Nemesis

Chapter 2

Sherlock

Sherlock didn't know what to do. Jim Moriarty had just pulled him into a kiss and Sherlock had no clue what he was supposed to be doing. He had never kissed anyone before, especially not another man. Although the feeling was pleasant Sherlock didn't want to be kissing his enemy. Hell he didn't want to kiss anyone! Human error is a defect that Sherlock Holmes never wanted to experience. But now he was, and he liked it!

"St-stop.." Sherlock pulled away after a moment. "Why did you do that?" Sherlock's voice was quiet and confused.

"Because I like you Sherlock Holmes, and all this time I thought you were a genius" Jim laughed. "Do try to keep up." His Irish voice hummed.

"But...but I'm not a girl." Sherlock was at a loss for words, and his thoughts raced faster than his elevated heart beat.

"Nooo? Really, I don't think I've ever noticed that." Jim smirked. "It's called being gay honey. I like boys not girls."

Sherlock just shook his head no. There was no way this was actually happening.

He can't like me! We're supposed to be enemies not.. Not something else. He's a killer. You can't like a killer Sherlock.

"I'm done with your games Jim." Sherlock announced and walked away from the consulting criminal. "Find someone else to play with." His voice was bitter and as he left the pool room he slammed the door, perhaps a little too loudly.

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Moriarty

Jim felt like his chest was torn open and his heart was taken out. His plan didn't work. Sherlock actually hated him. Jim didn't even realize he had sat down and was crying. He felt so empty and broken, like all the times before.

Fine, he thought, if he's done with my games I need one final show. Something he will never forget.

Jim stood up and wiped the tears from his eyes with his palms. He started walking home, thinking of this last game. Bart's rooftop would do nicely.. No one would know but Sherlock.

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Sherlock- three months later

Jim leaned in and their lips met again in a passionate kiss. Sherlock brought his hand to Jim's cheek and held him close. They pulled apart for a breath after a while and smiled up at each other. "I've missed you so-"

"Sherlock! Sherlock it's ten o' clock get up." John shook his shoulder gently. "You never sleep in this late.."

Sherlock groaned. He had another dream of Jim Moriarty kissing him. It had been three months, but he still couldn't stop thinking about the criminal. He hadn't heard anything from him since the night at the pool. Now John was interrupting his pleasant dreams of him. "Go away John im tired." He mumbled.

"Lestrade wants us at the scene. He said it was important...something about Moriarty?" John yanked the sheets off of Sherlock, causing him to shiver.

"Moriarty hasn't done anything in almost four months." Sherlock complained.

"I know, that's why we need to go. Now." John pressured and Sherlock reluctantly dragged himself out of bed and got dressed. Just as he and John were ready to leave Sherlock got a text.

Ignore my message at the scene. Tonight meet me on Bart's rooftop alone. We need to talk. -JM

Strange...he usually acts playful in his texts. Sherlock glanced at John then replied:

What time? -SH

Seven. -JM

"Let's go," John said as he climbed in the cab. "Lestrade is waiting."

Sherlock nodded and climbed into the cab with John.

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Moriarty

The strong wind in top of Bart's roof made Jim shiver. It was now seven fifteen and he just wanted to get things done. Jim paced along the edge of the roof until he heard Sherlock's footsteps approaching him.

"What are you-"

"No. No talking. I'm talking, so shut up and listen." Moriarty snapped. "I don't have time for your games. You don't want to play games right?"

"Well i just-"

"Yes or no Sherlock!"

"Yes..." He muttered quietly.

"Good. Now I'm going to say what I have to say so just...just don't talk please." Moriarty paused briefly and continued upon receiving a curt nod from the consulting detective. "That day I kissed you, I meant it. I liked you Sherlock. A lot, but i was clearly mistaken by us. That's why I asked you to come here. I have one last thing I need you to do."

"What's that?" Sherlock asked with a confused look in his eyes.

"Forgive me.." Jim whispered and pulled a gun from his coat pocket, pointing it at his heart and pulling the trigger. Sherlock's eyes widened and he caught Jim's limp body before it hit the ground. Sherlock immediately pulled out his phone and called for an ambulance.

Moriarty could hear the panicked mumbling coming from Sherlock, but his vision was so blurry he couldn't see anything. He couldn't move his arms or legs and he wanted to speak to tell Sherlock he was sorry but his lips wouldn't form the words. The last thing he heard was the sound of sirens in the distance.