Sherlock felt the cool metal of the knife pressed against his skin. He couldn't see, but he could guess who it was; Moriarty. The back of his blindfold was cut and light filled his vision. For a few seconds he was blinking away spots until vision cleared and he saw the consulting criminal in front of him.

"Hello, sexy," Jim said with a playful smirk. The smaller man's fingers grazed over Sherlock's scarf as he looked him over. Sherlock tried to remember what had led up to this moment but his memories were surprisingly fuzzy. He remembered going to a pub for a drink and a chat with an informant. After that… everything was fuzzy. With his superior knowledge Sherlock filled in the blanks with what he assumed had happened. He had been drugged, of that he was certain, then evidently he had been brought here, and had been expertly tied to a chair.

"You look confused," Jim said with a mocking pout, 'I bet you'd like to know where you are, and why you are here."

"I wouldn't protest to having that information," Sherlock said.

"Where you are, is one of my homes," Jim said. He had nestled himself, comfortably straddling Sherlock's lap, "And why do you think you are here?"

Sherlock could think of only a few likely reasons for his sudden abduction. He sighed.

'You're going to kill me," he said.

"Clever boy," Jim said as he untied Sherlock's scarf. He could feel Sherlock's tensing as the simple garment was removed. Jim chuckled. "Are you frightened, Virgin?"

Sherlock's face turned slightly pink and he leaned back a little away from his captor. Jim loved it. He ran the back of his fingers over that gorgeously sharp jawline.

"Let me here you say it," Jim whispered right up against his ear, "I want to see the terror in your eyes."

"I am not afraid of you," Sherlock denied, stiffening up and straightening his back, "If you're going to kill me, then do it."

"What's your rush?" Jim said. He knew Sherlock was immensely uncomfortable, and he was ever so enjoying teasing the detective.

"I'm not rushed, it was a suggestion to you," Sherlock said, trying to keep his cool, "The longer you drag this out, the more likely it will be for me to find a solution to my dilemma, so if you really wanted to kill me, you would have done so by now, but since you have not, it is my understanding that that is not your intention, no you're intention is something more sinister, more evil, in which you will drag out the torture of your choice."

Jim laughed. Sherlock's rate of speech always increased when he was on a roll of discoveries, it was something that Jim actually loved listening to.

"You are the clever one," he said. The consulting criminal indulged in playing with Sherlock's beautiful curly locks of hair.

"What do you want from me?" Sherlock asked.

"Want from you?" Jim was greatly enjoying the feel of Sherlock's hair in his fingers.

"You wouldn't have brought me here like this if you didn't want something from me. You would have killed me. You have the ability to do so. What do you want?" Sherlock was doing his best to remain straightforward and curt, despite the fact that Moriarty had more or less snuggled up onto his lap and was caressing him in ways that made him very uncomfortable.

"Right," Jim stood up, "I'm afraid your mistaken my cute little virgin. I am going to kill you, but I wanted to tell you first, what's going to after I kill you."

"After?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, like you said, the longer I keep you alive, the more likely it is you will escape, so while I'd like to keep you alive for this, if I want to kill you, I simply have to do it now." Jim smirked. He turned on five different monitors, each showing something different. Sherlock's eyes scanned over them. The first one was Molly Hooper, working late as usual. The second was Mycroft, working in his office. The third made him start to bristle when he saw Mrs. Hudson, making herself a cup of tea. By the time his eyes reached the fourth he was seething. He saw John reading a book next to their fireplace, but when he saw the last one, his heart almost stopped. He saw Mrs. Holmes, his mother, sleeping in her bed. He said nothing, and tried not to let his emotions display on his face. Moriarty was chuckling.

"Yes, I'm going to kill them; each one of the people you care about most," he smiled at Sherlock, "And I won't do it easily. No, I'll devise something clever, something 'sinister' as you say for each one. I'll make sure I take extra special care of your mummy."

"No." Sherlock said bluntly. He looked up, his blue eyes fiery with rage.

"What are you going to do about it?" Jim asked.

"I won't let you hurt them," Sherlock said. He cared enough about Molly and Mycroft not to want to see them hurt, but Mrs. Hudson was like a second mother to him. John… John was his only real friend in the world. And his mother… He had always caused her trouble. He couldn't bear to think that he would be the cause of her death too.

"Then my question is, what are you prepared to do, to prevent their unfortunate demise?" Jim asked, leaning in close.

"Whatever I have to," Sherlock said bitingly. Jim smiled.

"That is exactly what I wanted to hear," the criminal said. He sat down on Sherlock's lap again and before Sherlock could say anything in retort he had kissed him. The detective struggled against his bonds, his mind panicking slightly.

"What's the matter Virgin?" Jim breathed softly against his skin, "I thought you said you would do anything, and you're getting flustered from just a kiss? Have you never kissed someone before?"

Sherlock's face was going from pink to red as attempted to avoid eye contact. A huge grin grew on Jim's face as he began to laugh.

"Oh my God, you haven't have you?" he laughed, "You really are innocent aren't you?"

"I've kissed people…" Sherlock mumbled.

"But not a real kiss was it?" Jim whispered, "Not like this…"

Jim slid his tongue into Sherlock's mouth and the young man squirmed in his seat, desperate to get away from this molestation. Jim kept it relatively brief.

"You know that I have a close eye on those you care about, so I can trust you won't be acting up right away," he said, taking his knife and cutting the rope that bound Sherlock to his chair, "I want you to text John and your brother, and tell them that you got a case in America and you had to leave immediately. You don't have time to explain."

"You think they'll buy that?" Sherlock asked, "Mycroft's not an idiot, and John knows I would take him with me."

Jim's jovial mood disappeared. He took Sherlock's phone to text it himself:

"Got a case in America. Could be the best of my career. Have to leave immediately. –SH"

He sent the text and they both waited, staring at the phone. Mycroft replied first.

"Call me with details if you get the time.–MH"

Moriarty texted back, "I don't need you keeping an eye on me. – SH"

John's was a little delayed but came a few minutes after.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you? I could be at the airport in 20 minutes."

"No, I have to do this alone. –SH" Moriarty texted.

"There, I think that should buy me some time," Jim said, "Wouldn't you say so?"