James Moriarty grasped the handle of the knife and focused on his target. He evened his breathing, pulled his arm back, and let the blade fly. The weapon buried itself between the man's shoulder blades. The victim let out a short, strangled cry and fell face-first to the ground. With a triumphant cry, he turned to his guard. Sebastian Moran smiled at him proudly.

"You're a fast learner," he complimented. And that made Jim extremely happy-Seb would have told him frankly if he sucked. He was good like that.

"Can I have a prize?" he asked eagerly. His companion considered it for a moment.

"If you can hit three more targets, I'll-"

"I wanna pick!" James interrupted childishly. Seb raised a brow, staring at him through thick sunglasses, before nodding. Very rarely did he refuse Moriarty anything.

James managed to stick four more targets before they called it quits. Sirens were echoing in the distance-someone had finally noticed the group of bodies in the park. The two held hands as they walked through the city. Sebastian stopped once, to buy him a touristy London hat from a vendor. Jim wore it proudly.

"Do you want to grab lunch?"

Nodding eagerly, the consulting criminal opened his mouth to ask something-and was interrupted by his ringtone.

"Ah ah ah ah, Stayin' alive~..."

"Hello?"

"Sir, we've got a situation here."

Listening to the report, Jim found himself growing angrier and angrier. By the time the call ended, he felt ready to snap someone's neck. "We're going home," he informed his guard. Moran led the way to his car and drove them home.

Once they reached their destination, they were greeted by Ethan Calhoun at the door. He was grim-as he should be. His job was to ensure that incidents didn't happen. Moran had half a mind to shoot him right then and there. Moriarty stormed past them all, taking the stairs two at a time. His shadow followed closely.

When they entered Jim's office, they almost didn't recognize it. The interior had been absolutely trashed. His desk was flipped onto its side, papers strewn everywhere. The chair was buried beneath a mountain of books from the overturned shelves. The potted plant in the corner had been smashed, scattering dirt on the thick red carpet. A single word had been scrawled on the wall in thick, red spray paint:

IMPOSTOR

"What the hell-?" James snarled. "How did anyone get in here?!"

"We've checked all the security cameras, boss. Someone snuck in through a back door-we caught him. He's being held downstairs."

"Kill him," James ordered, somewhat calmer. "Was there someone on guard for that door?"

Calhoun nodded. "Yeah, Craig, but-"

"Send him in," the criminal ordered. The men nodded and hurried off, leaving Moran alone with Jim.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly, concerned.

"No," Moriarty grumbled. "All my stuff is ruined."

"It's just stuff."

"Yeah, but..." James trailed off, wandering to the pile of books. He lifted one gently, checking for tears in the pages. "It was mine. I earned all of this, and some of it...some of it has...sentimental value."

Moran nodded, helping his boss stack the books in neat, orderly piles. None were badly damaged.

Then James came across a picture. The frame was dented, and the glass shattered. Pieces of glass sparkled on the carpet, on the other books on the floor. Jim let out a strangled cry and cast about for the picture that had occupied the empty frame. A glass shard nicked his finger; Seb grabbed his arm and pulled him back, sticking the wounded digit in his mouth to suck on.

"Calm down, James," he murmured, pulling the smaller man into his arms. "What are you looking for?"

"The picture!"

"What picture?"

"Of our first date!" Jim wailed. Sebastian hugged him close, resting his head on his boss' head.

"I have that picture," he whispered reassuringly. "I'll make a copy for me, and give you that. Now, pull yourself together. You have people to deal with."

Moriarty sniffled, then straightened. "You're right. Finish up here. I'll take care of it myself."

Once his boss was out of the room, Seb finished stacking the books.

There, among the glass shards, was a small, circular piece of the picture.

It was Moriarty's face, clipped from the picture.

AN: Hello again, everyone! :3 Here is your promised sequel. It has more of a serious tone/plot to it, but I hope you like it. Please review.