3. True Love - P!nk

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"If I gave you a switch, one that would rid this world of James Moriarty, would you flip it?" John asks his flatmate over breakfast one day. He's eyes were still on the newspaper before him but Sherlock could tell that he was worrying over the answer.

The answer should have been yes, Sherlock knew that. He should want his enemy to be gone from the world but he just.. didn't.

Jim was his equal, made for him, the most exciting thing in his usually dull life.

So the answer was no. He would not flip that switch.

"Of course, I would" Sherlock answers, lying to satisfy his friend and avoid an argument.

John gives a small smile and nods before he continues to read the paragraph he'd read almost five times now.

*

The next time Sherlock comes face to face with James Moriarty, he can't help but ponder the question as they toss seemingly meaningless words back and forth.

"Without me, you're incomplete" Jim smirks at the detective sat across from him, his eyes dancing over Sherlock's face.

The criminal had broken in again and stayed for tea. John was out, luckily.

Sherlock raises an eyebrow at the words but doesn't exactly deny them. Because they were very very true. Just like other phrases James had spouted in the past.

Without me, you're nothing.

We were made for each other.

You're me.

I am you, prepared to do anything.

You and me, Sherlock.

It was all true. Every word of it.

"I hate you" Jim says again, frowning. Sherlock doesn't comment, Jim appeared to be pondering something.

When he says nothing more, Sherlock speaks up.

"I hate you too. Sometimes" He tags the last bit on as an after thought, shrugging slightly.

"Sometimes?" Jim questions immediately.

Sherlock only nods.

The next thing Jim says is far from what Sherlock would have ever expected. The suit clad criminal leans back in his chair, visibly relaxed as he stares at the detective, his eyes flickering everywhere before settling on his eyes.

"Do you think we're in love, Sherlock?"

The detective had no control over the long, shocked pause that followed as he watches his supposed enemy.

"Maybe" He answers eventually.

Jim just hums before he stands. Sherlock goes to stand too but Jim holds a hand out to stop him and without much hesitation Sherlock obeys and settles into his chair once more.

The criminal leans down, slowly so Sherlock knew it was coming, and places a single gentle kiss onto the detective's head.

Then he's gone as soon as he had appeared, leaving Sherlock with many questions.

*

John was getting worried now. Sherlock had been laying around the flat, doing nothing and not even getting dressed for weeks. He just changed from one set of pyjamas to the next like teenagers do during their school holidays. He'd even declined a rather interesting case from Lestrade that screamed Moriarty to everyone, even Anderson.

Sherlock had looked at the file, his eyes almost frightened..

John shook his head, banishing those thoughts. Sherlock wasn't scared of Moriarty or dying or being injured, in fact he lived for that excitement.

Something was going on. He knew it. But every time he was asked the man, Sherlock had just brushed it off as him feeling down lately. He never stated why, asked or not. 

John spares his friend, who was laying on the sofa, a glance before he grabs his coat and announces his off out to his current girlfriend's for the evening. As he expected, Sherlock didn't reply.

Once the doctor was out the door, Sherlock sat up slightly, nervous. The last time John left for the night, he'd been visited by his favourite criminal.

He half hoped he'd get another visit.

Jim's question... It'd had been a shock.

Sherlock had even turned down one of his puzzles, his mind still turning that question over and over in his head and he couldn't forget his own reply.

Maybe.

He'd said that he may be in love with a man he was meant to despise and want dead. But he didn't want Jim dead, did he?

Definitely not. He needed that man.

His spider. His criminal.

He admired his intelligence, was amused by his way of speaking, liked how he was interest, was intrigued by how his mind worked, was affected by his smile. Wanted his attention.

Maybe he did love Jim.

Sherlock had always been convinced that he couldn't love and never would. He'd been informed that he didn't have a heart. Jim knew that wasn't true.

Did that mean he knew how Sherlock felt about him? That is, if he did feel that way about Jim.

With a sigh, Sherlock runs a hand over his face.

He was more than disappointed when John returned home and he hadn't received a visit from a certain Irishman.

*

Jim had been watching Sherlock. He couldn't tell what was going through that beautiful brain no matter how hard he tried. He wanted to know if Sherlock didn't take that case because he was worried that Jim loved him, like had been suggested, or if he didn't take it because he, perhaps subconsciously, didn't want them to return to their old ways.

Did Sherlock like the kiss? Did he like the thought of them being in love?

Did he love Jim?

Too many questions. Not enough answers.

John left the flat.

Jim was sat on top of the building across from 221B Baker Street, watching Sherlock through the window. He debated between staying and watching Sherlock or going in there, talking to him again.

Sherlock's eyes constantly flashed towards the door and he looked tense.

Jim decided it was best to stay away, for now. He didn't want to scare Sherlock off. Even though he may have already.

That thought made him feel like Sebastian had been given an order to shoot him in the chest.

He didn't want to lose his Sherlock.

Jim was about to move and go see Sherlock, his body stiff from sitting for so long, when he spotted Doctor Watson return home. His heart fell, dangerously so, before he made his way down to the street and gazed like a lovesick idiot up at the window of Sherlock's flat as he hailed a cab.

The cabbie sent him a pitiful look as he climbed in and he couldn't help but wonder if he really looked that down.

When he got home, Sebastian was waiting with a file. Jim took hold of it with a disheartened grunt before moving into the kitchen to make a brew.

"It's the Harrison brothers, boss, they've finished the list. All five of 'em. No intervention from Holmes"

Jim hums as he flicks the kettle on, well aware that Sherlock hadn't bothered with his latest game.

Sebastian gives him a long look before leaving the kitchen.

Jim has his tea and then switches to rum an hour later.

*

This was their fourth tense meeting in the past six months. Sherlock had eventually started taking cases again but their meetings were never quite the same. The flirting had all but disappeared and the silences dragged on in a tense matter, even John or whoever may be present could sense it.

This was the first time Sebastian was present.

He took one look at the two men, standing across from each other and scoffed before shouting down to them.

"Just bloody kiss, for fuck sake!"

With that, he left.

Surprisingly, both men listened.