It all starts one day, a few pints (John Watson/James Moriarty)

John grabbed Jim's hand once they were alone, feeling his heart beat faster at the idea of sharing his room with someone else for the first time.

"It's nothing special, I know, your apartment is much better," he commented, moving closer and kissing his lips softly.
"But it's ours for now... so I hope you'll like it here," he whispered, blushing just slightly.

Jim swung his arms around John's neck, looking him straight in his eyes while smiling.

"It's perfect." He said just before kissing John the same way as he had when he arrived.

John smiled at Jim, and, this time more prepared, he leaned in the kiss, lingering, losing himself in his boyfriend's taste.
"I like this already," he whispered against his lips as he pulled away, his hands moving up and down the other man's back.

"Let's put your things away and I'll make you a cup of tea, how does that sound?" he asked with a grin.

Jim's hands rested in John's neck, his thump slowly rubbing up and down along the area.

"hmmm. Me too." He replied. He really did enjoyed this.

Eventually he let go and bowed over to his bag, opening it and starting to get his things out. "Sounds wonderful." He replied as John suggested tea. He could use a cup.

Once finished with his things, he went back downstairs. Sherlock still mocking in front of his window and Jim couldn't help but sneak a smile at the sight of it.

Sherlock had not moved since the couple had moved up to John's room. He had tried to distract himself from desperate attempts to listen to the actions upstairs. Not that he heard much, but he now knew the cab's license plate, the amount of affairs the passing secretary, the job the man standing across the street had and a lot more. He was with his head at the man standing at the Bus Stop. He had thought his profession was a painter, telling by the white overalls he was wearing under his denim jacket and the paint can filled with brushes and other stuff. The strange thing was that the bus had passed 2 times by now and he had not moved. Plus: the man had looked up and down the street, obviously nonchalant scanning 221B too. Suspicious.

He was interrupted by John coming downstairs. He did not look at him and continued looking at the street below. The familiar sound of John putting the kettle on made him relax a bit. When Jim came in again, he tensed up a bit and was reminded of the situation he was in. He refused to look at any of them, until they talked to him. He would see the activities with one glance and preferred to delay that moment for as long as possible

((did I just introduce Seb? muhahahaha)

((Er... I don't think Moriarty ordered Moran to come o.O he has't said anything of the sort in the post >> ))


John felt compassionate in his good mood and he placed one cup of tea by Sherlock, before going back to the kitchen and getting Jim's and his.
He placed a kiss on his boyfriend's cheek before he motioned for him to sit down.

"Make yourself at home," he muttered, and grinned. "We spend a lot of time here..."

((I think Sherlock is becoming paranoid. I mean... the most dangerous criminal mastermind is living with him under the same roof. I think Sherlock would suspect that Jim would have a back up man to guard him, so Jim hasn't ))

Jim glanced at Sherlock before he accepted his cup of tea. "Thanks" he mumbled and smiled at John. He looked around the place, John was sitting in an armchair and the one opposite it was free, so Jim walked over and make himself comfortable in it.

"I really like this place." He complimented; not just addressed to John, but also to Sherlock.

"Don't get too comfortable." Sherlock grumbled lowly. He picked up the mug of tea, took a sip and made his way to the sofa. He flopped himself onto it, still not looking at the couple. First his John, now his armchair. What could he steal more that was precious to him. His violin?

((Grrr, my armchair!))

((Guys, is this topic still active? It would be a pity if we neglect this topic))

"It's cosy, isn't it?" he commented towards Jim as he sipped his tea, very much aware Jim had chosen Sherlock's armchair.

Those two might be made for each other...

He looked at Sherlock. "Just drink your tea and don't be an ass to our guest," he said with a smile, daring Sherlock to say anything else.

"I am always an 'ass' to guests, society and people in general, so don't take it too personal, Jim." He addressed it to Jim and gave him a very fake smile.

He sipped his tea. He was not going to get out of this room when the couple were in it. Hopefully, they would feel obliged not to make out in front of him.

Jim's eyes switched from Sherlock to John, though they lingered on the detective as he addressed him. He laughed slightly. "I didn't expect anything else." He said, before drinking his tea and making himself more comfortable in his chair.

"It's not like you can't try to be different, Sherlock," he pointed out, smiling at Jim when he heard his reply. "Especially because Jim is staying for a while..."

He looked at Sherlock, sipping at his tea. "Don't you have anything to work on?" he wondered, noticing the detective was not working at all.

"Nope." He shifted in a sitting position to finally look directly at the two and ignoring John's first remark. No way he was going to "Since Moriarty cancelled the Great Game, as I call it, I have nothing to do." He addressed this mostly to Jim and gave them a fake smile again.

"I'm sure you'll find something soon," he muttered, uncomfortable at the mere idea that Moriarty could really be his boyfriend. "You should just be happy he stopped it, it means no innocent will be tortured today," he added, and sipped his tea, looking at Jim.

Jim didn't even acted different when Sherlock mentioned the case. He couldn't, it would mean the end of his whole disguise.

"What's he doing then?" He asked interested when John mentioned innocent people. "Can't you just call Scotland Yard?" He frowned, as if he didn't get the idea of how big this man is.

"Pffff" Sherlock let out a mocking sigh. "Scotland Yard is just a bunch of idiots who don't observe. If they are in trouble, they always consult me."

"But this time it was different, because Moriarty addresses the approximately 5 murderers or mysteries to solve exceptionally to me. I wonder what his next move is..." He steepled his hands together and touched his lips with his fingertips. He gazed at Jim from the corner of his eye. He wouldn't act differently, of course, but he sort of liked the indirect conversation.

Johm sighed, trying not to roll his eyes at Sherlock's arrogance. "This Mortiarty guy is quite smart, it seems, and powerful... The yard can't do anything... And apparently also quite obsessed with Sherlock... They have their own games..." He said, and looked outside the window.

"I wouldn't mind that much if only it didn't involve other people... It's sick," he said thoughtfully.

Jim's eyes went from Sherlock all the way over to John. A worried expression on his face. "Are you safe from him? He wouldn't come after you, right?" He asked worried.

It would only be a few days before Jim had ordered his people to start the game again. Randomly, so it wouldn't be as thick as he did before, when John found out about him.

"I think we have a special something." He looked at Jim, trying to catch his sight, to raise his eyebrows in reply.

"We don't know yet. It's a matter of time though."

John frowned at Jim's words: "Why would he come for me? It's Sherlock the one he is interested in..." he commented, not sure why anyone would try to get him. "I merely help out, I am useless most of the time, even if he killed me, nothing would change," he said, tapping his cheek absent-mindedly.

There was something about Jim in that moment, John had no idea how to place it. He was perfect, of course, the perfect boyfriend, but there was something stiff about him.
Maybe he was just imagining things.
Or maybe it was just because he felt nervous about having Sherlock and Jim in the same room.

Jim grimaced painfully when John mentioned him being killed. "Don't say such things." He said concerned, keeping his charm as ever.

Jim knew he had to watch every step, every word would trigger a spark of doubt and consideration that he might or might not be that Moriarty.

The thought of Moriarty killing John was unbearable, but he acted along. "Oh, no, please do, John. It's good to be realistic."

"And don't pretend it wouldn't change anything, John. You know better than that." He said, unwilling to speak his mind truthfully.

John looked at the two men confused, he didn't really know what to say. "What would change? That you would eat less and be a bit more cruel with the people you catch?" he asked, turning to Sherlock, because he really had no idea what the detective meant.

"I don't think Moriarty cares about me one bit, I am just an accessory... I am in danger just as much as the next person," he said with a shrug, he was trying to be reassuring towards Jim now.