"Please!" Moriarty whined, his head resting on the Detective's lap which allowed him to stare up at the other man. Even though he wasn't a tall man, Jim's feet were propped up on the arm of the sofa, "I want to tell you."

Sherlock, lost in his mind palace, could barely find the concentration to replay to his partner, "No." His lips moved against his hands in their praying position.

The Consulting Criminal pouted and folded his arms, "I know you're struggling so just let me give you a hint!"

"I don't need a hint." Monotonous, the Detective replied. His eyes gazed off as though he was staring into a portal to another world.

"You're no fun." Jim moaned, throwing his arms in the air flamboyantly. "You're taking ages on this one and it's not as hard as the other two! I purposely made those tricky. I thought, 'I'll give the great Sherlock Holmes an easy one', How wrong I was..."

Suddenly, the detective had shot up from where he had been sat rigidly for the last two hours. The sudden movement sent Jim tumbling to the floor of the living room. Luckily, John wasn't home to hear the thump otherwise their secret would have been ruined! The Criminal pouted again from the floor.

Sherlock was clambering for his coat and scarf while mumbling about his latest deduction. He turned to face his partner, strewn across the floor in the canyon between the sofa and coffee table. The man's face lit up with a grin. Sherlock knew his partner was an absolute genius.

"Well done. Well done." He murmured, "This was a particularly clever one." He strode over and bent down to place a swift kiss to the crown of Jim's head.

"You like it?" Moriarty smirked, mischievously. His dark eyes glowed.

"It's your best one yet." Sherlock replied as he shot out the door without bothering to shut it.

The consulting criminal rolled his eyes before standing and grabbing his jacket from where he'd carefully placed it on the back of John's armchair. He smothered out any minor creases reverently. Jim slung it over his shoulder and strolled out of the flat. His fingers caught the handle carelessly, causing the door to swing shut.

He never loitered around the flat when Sherlock wasn't around. He wasn't paranoid about getting caught but he didn't want to run the risk of bumping into John, or worse, Mycroft. It would take a lot of explaining that he just wasn't willing to do.

He skipped down the stairs, his shoes clicking noisily, and exited the front door, whistling all the way.