You sauntered into your boss' office with a coffee and pastry in hand, paying no attention to the sea of grey you passed. That wasn't unusual and you had a mission. You'd heard about the newest case and you DESPERATELY wanted it. Anything to get it away from Sally. You hated her and the way she spoke about your friend Sherlock and you needed a high profile case just to spite her. Was it petty? Yes, but you didn't care.

So as you smiled at Lestrade and handed him his breakfast, you tried your best not bounce on the balls of your feet. Something Sherlock found utterly amusing. "If it were possible, I do believe Miss Y/L/N would combust if you don't give her this case." You glared playfully at the consulting detective before turning back to Lestrade. "Please? I never ask for anything. I just want this one case." Lestrade took a bite of his pastry and nodded. "Alright, yeah." You could have jumped for joy. Too bad life had to hand you a rather large basket of lemons that day.

*time skip*

To no surprise, it was Sherlock who discovered who the culprit was. He didn't tell you, but you knew when he figured it out. He wanted you to succeed if only to not have to listen to Donovan call him a freak every time they were near each other. If you cracked the case, Lestrade would be more likely to let Sherlock work with you rather than Sally. That's how you found yourself sitting with Sherlock attempting to access your own Mind Palace as you stared at the clues and evidence. After a while, you smiled.

"I may not know who it is, but I know where they're going to strike next!" you announced and bounced up to race from the flat. You missed Sherlock's chuckle as he got up and followed after you. If he was right, as he usually was, you were going to be in danger if you were alone. Even if backup came early(doubtful), Sherlock couldn't leave you in the hands of James Moriarty alone.

You managed to beat your back up to the location. After taking a deep breath, you entered the building with your sidearm raised. It didn't take you long to find the man you were looking for. His back was to you and he was fiddling with something. "Stop what you're doing and put your hands in the air."

"Oh, and I was so hoping Sherlock would be here," the man in front of you said. "I'm Detective Y/L/N of Scotland Yard and you are under arrest-" You were cut off when he faced you. As soon as his eyes met yours, the world around you burst into color. It hurt your eyes and head so much, you nearly dropped your gun.

No...it couldn't be. This murderer couldn't possibly be your soulmate! Before you could shake yourself out of your stupor, someone came running in behind you. "Y/N?" You slowly turned your head to look at Sherlock with wide eyes that were quickly starting to fill with tears. "It's him. My soulmate," you whispered to him. Sherlock turned his icy glare on your soulmate.

Your gun was still pointed at the man you'd only seen in pictures. To your surprise, Moriarty hadn't moved a muscle either. "You can't shoot him, Y/N," Lestrade, who suddenly appeared at your other shoulder, told you quietly. "You can't hurt your soulmate without hurting yourself." He carefully took the gun from you and had John escort you out. You cast one last glance at Moriarty before you were pulled from the building.

That night, you sat in your flat, drinking. This was not at all how you expected meeting your soulmate would go. It was some sort of even-more messed up "Romeo and Juliet" situation. A detective and a criminal. The universe was clearly having a laugh at you. You couldn't even enjoy the fact that your world was now filled with color. Thus, the drinking.

You were about three drinks in when the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. A chill ran down your spine and it felt like someone was watching you. You instantly sobered up as you rose from your chair slowly. If you were being watched, you didn't want to bring any attention to yourself. You made your way to the second bedroom in the flat. It became your office after your previous roommate found her soulmate and moved out. You kept a firearm in there.

You didn't bother turning on the lights when you got there and instead made your way to the safe. To your surprise, it was empty! Your heart began racing. No one knew the combination to the safe except you so where in the hell was your gun?!

"Looking for this?" an accented voice came from behind you. You spun around, clicked on the desk lamp, and came face to face with your soulmate. "How did you get in here?" you asked. He gave you a little shrug. "Now I can't go around revealing all my secrets, can I?" he replied. You could see your gun resting on the arm of the chair.

"What do you want, Moriarty?" you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. He raised a brow indicating that he was clearly unimpressed with your attitude. He stood gracefully. "I'm curious. Why, of all the people in the world, why did my soulmate have to be you? A detective. Really puts a damper on my whole 'criminal consultant' thing I've got going, doesn't it?" His over-the-top gestures and facial expressions nearly had you laughing. You probably would have if not for the fact that he had your gun and probably one of his own. Instead, you chose to answer his question with one of your own.

"Do you think I'm happy about this? You're a psychopath and a murderer. My entire career is based on sending people like you to prison!" He slowly walked toward you. Well, more like stalked. He was like a lion preparing to pounce on his prey and you were the prey. You couldn't remember the last time you'd been so torn emotionally.

When Moriarty had you against the desk, he leaned forward with his hands on either side of you. He had effectively trapped you. His eyes stared into yours for a few tense moments as he thought about what he was going to do. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as he simply stared at you. You should have kicked him or even head butted him, but you couldn't seem to get your body to move.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Moriarty backed away. He headed toward the door. Once there, he turned around to face you again. "My card is on your desk. If you need me, call. But I will say this, if you get in my way, I will not hesitate to kill you." With that, he left the room.

As soon as he was out of sight, you slid to the floor. You wanted to scream or cry. How had life gotten so complicated? Moriarty was dangerous! He was a criminal. A thief. A murderer. But he was also the person that fate had decided was meant for you. The realization crashed over you and this time, the tears came and flowed freely down your cheeks.

You had no idea that Moriarty was standing outside your flat, looking up at the window and wondering if he would really be able to go through with his threat or if he was destined to fall by the hand of his soulmate. The answer to that complicated question would only come with time. Both of you hoped that the time would come sooner rather than later.