Obviously the characters from Sherlock belong to Doyle and the BBC, I claim none of them.

A/N: This fic will take place after Moriarty comes back at the end of S3, it's just the prologue that will be set earlier on :) enjoy...

Prologue

Jim sat and waited.

He was perched on the edge of a flimsy wooden bench in a damp, dark, tiled room. His project was still unconscious. This was what Jim hated about his job: he had to be his own stage crew. The role was one of a lifetime, but he spent more of his time preparing the stage than he did delivering his lines.

So Jim waited with his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees. Doctor Watson sat on a fold out metal chair about a foot in front of him. The Doctor's hands were tied behind him to the back of the chair. It was more for effect than to actually secure him; Jim had an employee in the corner of the room holding a gun to ensure his captive didn't try to run away.

Jim regarded the man in front of him critically. He was fit, sturdy, and handsome. The only things about him that really stood out to Jim were his hands. Surgeon's hands; they looked as though they would be adept with a scalpel. The criminal mused that if Doctor John Watson was as clever as Sherlock and as malleable as Sebastian Moran, he would make a perfect business partner. Although the same effect could be reached by simply drugging Sherlock with low doses of scopolamine, and keeping Doctor Watson nearby as eye candy.

The captive shifted almost unnoticeably. Jim motioned for his threatening employee in the corner to stand up straighter.

As soon as Doctor Watson came to he started to pull at his bindings, it made Jim smile that his theatrics were appreciated. He lent forwards and cleared his throat loudly enough to snap the Doctor to attention. Watson's head snapped around and he met Moriarty's eyes, their close proximity clearly shocked Watson and he shrank back in the chair before speaking.

"Where...? " His voice was tired and drawn, the one word that he said seemed to exhaust him. He closed his eyes and waited for Moriarty to respond.

"Oh, Johnny!" The consulting criminal exclaimed in a voice that was much to joyful for the occasion. Well, this needs to be memorable, can't have Doctor Watson or his keeper forgetting how scary I am. "You are just where you've been for the last three hours, you weren't complaining about it then, so I assumed it was to your liking.

"Quite fitting isn't it? That we're in a changing room? Oh, don't look so confused. Haven't you learnt aaaaaanything from dear Sherly? Can't you work out what comes next?" Jim opened his eyes wide and stared straight at the Doctor. Unfortunately he hadn't opened his eyes yet, he just kept nodding, shallow little bobs of his head in time with Jim's words. It was a shame. He was missing the show.

"Okay then Johnny." Jim said sympathetically. He got up from the bench and walked around to the back of Doctor Watson's chair. The movement, as predicted, made the captive open his eyes to track his captor's movement.

Jim put his hands on Watson's shoulders and lent in close to his ear, "I'll tell you what will happen next." He dropped his voice several tones and made himself sound much less conversational, "You will take off that frankly horrible jacket and replace it with one I've bought for you. I'm not sure it'll be to your taste, but there's a man over there," Jim guided Watson's head to look at his threatening employee in the corner, "that knows just how much I want you to try it on."

Jim then untied the Doctor's hands and pulled him to his feet. He motioned for him to undress. As the Doctor started to take off his coat, Jim went into one of the nearby changing cubicles to retrieve his semtex jacket.

When he came back, Watson had just dropped his own jacket to the floor. Moriarty let his eyes graze up and down his body now that he wasn't quite so wrapped up. "It's such a shame you're so ordinary, Johnny." The Doctor shakily walked to Moriarty and slid his arms into the explosive-covered jacked he was holding up expectantly. As soon as his arms were in Jim had grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him so that they were face to face. The criminal held him at arms length and nodded approvingly, "Yes, Sherly will looooove this on you!

"Now, I'm going to go out there," Jim motioned to the pool entrance, "and speak to our dear Sherlock first. When I motion for you to do so, you will follow me out."

John, for the second time since waking up, tried to speak, "Please... just - I -"

John swallowed as Jim's threatening employee shifted in the corner, then he nodded and Moriarty. Jim acknowledged the nod as confirmation that the Doctor would follow his stage instructions. Before he walked out of the changing rooms, Jim bent down and picked up the Doctor's coat. He brushed it down and slipped a small piece of card into the left pocket, then he held it out to Watson. "It's probably the most expensive item of clothing you own, put it back on so that you can't blame me for it's loss."

Doctor Watson wordlessly took the coat and slipped it on over the semtex. Then he watched the world's only consulting criminal walk out onto his stage.