This is another side-story of mine. I didn't really plan on doing it, but the idea has been nagging me, so I decided to try it. It probably won't be updated as much as TAOL, but I will do my best.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock, Watson, or any other characters in this story. I am a student and am merely doing this for my own entertainment and my readers'. So no lawsuits now. ;)


(Watson POV)

"Of course Watson, why wouldn't he?" Holmes said, sarcasm filling his voice. I looked at him, slightly upset.

"Holmes, you know that Moriarty perished, do not try to make me change my mind."

"If he perished, then why are there still bombings and assassinations going on which clearly wear his signature, Watson?" he demanded.

"Oh, how I have missed you Holmes."

He snickered, tipping his glass, again. "Well, I am going to be late for my dinner date. I will be seeing you later, Watson."

I waved at him, slightly annoyed, scoffing as he left the room. "Humph, Holmes, what am I going to do with you?"

"I heard that!" he shouted from behind the door. I chuckled to myself. He came out of the room, shirtless. "Watson, do you wish to join Ms. Adler and myself tonight?"

"I don't know that that's…

"Please?"

"I really don't think…

"I insist." Holmes stated finally. Ever since he found out that Irene wasn't really dead, he had been ecstatic, verging on insane. Well, I guess I would be going to dinner at the Royale, again.

"Very well. Eight o'clock?"

"Of course."

"I shall be there early then."

"Fashionably. Goodbye Watson." he said, going back into his room. I scoffed again and tromped down the stairs, seeing Mrs. Hudson at the bottom of them, patiently waiting with my jacket.

"Thank you Mrs. Hudson." I said quietly.

"Of course Doctor." she glanced nervously at the stairs. I eyed the expression curiously.

"It's him John. Ever since you moved out, he has been even more insane and psychotic. He speaks to himself, is constantly drunk, and is always performing experiments on Gladstone. Please Doctor, isn't there anything you can do?"

I eyed the staircase nervously. "His condition, it is rare, Mrs. Hudson. I will see what I can do about it."

She nibbled on her fingernail, worried. "Thank you Watson. It was nice seeing you."

"As it was seeing you." Tipping my hat, I grabbed my trench coat and opened the door, slowly limping towards my house, deep in thought.

Holmes was already present at the Royale, as was Irene. He was observing everything, as always, but he never fell behind on the conversation he was having with Ms. Adler. I walked up to the table, taking the empty seat that was left for me.

"Ah, Watson!" Holmes exclaimed. I raised a peculiar eyebrow but sat down, tipping my hat to Irene before removing it. Holmes had indeed cleaned up. Instead of the disgusting stain-splattered smock he wore at his house, he had changed into a finely ironed white shirt and a black jacket.

"Hello Dr. Watson." Irene stated, nodding her head. I nodded in return. "Evening Irene."

The waiter strode over to the table. "What will your poison be this evening?""Brandy please George." Irene said immediately.

"Make it two." Holmes said.

"Three." I corrected. Holmes eyed me. I returned the look.

"Watson, I must ask you, where did you get that horrible scarf around your neck?"

I looked at Holmes with malice. "For your information, Sherlock, Mary gave it to me, as a gift."

Holmes shuddered. "Clearly she was desperate to find one in time. That is horrible taste."

Adler giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. "Darling, could you fetch some fruit?"

Sherlock smiled. "Of course, love. George!" he shouted. The server ran to the table.

"Yes Mr. Holmes?"

"Fruit, please George." he demanded. George took the empty bowl with a snarl. "Of course, Mr. Holmes."

I watched, amused, as the two continued to laugh and joke, pestering the waiter. They didn't pay nearly any attention to me, I did not mind though. I should not have even thought that, because the second I did, Holmes turned his gaze upon me. I could feel his deep, dark eyes digging into my flesh. I could stand it no longer, I met eyes with him. "What now Holmes?"

"I feel something is troubling you. Perhaps you had an argument with your wife? Perhaps about the furniture in your new living room, or the painting on the wall?"

I shuddered, his uncanny observation skills frightened me always. "Holmes, Mary and I are very happy. We have not had an argument."

"I think otherwise. Is that why you took a walk to Trafalgar Square earlier today? To clear your mind, to get some air, if you will?"

I slammed my fist on the table. "No Holmes! There was no argument, there is nothing to for you to be concerned with." I stared at him. His gaze snapped onto a curious couple walking into the room. The woman was short, and white-haired, a simple expression. The man, was gruff, roughly shaven, and stout.

"Watson, do tell me what you can deduce from that couple over there?"

I turned my head, and glanced at the couple. "Well, clearly the man is of military rank, notice his fine clothes. The woman, a governess if I have ever saw one. Her necklace, given to her by her boss. The man, clearly was injured in battle, so shows his limp."

Sherlock nodded. "My my I am impressed! Any amateur could deduce that Watson. Clearly you failed to notice that he is in fact a retired guard of the Prime Minister, his leg is severely mangled, and the woman is no longer a governess, and the necklace, was not a gift…"

"Stolen?"

