Kidnapping the British Government (Mycroft/Open)

[James 'Jim' Moriarty]

The sleek black car came around the corner and parked in front of the white building. No one got out of it, and no one came out of the building to get inside. Moriarty stood across the street from the Diogenes Club, out of sight, but in a place where he could see it. Ever since thinking of his latest brilliant plan, he'd been studying the comings and goings of the ever-mysterious Mycroft Holmes. Well, studying in more detail. He already had, though not much. But now the other Holmes brother would be a major part of his plan.

After waiting a few minutes, Moriarty headed towards the car and glanced at his watch. 6:59pm. Mycroft would be walking out in two minutes and twenty-nine seconds. Oh yes, Moriarty had been thoroughly accurate. Going up to the driver's window, he knocked on it. The man got out and looked at him. "What is it?" he asked.

"I was just wondering," Moriarty began, "could you tell me-"

He stopped as something zipped from the air and hit the driver in the leg. It caused him to groan, but before he could do anything else, Moriarty clamped his hand over the man's mouth and knocked him out with a blow to the head. Two other men came forward from the spot where he had been. One of them picked up the unconscious driver and dragged him off, the other took his place in the car. Moriarty himself sat in the passenger seat beside the one Mycroft usually took, and waited.

[Mycroft]

With a flick of his wrist Mycroft turned his golden watch (A gift from the queen after... Well, you don't need to know about that.) So that the face was turned upward. 6:59 pm. Time to pack up.
With a slight sigh of relief, he put his papers back in order and did the clasps on his briefcase. Today had been a rather trying day with the new education bill, both the Afghan president and Sherlock throwing a fit about something ultimately inconsiquential, and a hundred smaller problems. Yes. Today could definitely be over. There was nothing that he wanted more than to return home, get into a dressing gown and pyjamas, and relax. Maybe read an insipid book by the fire or find some predictable programmes on the telly. Maybe he would even cheat on his diet and have a slice of cake. Yes. A slice of cake was definitely in order.
He glanced again at his watch. 7:00 pm. Right on time. The driver would be there and hopefully traffic would be light... Mycroft took once glance around his private room (He had founded the Diogenes after all) to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything (which he hasn't of course). Before striding out to his car. He opened the black door and had relaxed into the fine leather seat before he realized he was not alone. He sighed again. What a nuscaince. Looks like he wasn't getting that cake after all.
With a coy smile he turned to face his unwanted companion.
"Hello, Jim. I see that you have called off your disappearing act as well."

[James 'Jim' Moriarty]

"Evening, Mikey," Moriarty returned the greeting to Mycroft with a manic grin. "You don't mind if I call you that, do you?" Without waiting for an answer, he addressed the driver. "Take us home." The car immediately began moving and Moriarty turned back to Mycroft. "Yes, I'm back, and better than ever. No doubt you're aware that Sherlock's alive and kicking. Oh, and don't bother trying to contact him, or anyone you think could help you, because you'd be wasting your time. Not to mention that you'd be dead before you could get a word out." That said, he leaned back in the soft, leather chair. "You certainly live a live of luxury. How are things with the British Government? Or would you prefer me to ask 'how are you'?"

[Mycroft]

