The Second Life (Sherlock Holmes/John Watson MD/Jim Moriarty)

"No, honey, I don't smoke," he said, shaking his head, his hands buried in his pockets as he looked at the alley, his eyes moving on all the details, and then travelling back to Sherlock. "Seeing you right now, one would think the only thing you take pleasure from is sucking on that stick," he commented, and smirked, he had a few ideas of what else Sherlock could suck tonight.

"My place then, it's always ready, I am a bit of a freak when it comes to cleaning. It is my only fault though, to be honest," he commented, motioning towards the main road.

"Let's take a taxi?"

Sherlock withdrew the packet of cigarettes from offer and popped them back into his pocket, taking another drag as Jim made some strange remark about sucking on sticks. He was sure it was some kind of innuendo, but couldn't be certain.

"Your place sounds...fine..." Sherlock answered, ignoring the man's previous comments, and suddenly he found himself a little nervous at what they were about to do. Sex. Sherlock was inexperienced, new. Of course he had some idea, but it was still quite a mystery. It was just this once, then it would all be over. Maybe then he'd finally be able to understand suspect's motivations better. All those murders, thefts, blackmails, in the name of sex, passion and love. Sherlock could recognise them, spot the signs and catch the perpetrator, but understanding was another step.

He waved his arm in the air confidently and a taxi screeched to a halt in front of them. Taking one last drag on his cigarette before flicking it away, he opened the door and motioned with his head inside. "After you," he smiled at Jim.

Jim smirked as Sherlock motioned for him to step inside the taxi. "Mm, you're not just hot, you are also a gentleman," he teased him as he slid into the back seat of the cab, his eyes darting to the front for a second, checking it wasn't one of his, that would have been quite a distraction at the moment.

He had to admit he felt a bit nervous, this plan had the potentiality to backfire any moment, but he loved the risk, it was sweet torture to him.

His hand patted the other's knee as he sat beside him. "Don't be nervous, honey, I'll take good care of you," he whispered with a wink.

Sherlock's brow furrowed slightly, vaguely aware that Jim was flirting with him as he climbed into the back of the taxi after the strange and, in the detective's opinion, untrustworthy lawyer, or fake lawyer or whoever the hell he was.

He noticed Jim's quick glance to the front of the cab, and wondered whether he was a nervous passenger, then as the journey commenced, he allowed his eyes to wander over in Jim's direction and take in his appearance more. He never normally noticed things like good looks, but he could certainly tell that Jim was handsome. He imagined the man would have no problem getting any girl, or boy, he wanted. He smelt good too. Or at least, his aftershave did.

"I'm not nervous," Sherlock replied quickly, even though it wasn't quite true. "I don't get nervous about anything.

Jim turned to Sherlock when the detective talked, and he looked at him for a moment before smiling amused. "For your peace of mind I will agree with you there," he commented with a soft laugh, it would have sounded evil to anyone who knew him, but to a stranger it would be almost cute.

"But... I observe, Sherlock Holmes, I've read your articles," he commented, tapping his fingers on his knee. "To be honest I didn't find your theories as original as you publicize them to be, I would have thought they were obvious... but again, it seems the rest of the world is just not thinking properly..."

He looked at him, sliding closer. "Everything is relative though, isn't it..."

"I just needed to proposition you and now you are checking me out... do you like what you see, Sherlock?" he whispered, leaning closer, enjoying the power he knew he had over the other man, his inexperience was going to be his downfall, that much was sure.

Sherlock tore his eyes away from the other man and forced himself to look out of the window. He couldn't understand why he wanted to keep staring at him anyway. Just because they'd made this arrangement, doesn't mean he'd actually have to find it enjoyable, to 'fancy' Jim.

The detective was a bit annoyed about the way Jim dismissed the dissertations and articles he had written. He'd spent a long time on those and happened to think they were rather good, although apparently this man seemed to think he had some kind of superior intellect.

As Jim sidled closer along the back seat, Sherlock turned his head to look at him again, so close he could feel his body heat, his aftershave and his natural aroma coarsing through his nostrils making him slightly light headed. He closed his eyes for a brief moment.

"I see a man. Nothing more nothing less," he replied, trying to keep the coolness in his voice, but finding it was a little shakier than he would have hoped. "I don't find people attractive, Jim. All that is...pointless."