Unplanned

Chapter Two

Soon Sherlock heard the familiar quiet footsteps making their way up the stairs. The door opened. Sherlock Holmes and James Moriarty stared at each other for a very long time.

"No tea this time?"
Moriarty's cold voice sent shivers of fear down Sherlock's spine.

"I don't drink tea at night." He said shortly.

Moriarty shrugged, casting his eyes around the flat. "I do."

"Yes, but you do whatever you want."

"Can the same not be said for you?"

Sherlock didn't answer. Instead he gestured to the chair opisite him. "Please, take a seat."

Moriarty slowly made his way over and sat down in the chair.

"So. What's brought you to London on this fine evening?" Said Sherlock.

"Well it's a nice city, is it not?"

"True. But if you haven't changed since the last time I saw you you're here for a bigger reason than that."

Moriarty leaned forward. "Last time I tried to kill you Sherlock, it didn't work. And you know what they say- if at first you don't succeed, try again."

He looked up at Sherlock and grinned, his eyes black and soulless. Sherlock felt his chest tightening with fear but he didn't show it.

"How are you alive?" He asked.

"How are you?" Moriarty replied.

Sherlock stared at him. Finally Moriarty stood.

"Don't worry. I'm only leaving for now. But we will be seeing each other again."

Sherlock stood and meet his gaze. "I look forward to it."

Then Moriarty left. But Sherlock knew he'd be back very soon.

Sherlock stood at the window, watching the world go by. It was six o' clock. Soon the sun would be rising. He wouldn't admit it to save his life, but Sherlock loved to watch the sun come up in the morning. He didn't know a lot about the sun, but he did know it was beautiful.

His head felt like a computer, continuously working away, thinking of new ideas and theories about what James Moriarty had planned. Sherlock couldn't seem to figure it out. Nothing made sense. What did the consulting criminal want? To kill him, surely, but how did he plan to do it?

Fifteen minutes past six. The sun would rise in another quarter of an hour.

Moriarty was clever, very clever, but he was also insane. So his plan would be just that- clever and insane.

Sherlock Holmes stood for the next fifteen minutes. Soon he could see the rays of the sun peeking out from the below the horizon. The sun rose, slowly and gloriously, and London was lit with golden light.
And so the day began.