"Most likely." he said.

I looked at him. "If he was an agent of the Prime Minister, then that means…"

"He may or may not know Moriarty, which also means…

"Someone here is waiting to kill him."

"Yes Watson." he said, slightly annoyed that I interrupted his sentence and finished it for him.

Irene glanced at the couple. I could have swore something had frightened her, as if she…needed to do something.

"Ms. Adler? Are you all right?" I questioned. "Perhaps you should let me look you over. I am a doctor after all."

"Watson, I am fine. Really, what makes you think that I wouldn't be all right?"

Holmes cut in, as usual. "Watson, let her be. She clearly has other intentions than enjoying my company this evening."

"Sorry, my dear." she said, standing up. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and was about to turn away, but Holmes grabbed her arm, keeping her pinned. "My love, it would be best, if you stayed here."

Irene eyed the couple, and then shrugged. "Very well." She plopped down next to Holmes. Holmes eyed the movement carefully. His gaze traveled back to the couple at the other end of the room, and occasionally flashed about the restaurant, taking in every little detail. "Well well. Watson, do tell me who you see walking in the door, now."

I turned in my chair. It was a man with ginger hair and a beard, light colored eyes. He had a sense of grace, and he looked highly intelligent. I had seen him before. He was a professor, a genius, a successful author. His name: Professor James Moriarty. I had no idea what he would be doing out in public, but I also knew that it was not wise to question it, his motives would prove sinister, as always. I looked at Holmes and put my face in my hands. Oh, and he was supposed to have been dead, being thrown off a ledge along with my colleague.

"You were right, again."

He laughed quietly. "Obviously. Now, the real question is, why is he here?"

Irene made a move to leave, again, but Holmes stopped her, again. "My my, you are in a hurry aren't you?"

This time, she broke away from his hold. "Holmes, you have no idea. I really must be going now." she grabbed her purse and turned on her heel, walking towards Moriarty's table.

The professor turned to her and snarled. "Dear Irene, have you not disposed of the package tonight?"

Irene's gaze fell upon her purse. "No not yet Professor."

"My my, that could be a problem. I do suggest you give it to the special guest, right away." he whispered, his gaze falling on Holmes.

"I see you had other intentions, and feelings, this evening."

"No…"

"Enough. Just do the job you were told to do." James said, turning back to his menu. Irene nodded and rummaged around in her purse, heading over to the old man's table. She glanced at Holmes, who was staring at her intently.

"Excuse me Watson." he said, standing up, wiping his face with a napkin and walking to the table. He stuffed the napkin in his pockets, the action receiving glares in countless amounts. He smirked and arrived at the table, tapping the old man on the shoulder. "Greetings sir, perhaps you know who I am?"

The old man looked up, meeting eyes with him. "No I am afraid I don't…

"Come now…'tis me, Sherlock Holmes!" he exclaimed, clapping his shoulder. Irene threw a death stare my way, but I just shrugged. Holmes continued diving into a conversation with the man. "Really, you must have heard of me!"

"Mr. Holmes, as you say your name is…what do you want?" his wife asked. Holmes looked at her and smiled, showing his teeth. "Dear me, it seems that I just wish to talk to an old friend.""I don't even know who you are!" the old man snarled. He looked at Irene. "Do you know him?"

"I am afraid not. Now, can we get back to business?"

Holmes laughed. "Irene! Do not deny your relation to me! You know perfectly well who I am!"

Irene snarled. "Look mister, if I knew a person named Sherlock, I am pretty damn sure I would remember it. Now, this man and I have some business to attend to." she pulled a small parcel out of her purse, handing it to the man.

"Do not open that." Holmes warned. The man looked at him, confused.

"It is a payment for a deed I have accomplished. Surely?"

"It is not the payment you are waiting for, sir. Seriously, do not open that. Don't even move it." he warned. The man, annoyed, opened the box, and it emitted an eruption of smoke, followed by a slight tick.

"Oh dear! I told you not to!" Holmes said, snatching the parcel. He threw it across the room, and wouldn't you know, it landed right on my table. I had just enough time to leap over the railing and hide behind the wall before it exploded. Holmes shook his head and looked at the man, annoyed. Then he looked up for Adler, but she was gone. He sighed.

I looked out from behind the wall, seeing a cloud of smoke and a pile of debris where my plate was. I snarled and stood up, straightening my tie and picking up what remained of my hat, putting it back on my head. I grabbed my staff and walked over to Holmes and the couple.

"Were you aiming for me?" I snarled. Holmes smiled.

"Of course not old boy. I would never do that, would I?"

"You could have killed me Holmes!" I shouted, many of the people around me scared at the rise in volume. The violinist stopped playing and everyone turned around.

"Sir, you are very welcome." Holmes said, walking away. Moriarty glared at him, but he just kept walking. I followed, reluctantly, but I followed all the same. Holmes spun his hat as we walked back to Baker Street. I glared at him a while, before he finally queried about it.

