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"Bored" The word went into the void, and the only one who heard it was the skull resting peacefully on the mantelpiece. Sherlock sighed resignedly and fired at the ceiling. Since Dr. Watson got married and left the apartment at 221b Baker Street forever, the aforementioned skull has become a regular listener to the detective. And this brainless shell had to listen a lot. Starting from the complaints of the detective about the lack of interesting crimes, ending with shooting at the walls.
"What do you think, my dear friend?" Sherlock began to search the Internet for information about recently committed crimes, hoping to find something interesting. "Maybe I'll find an interesting crime here at least, if the idiots from Scotland Yard can't provide me with anything?"
Holmes was flipping through the pages on the screen, skipping dull and ordinary cases when he came across a very interesting advertisement about a bank robbery. Several large diamonds were stolen from the safe deposit box. Sherlock's eyes shone with a feverish gleam. The detective tossed the skull aside, trying to stop shaking like a drug addict who finally got his fix.
"Moriarty..." Sherlock whispered the name in ecstasy. "My beloved nemesis, you delight me again with your brilliant crimes..."
After some time, the detective found all the information on this case. Sherlock has all the facts, it remains only to elegantly string them on a slender chain of deductive reasoning...
But suddenly Sherlock's phone rang. Pink phone.
A familiar sugary voice sounded.
"How do you like the new gift from your "beloved nemesis", my dear Sherlock?" The criminal genius almost purred the detective's name.
Despite the fact that the sounds of this voice made Sherlock's heart rate sharply increase, the detective managed to calmly answer his counterpart. "Did you bug my whole apartment?"
Moriarty chuckled slightly. "Oh, of course not, honey. I just reconfigured the signal from those Mycroft-installed bugs that you failed to defuse. Well, I've answered your question. Now you answer mine."
Sherlock sighed, gathering his thoughts.
"I've solved this case, dear Jim.
Moriarty made a feigned groan.
"Oh, so fast, Sherly? However, I didn't doubt you. Will you tell me your brilliant deductions?
Sherlock Holmes smiled, anticipating the visit of his beloved enemy.
"Of course, dear Jim. Come to me.
Sherlock was sitting in his favorite armchair, his gaze fixed on Moriarty, who, as usual, opened the door of the apartment at 221b Baker Street with a skeleton key.
"Usually, people knock." Sherlock chuckled. "Although, you don't consider yourself as usual, I suppose."
"It's boring to be usual." The criminal genius purred, running his thin pale fingers through Sherlock's dark curls. "May I?"
Sherlock nodded slightly, letting Moriarty do whatever he wanted. The criminal genius sat on Sherlock's lap, hugging the detective tightly to himself, looking at him adoringly with his huge shiny black eyes.
"Everything I have to say is already crossed your mind."
"And probably my answer is crossed yours."
"Nevertheless, I still want to hear your thoughts, my dear detective," Moriarty continued to play with Sherlock's soft curls. "Please start, darling."
"I'll never stop admiring you." Sherlock gently embraced his enemy, finally beginning to tell his deductive reasoning. "Seven minutes after the fire alarm sounded in the bank building, firefighters and police arrived there. Instead of the presence of fire, they found the absence of diamonds. It is also known that half an hour before these events, one person was caught stealing keys almost at the very entrance to the bank. The thief was taken to a special room on the ground floor. In this room, an order was transmitted to one of the policemen by radio. The order is to take the thief to the police station. This incident could be considered a mere coincidence, if not for one inconsistency. The radio signal does not pass through that underground room with reinforced concrete walls. However, the people there did not suspect anything. They left the room, leaving the thief and his accomplice disguised as a policeman there. Why did the criminals need to get into that particular room? Elementary, there was ventilation. The smaller thief made his way into the ventilation and, judging by the red substance left there, used analgin and hydroperite to create smoke. Taking advantage of the commotion, the criminals opened the safe and disappeared unnoticed." Sherlock looked at Jim intently, assessing his reaction..
"I will never stop admiring you..." Moriarty whispered affectionately to his beloved and only consulting detective in the world, kissing him gently on the lips.
Sherlock returned Moriarty's kiss and ran his fingers through criminal's sleek black hair, spoiling Jim's perfect hairstyle. The consulting detective, despite his asexuality, was very pleased to see and kiss his beloved nemesis.
"Oh, Sherlock.." Jim purred after a few minutes, breaking the kiss. "Do you want me?"
"I want another case."
Moriarty slowly ran his elegant fingers over the detective's sharp cheekbones. " But you literally just solved one of my crimes."
"I admit, your crime was elegant as always." Sherlock's grayish-green eyes lit up with a familiar feverish gleam. Give me another one.
Moriarty smiled sweetly. "My dear Sherlock, I will give you as many crimes as you want. But if you need anything from me besides this little game of ours, I'm all yours."
Moriarty got off Sherlock's lap and walked to the exit.
"Ciao, Sherlock Holmes!"