Mycroft gave a frightening smile.
"Ever call me Mikey again and I'll break your fingers." The shorter man showed know sign of intimidation. "And don't act like I don't know how. You don't become the British Government without learning some self defence." Jim, of course, ignored him.
"Take us home." Jim continued.
"Home?" Mycroft questioned, raising an eyebrow. "A bit od an odd place to take your kidnapping victim, isn't it?" In response, Jim decided to reply to Mycroft's earlier question. This terribly non-linear style of thinking was going to bother him. But of course Jim must have known that and was playing that to his advantage.
"Yes, I'm back, and better than ever. No doubt you're aware that Sherlock's alive and kicking. Oh, and don't bother trying to contact him, or anyone you think could help you, because you'd be wasting your time. Not to mention that you'd be dead before you could get a word out. "You certainly live a live of luxury. How are things with the British Government? Or would you prefer me to ask 'how are you'?"
Mycroft confidently leaned back in his chair.
"Sadly for you, James," Mycroft emphasized his enemy's name, fully aware that it would irritate him, "I have already contacted my people. They are tracking us as we speak. I give them..." He dramatically flicked the watch face in his direction. "15, maybe 20 minutes? Before they show up. Not long at all. And don't be silly. I would never contact my brother in an emergency. He would be glad and then hang up." Mycroft gave a dry chuckle, trying to buy himself time. Internally, he hoped that Jim wouldn't notice his bluff but he knew outside he was showing no sign. Of course he wasn't tracked all the time. He was the British Government, there was no one higher up than him to tell him to be. Tracking was for the Prime Minister or the queen. Of course h

[James 'Jim' Moriarty]

"Ever call me Mikey again and I'll break your fingers. And don't act like I don't know how. You don't become the British Government without learning some self defence."

Moriarty had to admit, that threw him off a tad. But it didn't matter. "Well, I'll keep that in mind," he said simply. He also just ignored Mycroft's question about the use of the word home. It wouldn't matter where he was going. He'd still have to do what Moriarty told him to, when he saw what the criminal had in his possession.

"Sadly for you, James, I have already contacted my people. They are tracking us as we speak. I give them...15, maybe 20 minutes? Before they show up. Not long at all. And don't be silly. I would never contact my brother in an emergency. He would be glad and then hang up."

Now, Moriarty put on a scared face and looked at Mycroft. He wasn't sure if the threat was real or not. It was hard to tell with this Holmes. But eventually, Moriarty removed his mocking expression, and laughed the threat off. "Well, I don't care either way," he said. "Even if they are tracking you and show up, there's no way they can get you back. Believe me." He was not going to be outdone. He would be the one to outsmart the British Government himself. Whatever it takes.

"And it's a shame that you wouldn't get Sherlock to come. I've been a bit lonely of late," he said. "How is your baby brother?"

[Mycroft]

"And it's a shame that you wouldn't get Sherlock to come. I've been a bit lonely of late," he said. "How is your baby brother?" Mycroft wanted to harm Moriarty when he called Sherlock "baby brother". That right was reserved for Mycroft, and Mycroft alone. But he quickly stiffled the anger, not a trace of it showing on his face. It was odd how easily Jim could provoke him sometimes, and very much disconcerting that Jim knew enough about him to do so.
"Sherlock is doing fine, thank you for asking," he said woodenly. "Back at Baker Street now that he has decided to be un-dead. And no. I'm not going to call him so you two can have a play date."

[James 'Jim' Moriarty]

Moriarty simply shrugged at this. "Ah well, your and his loss. It would've been so much fun if I had the two of you together. But the British Government will still do nicely." He could tell he was annoying the older Holmes brother, and he loved it. "Well, we're nearly there. And soon you'll be my little puppet!" he said with glee

[Mycroft]

Mycroft couldn't help but be unnerved by the smaller man's words. Even though he was trying to keep it all from his face, he had a feeling that there was just enough for Jim to notice.
"Well, we're nearly there. And soon you'll be my little puppet!" he said with glee.
As Jim spoke, Mycroft knew that this would be his last ditch effort at escape.
"Listen James. We both know that you are a very smart man. And that this is an incredibly dumb move. My men will be here within the hour and you'll be shipped off to prison once again." Mycroft's look darkened. "And I won't be as kind this time." He face once again returned to an icy smile, living up to his title. "So just let me go. I may even be nice and let you have a little play date with Sherlock if you promise not to hurt him. We both know you're doing this for Sherlock, not me. You think he's much more interesting, more useful. So just let me go. There are much better ways to get at him than through me. I mean nothing to him."