Miss Me? (Jim Moriarty Fanfic)

Miss Me? -Chapter Two-

*Sherlock's POV*

My phone text ringtone went off yet again. I opened the text, expecting it to be from John to ask why I haven't replied for a while but it wasn't him.

Shall we end this where it started? Pool at midnight.
-JM x

It was official then. Jim Moriarty was back and now he wanted to 'end' it which more than definitely meant that he was going to try and kill me. But I wasn't going to let that happen. I'm Sherlock Holmes. I never lose.

That was that then. I was going back. I was going back to where I belonged.

When my plane landed, I didn't bother telling John or anyone else about my arrival. I needed to sort Moriarty out. Immediately.

Coincidently, at that moment I got another text. No prize for who guesses who it was from.

Come on, Sherlock, honey. Don't keep daddy waiting for too long or he'll just come to you.
-JM x

I rolled my eyes at his childish ways. He was so immature yet so dangerous. I could never tell when he was joking or not. One moment his voice would be all high-pitched and silly and then the next he'll be screaming in my face. He was a very strange man.

He was like me in some ways. He couldn't handle boredom for too long. That's why he is so obsessed with me. I keep him entertained. Well, this whole 'game' was about to end for him because I was going to, once and for all, beat Moriarty.

I entered the same, old pool where I almost blew the whole place up before Moriarty's phone started ringing with his 'Stayin' Alive' ringtone. It was almost funny, in a way. But I could never laugh at his humour because it was all serious.

The pool looked very familiar as I walked in. It brought up loads of unwanted memories.

I waited for about ten minutes until I gave in being silent and yelled out, "Just show yourself already!"

There was a haunting silence. Everything was so quiet that I could hear the gentle movement of the swimming pool waves.

I eventually sighed, realising that he wasn't even here. I began to move to the door. As soon as my hand touched the door handle, I heard a voice. His voice.

"Awh, leaving already without even welcoming back your good friend?" I heard him say and, even though I could not see him, I felt his smirk.

I automatically turned around but he was still nowhere to be seen. I curiously scanned the room as my eyes darted around.

I heard footsteps. They were walking towards me because they were getting louder and louder at each step.

I saw the silhouette of a man standing in the doorway. He kept walking until he came out of the shadows and into the light. Then, he just stood there with a sickening smirk plastered on his face.

There he was. Jim Moriarty, the man I believed to be dead, standing right in front of me.

He was wearing his usual grey suit. His hands were in his pockets and he was chewing gum.

He really hadn't changed at all. He still had his dark, brown hair with a fair amount of hair gel. He still had his brown eyes. He still had his cold glare which could almost kill a man. And, worst of all, he still had his intelligence. I could tell. I could tell that he was going to do something very clever indeed.