I Scream, You Scream, Sunny Screams for Ice Cream! [Greg Lestrade]

Moriarty sat on the dull, wooden bench, impatiently waiting for Lestrade's arrival. Of course, it was the perfect place to hold their "meeting", as no one goes to Sunny's anymore. Though, he doubted they ever will after he's done with her.

Moriarty tapped on the bench absentmindedly, his smooth fingers falling into the grooves. Every so often he'd take a glance around, hoping to find Lestrade, Sherlock's other "play thing", but unfortunately not a soul was in sight. Perhaps I need to turn the music on, then the idiot may be able to find his way... he thought, disappointedly. It was so typical of humans - a bunch of apes they all are, thinking they're so clever, but in reality, they're as stupid as the next. Moriarty had suffered this all his life, never being able to meet a matchable opponent. He was Yin, without a Yang, he was without a challenge... At least until he met Sherlock.

Before Moriarty was to defeat Sherlock, he wanted to play with his so much beloved "pets". So why not Lestrade? It might be fun playing with you. Especially the game I've got installed for us. He thought with a grin. But for now, more waiting...

Lestrade stared at his phone, time pausing briefly until Sally had snapped him out if it. He shook his head, looking up at her.

"Meeting's at five…what are you looking at?" She tried to peer around, but Lestrade quickly slipped the phone into his pocket.

He got up, stretching. The reporter was still lingering around in the corridors, she looked at him and began to advance. He pulled out his gun, putting it in the holster around his waist, Sally took it as an opportunity to halt the reporter in her tracks.

Moriarty had a hostage, Sherlock could have hacked his phone but have the chances of getting arrested by one of his division, again.

"Bloody reporters, Sally, cancel that meeting, I have something important to attend to."

Sally looked at his retreating figure, disbelief playing in her eyes, before rolling them and turning back to the reporter.

Lestrade exited Scotland Yard, it was almost normal. Fire streaming out of half-destroyed buildings and he half-hazarded a guess to who might have started it.

He walked up to Sunny's ice cream, knowing that Moriarty was on the look out. He needed to gather his thoughts as he absent-mindedly bought a mint chocolate cone and joined the familiar man on the bench.

"Where is she?" Lestrade turned to look at Moriarty, serious face was on.

Moriarty pulled a face, teasingly, "Why are you so serious? Relax a little." Moriarty didn't bother worrying about others coming; he knew Lestrade would come alone, especially with his hostage. A matter of morals, which Moriarty would more than willingly use to his advantage.

"How's life Detective Inspector Lestrade? Still solving cases, or is Sherlock already doing that for you?," he grinned, taunting the old detective. Moriarty felt no sympathy to Lestrade or his situation, but instead his own feelings of anticipation. It was building up inside of him, and he couldn't wait any longer. Moriarty could just imagine it in his head, the plan like a machine with it's togs moving, and causing another contraption entirely.

Predictable, Moriarty loved to tug on his strings. Lestrade gave a deep inhale and exhale of breath, what was he going to say? Moriarty wouldn't give up a hostage that easily. He tensed up, Sherlock had once absentmindedly told him that he had several snipers trained on him and it wasn't pretty. And here he was, sitting with the consulting criminal a mere distance away without whipping the handcuffs out.

Placing his free hand on his gun before he took another lick at his ice cream, allowing the mint to fill his mouth.

"I'm guessing you set the city ablaze and take me down to Sunny's to barter for the hostage?" Lestrade stood up, motioning to the ice cream shop. "I could arrest you now, but you were so kindin not setting Scotland Yard on fire, that I am…willing to make a deal."

Lestrade moved his hand from his gun holster and ran it through his hair, sighing. He was making the ultimate deal with the devil and he was handing his soul over willingly. Part of him was thinking that he should shoot him but the other thought that the beer was finally getting to his head.

"What do I have to do?"

Moriarty gestured his hands up in the air with mocking defeat, "Okay, okay. You got me. All I want from you, is your voluntary participation in my little game." A cruel, devious smile came over his face. He found he was slightly impressed that the Detective hadn't already attempted to cuff him. All the more fun then, he thought.

Moriarty stood up next to Lestrade, "Remember when Sherlock had to solve those cases within a set time limit? Well...I'm going to give you the chance to play too." His eyes lit up like a wild fire; everything was falling into place. It was easy, and especially with Lestrade's cooperation. "Now, no cheating! No going to Sherlock and asking for help." He tutted.

"Not like I would…I can't seem to find him and John." Greg moved his hand back to his gun. A voice in his head told him to end this sick game but he would never find the hostage. Moriarty was sick. He wanted to tease him, kill more innocent lives. But he didn't really have a choice, people would still die.

Where would he start? Could he turn to anyone for help? "Look, you kill one more person, you will never see the daylight ever again!"

He finished his ice-cream, dropping the napkin into the nearby bin. Lestrade didn't bother sitting down, there was now matters to go and attend. He looked at his phone, searched through his contacts. He had one but he had to hide it up his sleeve for now…

Lestrade turned back to Moriarty, his jaw tightening. "Where do I start?"

Moriarty suppressed a laugh at Lestrade's threat, though he did somewhat admire the old detective's courage. "Can't promise that!" He winked and continued, "Well, Sunny's standing outside Mainwood Shoping Centre, and I suggest you run to her... Text-ya later!" Moriarty gave one last smile, before walking away, and disappearing behind two buildings.

{End}