This Saturday seemed like any other normal Saturday, well as normal as it can be with Sherlock as both a brother and a roommate. Go be honest, you thought you were done with his incessant whining until your apartment had a ‘sudden fire’ of 'unknown cause’ at the same time you had declined helping Sherlock on a case. He had politely insisted you stay with him until the work was fixed- and well you weren’t about to refuse free housing and food on account of helping him for a few weeks. Not that you were a genius or anything, smarter than average, yes. Genius? no. But to Sherlock you were a fresh set of eyes that was accustomed to his rather unethical methods.
But alas, we come back to the present. While this Saturday 'seemed’ like any other Saturday, it was not. You had quickly discovered this fact with your oh-so-brilliant powers of deduction when you woke up with your hands tied above your head with just enough strain to become uncomfortable and a heaving chest that meant you were likely going to bruise. Great. At least there was no headache yet. Stretching your limbs out a bit and trying to rearrange yourself so your bum was more comfortable against the concrete was farely hopeless. You did however, feel warmer than the place looked, which you counted as a plus.
With a resounding crack the iron door slammed into the wall. And of all the people- “Moriarty?!” you exclaimed,“I’m not going to lie wasn’t expecting a dead man walking to be well, walking I guess?”. With a smile that had quite literally made murderers pee their pant he chuckled and slinked into the cell. “Well y/n what a surprise indeed and don’t fret yet, I’m not going to hurt you, I’m-”, he was quickly cut off,“yeah, yeah, I guessed, what exciting new game have you devised now, hmm? I’m bait I assume. Hate to tell you but Sherlock won’t come. If only because he knows I’ll slap him if he comes. And he’s been slapped numerous times by me- and trust me- he won’t want a repeat. Except this time I won’t slap him i guess…” at this point you were out of breath, and Moriaty had an (actually quite adorable) face of confusion as he tried to process your jumbled rant. “Wait….why won’t you slap him?” he retorted, still reeling from your sassy and sarcastic slap back. With all of his 'wah wah wah I’m going to skin you and turn you into shoes wah wah’ these days people tended to bow to his every whim. In all honesty he was getting quite bored with his power. Your reply was calm, effective, and also quite possibly the funniest thing he’d heard in years,“ Well, the last time i slapped him he was 19. Still young and chubby cheeked. But look at him now! If I tried to slap those cheekbones I’d do more damage to myself! They’d just cut right through me. It’s really a shame that I didn’t inherit those cheekbones. I’d piss people off just to try and get them to slap those sharp af motherfuckers.”
“Seriously, what is it with you people?” you cried out, “First I’m bait in some diabolical plan to destroy my brother, then I’m free because I made you laugh so hard that a vein popped out?!” After a second’s pause you reconsidered, “You know what nevermind. You’re crazy and I’m free so jokes on you.” Walking down the road as the adrenaline wore off. Wait. Where were you? This most certainly wasn’t London. Well this was going to be an even longer day yet.