A velvety darkness had fallen over London as the city drifted into unconsciousness. At one end of the city, a lone man stood watching the darkness fall from the dingy window of an abandoned building. His thin frame sported a suit, as dark as the hair he slicked back from his face. He popped a piece of gum into his mouth, and let his head sway along to the music drifting out of the phone in his pocket.
Behind him, seemingly out of nowhere, another man appeared in the shadows with no more than a soft rustling to give him away. The first man glanced up at the noise, turning off the music as he saw the other man's reflection in the window.
"Good evening," The new man said in a voice that was deep and somewhat mesmerizing. He stepped out of the shadows. He too was wearing a suit, though his was slightly lighter. He was older than the first man.
"Why am I here, Mr. Crowley?" The shorter man asked in his sing-song voice. He didn't bother leaving the window. The other man had yet to capture his interest.
"I'd like to purpose a deal," Crowley said, with a gesture, "Well, more a simple business transaction."
"And what could you possibly offer me that would make me even consider your deal?"
"I can give you what you want," Crowley said.
The younger man turned to face him, a spark of interest flaring in his dark eyes. "I'm listening."
"I can give you Sherlock Holmes' head on a platter," He said, then as an afterthought, he added, "For a… small price."
"Well, Mr. Moriarty," Crowley smiled, "I need a… small favor. We want similar things, you and I. And I'd like to help you, help me, help ourselves."
"What kind of favor?"
"Just a few things I need help breaking. Nothing that you and your vast collection of degenerates can't handle."
"What things?" Moriarty asked, his interest was seriously beginning to get piqued now.
"Seals," Crowley replied.
Moriarty's dark eyes widened a bit as he realized what the other man was suggesting. "You're trying to raise Lucifer. You're going to start the apocalypse."
"And when our side win, which I guarantee we will, I'll make sure you're rewarded," Crowley said, taking a few steps closer. They were now face to face, only inches between them. "You can have your fun killing Mr. Holmes in every way imaginable. The possibilities are endless. That is, if we have a deal."
Moriarty was quiet, considering his options. After a moment, he met Crowley's dark eyes. "I take it this isn't a deal to be sealed by a handshake."
"You would be right."
A smirk turned up the corners of Moriarty's lips. "You could buy me dinner first."
"You agree to the deal, and I'll buy you the entire restaurant," Crowley said, "So… What do you say?"
"I'd say you have yourself a deal," Moriarty chimed, his sing-song voice dancing over the words.
"Marvelous," Crowley said, then raised an eyebrow. "Shall we?"
The two men leaned towards each other slowly, until their lips met. The kiss wasn't romantic. On the contrary, it was rather business-like. Firm and full of purpose. A moment later, they broke apart and stood, looking at the other.
"Pleasure doing business with you," Crowley said, a smug smile on his stubble lined face.
Moriarty grinned, a soft laugh escaping his throat as he looked up at his new partner. "Oh, this is going to be very fun."