“I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?”
“Just put them on. It’s not a slumber party without pajamas.”
“This isn’t a slumber party. It’s a hostage situation.”
Moriarty rolled his eyes and chomped his gum. “Just do it, Sherlock. One night, that’s all I want. And then I’ll let them all go. You know I’ll keep my word. It’s no fun beating you if it’s not fair and square.”
“Fine.” Sherlock snatched the pajamas from Moriarty’s outstretched hand and looked at them with distaste. He disappeared into the bathroom and came out two minutes later, glaring. He looked Moriarty up and down. “They’re nearly identical to yours.”
“Thought it would look better for the pictures.”
“Pictures?” Moriarty bounded over to him, leaned in close, held a camera arm’s length away and depressed the shutter before Sherlock had time to react.
“Were you smiling?”
Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut, trying to clear the sunbursts burned into his retinas. “Your mind is more deranged than I ever imagined.” Moriarty grinned and licked his lips.
“You think I’m deranged now, just wait till the pillow fight.”