Sherlock's thoughts had been correct- it was a special robbery. The entire store was completely depleted of all items that previously took up space in it. The shop itself was very small, similar to almost a mobile kiosk type of set-up, and it had been selling various pieces of jewelry. Very typical for a robbery, but everything on the walls and floors had been taken along with the more valuable things. The owner looked frantic and couldn't seem to think straight while the detective tried to extract any information from him.
"So you heard the security alarm after you fell asleep and saw a black figure on the live security footage?" He asked monotone.
"Yes, I mean I am quite sure that's what I had seen. My feverish brain can't completely be trusted, I'm too freaked out about my business at the moment." The owner spoke with a clear lisp.
"Don't worry about your business, it'll be taken care of. Now describe the black figure."
"About four inches lower than you and definitely a male's frame. Too robust and non-curved to be feminine."
"Yes, thank you. We will solve this as quickly as possible." Lottie piped up from behind Sherlock.
The detective turned back and went through his mind palace to think about any specifically strange things from the footage of the security cameras he had been shown. The thief moved the way that any other would- quickly and silently. There had to be something off about him, Sherlock was just struggling to think of what exactly had been his one detail of downfall. His head was beginning to hurt from thinking so hard with no end result.
Lottie saw his painfully distressed expression and found something, announcing that a note had been left directly below the counter. The detective broke away from his train of thought to investigate the new piece of evidence. It was very direct and solved the case immediately:
Hello Sherlock,
We meet again in an ongoing cycle
But you'll be tested on your loyalty this time.
Dear John will worry,
Many will disapprove,
And I'll win in the end.
As I always manage to.
-J.M. ❤
P.S.- The bling is behind you;
we both know I don't need it.
The writing made no sense to the detective. What was he supposed to do with such vague clues as to Moriarty's future plans? His loyalty to John might be tested, or possibly the criminal created a situation he would force the two best friends into that would prove to be challenging. Challenging mainly according to emotions, as they were something Sherlock didn't know how to control or respond to completely. These thoughts occupied his head, only vanishing when Lottie began to speak and he pointed to where the precious metal and rock objects had been stashed away. The camera only had a limited field of view, which must've allowed Moriarty or one of his henchman drop the goods only half a metre away unnoticeably.
The owner grinned graciously and expressed himself ecstatically for having all of his expensive, shiny things back. He thanked the detective and police numerous times before carefully storing away all of the necklaces, earrings, bracelets, and other objects. After doing so, the man offered Sherlock and Lottie a free piece of hand-crafted jewelry as a token of his gratitude. The detecive obviously refused, not feeling the need to accessorize himself with such female-associated objects, while the girl accepted to take one of the cheaper things that was presented to them.
"Thanks for the earrings and it was a pleasure to help you out with the robbery!" Lottie waved goodbye as they began to return home to Baker Street.
"You did well on observing that note." Sherlock complimented awkwardly and out-of-character.
"Yeah, good job solving the whole case based upon that one bit of evidence."
"Seriously, you were actually quite good."
"Better than John?"
"Well, he's gotten more practice at the job than you..."
"Just admit that you don't want to insult John because you love him."
"What?"
"Love in the more plantonic, familial or close-friend way."
"I don't admit to such things, you're beginning to sound like Jim Moriarty himself."
"I suppose that's not a compliment, but he's clever so I'll take what I can get. Thanks."
Sherlock looked slightly confused at her response, not understanding exactly why she had tried to be humorous about Moriarty. Not many people would add such a thing to a sensitive and serious topic. She grinned back as they sat beside each other in the cab, unintentionally. Lottie's topaz-coloured eyes were trained on the water droplets gathering on the window and acting like mini crystals. Sherlock, on the other hand, finally began to summarize the evidence he had received from Moriarty to figure out how to prevent whatever situation he had planned next.
His subconscious knew relatively what was going to be planned, but his mind attempted to rule it out. The idea itself was so unpleasant to Sherlock, for he valued the other person who would be greatly involved. Anyone would've been able to predict that the high-functioning sociopath would grimace at the thought of his best friend being threatened by such a masterminded criminal. Some of the last times had already had John wearing a bomb, acting as a potential target, and nearly impaled by a Chinese spear. The doctor may have had nerves of titanium, but there was only so much he could take.
So many imaginary possibilities swam around the violin-playing detective's mind. He was even beginning to feel a headache coming on from such distressing thoughts. Flashes of John being helpless to Moriarty's brutality appeared in various scenes. A throbbing in his chest became evident for reasons not completely known to Sherlock. His eyes were frozen on the seat in front of him, yet it was as if they were closed throughout his painful thought process. It took Lottie's shouts to bring him back to Earth.
"Sherlock! Duck your head, for the thousandth time! There's a fücking gunman in front of us and you're about to get shot again!" She screamed whilst violently shaking his arm around.
