Baker Street, London

"I'm a consulting detective, not a psychic. And you know how much I hate company..."

Sherlock's expression did not change. It was flat, emotionless, and quite upset.
Already, thoughts on what the strange boy had told him was now rolling through his mind.

This master criminal was creating an army. No use in turning him down, this could milk some precious information.
He forced a good-natured smirk on his face, and motioned for Jim to come inside, backing from the doorway.

"All the same. Come inside- you're obviously here to toy with me more. So why not with a cup of tea, mm?"

"Funny that you should suggest it." Clearly amused now, Jim raised the hand that held the present - a box of tea bags. "I thought you and your little pet might enjoy it," he said lightly, brushing past Sherlock into the flat.

He turned, facing Sherlock again once he was in the centre of the room. He batted his eyelids innocently. "Toy with you? Oh, no. I thought maybe a nice chat... It has been a while, hasn't it? A shame, really..."

Jim's pout was almost genuine. Really, he did enjoy bantering with Sherlock, but it was more than that.

It was thrilling, speaking to someone of equal intelligence.

Holmes was clearly unamused.
He shut the door quickly after Moriarty, steepling his hands and pressing them to his lips.

Though at Jim's comments, he could not help a half-smirk.
"You don't just come to talk, Jim. Enemies never just waste time like this. I'll get the kettle started. Now, just what is it that you're wishing to talk about?"

He made a soft, amused 'hm' sound and placed the box of tea on the nearest table. "You know me well. I'm flattered." Jim wandered about for a moment before making himself comfortable, choosing John's chair. It was rather lovely.

Jim chose not to elaborate just yet. He simply gave Sherlock his signature wide smile, showing a little bit of his teeth, almost like a panther might.

"Is there now a rule saying I can't come for a harmless visit? Perhaps I should check that with dear Mycroft, but I can't say he'd be too pleased to hear from me. I doubt he'd give me a chance to even say a word."

As Sherlock begrudgingly busied himself with setting on the kettle, he took a long moment to answer Jim.
An amused smirk strolled over his expression as he replied.

"Mycroft wouldn't hesitate to try and run you through with his umbrella, I will admit. I suppose I just do not necessarily think of you as one for..... a domestic visit."

"Since when have I followed any pattern, dear?" Jim chuckled. He crossed his legs and lightly placed his hands on the arms of the chair, settling into it.

He could see why John preferred it over Sherlock's. It would be almost too easy to relax and perhaps even nap.

It rubbed Sherlock just the wrong way, at how Moriarty was making himself comfortable in John's chair.
Surely Watson would be upset to hear the villain had used it- however, he didn't have to find out.


"Every villain has his or her own pattern. Yours might be sparratic, but it is what it is. You are still the same spider, weaving the same web."

The corners of Jim's lips curled upwards. "Good," he praised. Close, he added silently, appearing more amused than the single word he'd said warranted. Richard remained silent, preferring to leave Jim to his games than to comment in his mind.

Jim tipped his head to the side slightly, scrutinising Sherlock. The detective was like a puzzle: fascinating.

(( I completely forgot about this im sorry omg ))

So what web was Jim weaving this time?

Sherlock steepled his hands, pressing them to his chin and mouth, eyeing the man as if trying to read ancient Greek.
Confusing book.... confusing man.... but oh, what a fun game.

After a moment longer, he crossed his legs and heaved a sigh.
"So are you just going to sit here and be a boring nuisance, or are you going to give me something to play with, mm?"