history with drugs."

Sherlock could see Jim pushing the knife further into Sebastian's neck.

"No one tells me who I'm allowed to love, no one tells me what to do and no one insults my husband and gets away with it."

Sherlock could see the fear in Sebastian's eyes.

"Jim, stop!" He begged, "Let him go!"

A/N

Ohhhhhh drama.

Okay guys. I'm not going to tell you whether or not Jim kills Moran. It's up to you guys. Use your iMaGiNaTiOnS.

Thank you for over 6K reads!

See you in the next chapter.

- A