Warning! Crack fic ahead. Absolutely nothing is to be taken seriously. If taken seriously I am not responsible or any deaths, injuries or 'wft' inquiries the audience may have. Thank you and have a good day.

Note: This is an older fic

The two faced each other only a few feet apart. The abandoned warehouse was warm, with an irritating buzzing sound coming from overhead.

James smiled cheerfully/wickedly at his adversary. Sherlock had the gun pointing right at the other man's forehead.

"It's over Moriarty. Give it up."

"How 'bout no?" Moriarty retorted slyly, "Why don't I just kill you instead?"

"And how do you think you're going to kill me? I'm the one with the gun."

Moriarty's eyes flashed in excitement. Not a good sign.

"But I'm the one with the de-aging gun!"

And suddenly the villain pulled out the most bizarre looking gun from out of nowhere. It was so weird looking that Sherlock had to bite his lips to keep from laughing.

"And now to tell you my entire plan and motives right before I kill you. Just like in the movies! Every villain has to do that, you know? So anyway! With this de-aging gun, I will turn you into a helpless three year old. Then your strength will be no match for mine. I'll strangle you to death."

Sherlock arched an eyebrow. Turn him into a three year old. Right. Like that's even possible.

Moriarty decided he didn't want to bother telling anymore so he just fired the gun at once. A bright rainbow colored beam shot out and hit its target. In the next instant, Sherlock was looking up at the other man who somehow became a lot bigger within seconds.

It took a moment for it to register inside Sherlock's head that the gun had worked. He was now in the body of a three year old. His clothes somehow shrank to fit his body (something he was grateful for. Nothing's more embarrassing than being a child and naked in front of your greatest enemy) and the gun he was holding had disappeared completely.

Was this the end? How could Sherlock fight him now? Moriarty was staring at him. He was no longer smiling. Instead, there was an expression on his face that Sherlock couldn't read.

The villain rushed forward without warning. Sherlock didn't have time to react. His entire life flashed before his eyes. This was it. Moriarty was going to strangle his fragile three-year-old neck.

Moriarty did grab him but not by the neck. His hands clutched his arms. Sherlock was confused by the look Moriarty was giving him now.

"Oh my god," he said slowly, "You're so CUTE!"

Ouch. Sherlock's poor eardrum. But he didn't have time to worry about that. He was suddenly lifted up and being carried by his smiling enemy.

"Cute cute cute cute! How cute!" he chanted hysterically.

Sherlock struggled to get out of this crazy man's grasp.

"Moriarty? What the hell! Weren't you going to kill me like- four seconds ago?"

"I changed my mind. Now I'm going to adopt you instead! I'm going to be your daddy and teach you all you need to know about being an oppressive ruler of the world. Doesn't that sound nice? I bet you're already excited."

The three year old felt his jaw drop. Moriarty's legs started moving but the man wasn't looking where he was going. His whole attention was on the boy in his arms.

"Moriarty. Listen to me," time to reason with the crazy man, "You need help. What kind of drugs are you taking? Something more potent than what I am, obviously."

Moriarty's lips curled into a disapproving frown.

"No sir, Mr. Sherlock Moriarty."

"...Sherlock Moriarty!"

"You're not taking any drugs. Not until you're fourteen. Now daddy has to go bomb a few people so you be a good boy and stay in this room until I get back."

The room they had just entered was at the very top floor. There was a sheet-less mattress, a bathroom and a television. The television was perched on a counter that Sherlock was now too short to reach.

Moriarty shut the door and set Sherlock down on the filthy mattress. He smiled at his new 'son' before turning on the television. He changed the channel to a little kids' show with an animated tiger eating his vegetables.

"Remember kids. If a carnivore like me can eat his veggies, then so can you!"

This had to be a joke, Sherlock decided. Surely Moriarty wasn't seriously going to leave him here with this kind of torture. Not even he was that cruel.


Moriarty walked towards the door. Sherlock grabbed his leg.

"Wait wait! You can't be serious! You're not seriously going to leave me with no way of changing the channel?"

"Aww. You're already missing daddy!" Moriarty seemed genuinely touched.

He patted Sherlock on the head once, snuck out the door and locked it before Sherlock could stop him. Sherlock banged on the door, pleading for the other man to come to his senses until the footsteps faded away.

Now he was alone. And dear god! The tiger was now playing hop-scotch with a lamb. There were so many things wrong with that! Sherlock had to make his escape!