AN: Welcome to my book! I just wanna say "OMIGOSH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR CLICKING ON THIS BOOK! " I honestly really want this book to go places, and I have to tell you, I have SOOOO much planned for this fanfiction!

Before we start off, because I know you guys don't want to listen to me talk the entire book, I wanna let you guys know what's going on!

Every chapter has a song I will ask you to play! If you have suggestions for songs, go ahead! Tell me them! I will listen and decide if the mood is right! But be warned, there will be a LOT of Twenty Øne Piløts #TRUTH but I'm more than willing to change it up!

I also wanna let you know I don't own the Sherlock characters except Greta and pretty much anyone you don't recognize in the actual show. Also, this story doesn't exactly follow the show straight forward! It kinda weaves in and out so DON'T HATE ME IF ITS NOT COMPLETELY EXACT! PLEASE!

Alright, without further ado,

Greta...

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*Song of the Chapter* : Eleanor Rigby- The Beatles

Sherlock POV

"There is difference between you and me, Sherlock. A big one." Moriarty trailed as he walked circles around me, after barging into my flat uninvited.

It was a typical Saturday afternoon, and it was highly unlikely for it to be of any importance at all. Well, until James Moriarty burst into my home and began to serenade me with tricks and teachings.

Now, by the way he barged in the door, I could tell he was upset. The creases on his forehead, his eyebrows furrowed, there was no denying it. And because he was upset, made me upset not knowing what possibly could be worrying James Moriarty. It was quite evident that no ordinary thing could make him frustrated.

"I know there's a difference between the two of us," I rolled my eyes, sitting in my chair and making myself comfortable. After all, this is my flat. I have the police hanging on my every word, if I make so much as a phone call, Moriarty would be behind bars. "I'm not a master criminal-mind." I raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, I may have forgotten that one detail," he teased, sitting on John's chair in front of me. Where was John, come to think of it? "But it's mainly because I'm more attractive than you." He picked at his fingernails.

"Ah..." I narrowed my eyes. "So this is what it's about, hm? You, keeping me distracted while you distribute the crime of the century right under my nose as I speak?"

He smirked at me, his cold eyes piercing into my own. He tilted his head to one side.

"Only if you want it to." He laughed and looked around the room. "I see your partner is missing. Where could he have possibly gone?"

"I swear, if you have him again-" I was interrupted by Moriarty's eye roll.

"Oh come on, Sherlock, that was fun and all, watching you squirm like a fly getting it's wings pulled off by a mere child, but I'm way over that now..." His smirk never faded while he spoke. His expression changed.

"No, that's not why I'm here. I'd absolutely love to do that again sometime, but...I'm not really up to it right now." He gave a small, breathy snort and looked down at his lap. "I consider you a friend, Sherlock." His smirk finally diminished.

"Consider away, but don't expect anything in return." I raised an eyebrow at his surprising proposition.

"This may burst your high and mighty bubble and all, but you haven't been the one to get closest to me."

"Oh?" I gave him a look and narrowed my eyes once again. "Well I guess I'll have to take that off my resume, now won't I?"

"This isn't something to JOKE ABOUT." His voice raised, overreacting like always, and making grand hand movements. "You need to know this...if anything happens to me. Anything at all...I need you to do one favor for me-"

"No."

"GOD SHERLOCK, PLEASE!" Moriarty's creases began to deepen. "JUST...listen. Okay? I need you to contact someone for me."

"I'm not going to contact one of your... criminal henchmen to come bust you out of whatever predicament you get into!" I began to raise my voice. Moriarty's shouted in frustration.

"Please, she's NOT A CRIMINAL!" He stood up and ran his hands through his hair. "This was a terrible idea. I need to go." He stormed out of my flat, slamming the door, a hard sound that echoed to silence.

She? Did Moriarty really say she?

I sighed in frustration and tilted my head back, until it reached the headrest of my chair, taking deep, calming breaths. Shooting my head forward, a noticed a laminated piece of paper with nothing but a number on it.

This was obviously Moriarty's She's number. I picked it up, examining the digits.

As the door slammed, another one opened minutes later, as I was still examining the strange piece of paper.

"I need to get this checked out." I mumbled.

"Get what checked out?" A voice piped in. John was taking his coat off and set some bags on the table.

"I see you've been shopping." I answered, unemotionally.

"Oh, yeah. Just things we need." He took out some of the items and set them next to the bags. "Sherlock, what do you need to get checked out?" He asked confused.

"Just this number." I said sighing. "Moriarty left it." I added.

"Moriarty!? What was he doing here?!" He exclaimed, quickly walking over to the strange number.

"She? He said She?" I mumbled again, in disbelief. "Did you hear him say she?" I looked up at John.

"Sherlock?" He said in an annoyed tone.

"Of course you didn't, you weren't there, stupid."

"Sherlock, please."

"I need my mind palace."

"Sherlock."

"Why would he say she?"

"Sherlock." John demanded more firmly.

"It doesn't make any sense unless...oh! Oh-ho-ho, yes!" I sprung up from my chair, kissing the sweet piece of paper.

"SHERLOCK!" He shouted.

"What John, what?" I cried back.

"What in God's name was Moriarty doing here?"He ordered.

"I don't know! He just popped on in!"

"He didn't say anything? He just waltzed in, threw a piece of paper at you, laminated, and walk right back out the door?" John started pacing.

"Well of course he said something, it's Moriarty. What doesn't he say?" I rolled my eyes, throwing on my coat and scarf.

"Where are you going, Sherlock?" John stopped pacing and gave me a look.

"Come on, John. We got another case. And this one is a special one." I smirked at him, dramatically opening up the door. I expected wind to flow through my hair, but you take what you can get.

Donovan was right. I certainly do get off on it.

AN: ...hey...how's it goin'?

SO! That's a prologue through and finished with! *whale cries of joy*

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