"Holmes, why did you go on that date tonight? You could have gotten us both killed!" I shouted. Holmes shook his head immediately.

"We wouldn't have been the dead ones. That nice couple would have though. I went on the date because, Watson, I knew what Irene was planning. I knew that she would plan to attack them, I knew Moriarty was still alive! And now so do you!" Holmes snapped. I rolled my eyes, but deep down I had to agree.

"So, what do we do now? Surely he doesn't expect you to play that game again?"

Holmes laughed. "Ha! Again? Old boy, we never stopped!" He laughed again, apparently thinking me strange. Well I am sorry, I thought the man was dead for heaven's sake!

"Right…" I said, avoiding further discussion, but Holmes would not have it.

"I should look into this more, and catch him once and for all."

"I am right here Mr. Holmes." said a voice from behind us. We both turned on our heels and looked, seeing the Professor following silently behind us. He had clearly been following us since we left the Royale.

"Indeed." Holmes mumbled. "Well, why are you here on lovely Baker Street anyway?"

"I fancied a walk of course. Going to visit a few friends that live further down from you." He grinned maliciously. "Of course, I wasn't expecting to see you."

Holmes rolled his eyes. "Of course you weren't." He glared at the Professor. The professor returned the look, only it appeared even more sinister.

"I'll be seeing you later, Holmes. Good luck." Moriarty said, walking down an alley and out of sight. Holmes watched him fade into the darkness and looked upset, maybe even a slight bit afraid.

"Holmes, shall we go home?"

"Yes, we are going home. Via this alleyway."

I nodded, expecting nothing else. He wouldn't rest until he knew what Moriarty was really doing. He ran down the alleyway silently, and I slowly caught up with him. Moriarty turned left, so Holmes followed. He was indeed heading straight towards 221B Baker Street.

Holmes' gaze never left the Professor's back. He always stayed far enough behind not to be spotted, yet not too far to lose him. I was amazed yet again with his uncanny observation skills, and his tactics. The professor walked straight past Holmes residence and entered a house three doors down. Holmes watched the door from behind a pile of trash, silently and patiently waiting. I need a better vantage point.

He shook his head slightly and ran closer to the door, sitting down below the window, just in time too. Moriarty turned toward the window and looked out, but saw no one. I stooped down next to Holmes, "So, how are we supposed to tell what he is doing when we are hiding down here?"

He scoffed quietly and disappeared around a corner, climbing a fire escape to a second story window where he slid inside without a sound. I watched, interested as I saw his shadow flit across the rooms, and then he came to a corner and stood, waiting and watching.


(Holmes POV)

Moriarty stood in front of me, I mean right in front of me. He was speaking to some Norwegian politician. I could tell he was Norwegian by his accent, and I was tempted to shake off horrible memories, but I stopped myself. If I moved, I would be discovered, and caught spying on the man who was always caught spying on me. I couldn't stoop to his level now!

The professor turned back to the window, all the while still speaking to the man. "Well, I need more than what you gave me before. It was not nearly enough. Now, you will receive you payment when I receive my goods. Have a nice evening, sir." He tipped his top-hat and turned on his heel, walking out of the door.

Watson, you better not be by that window…


(Watson POV)

Holmes waited for the Norwegian man to leave the room, and then he traveled back upstairs and went out the same way he entered. He slid down the ladder and landed right on my shoulders.

"Holmes!" I hissed, buckling at the knees. He fell forward, but caught himself with a roll.

"Sorry Watson. Didn't see you there." he said smugly, walking back to his own door. He opened it and took a deep breath through his nose, savoring the various odors throughout his home. I watched him, not sure why he would enjoy the smell of formaldehyde or anything like it, but again, I did not question him. Holmes was Holmes, enough said.

"Holmes, I really must be getting home to Mary."

"Very well. Farewell, Watson. Enjoy your time in purgatory." He laughed at his own wit and clomped up the stairs, a drink in his hand.

I shook my head as the door closed and turned back to the exit, going back to my home to a worried Mary.

"John, what happened at the Royale? I heard something about an explosion?"

"Naturally Mary, that should not surprise you. Holmes was there, but we were not hurt…well, I wasn't. I am afraid I will need to purchase a new hat." I removed mine, and pulled the top off of it, showing Mary the tear the explosion had made. She gasped.

"I am just glad you are ok, John." she said, coming close and putting her arms around me. I looked at her and kissed her, embracing her. I smiled.

"I was with Holmes. You didn't need to worry about me."

"Being with Holmes is a huge reason to worry, John." Mary said. That made me chuckle. "True true, but I am fine my dear, just fine. But…"

Mary held me at arm's length. "But what?"

"I may be going into another case with him. Ever since we found out he is alive, there have been bombing and killings twice as worse as before. We know Moriarty survived as well."

She swatted at me. "Watson! You will not!"

"Mary, I have to. And don't be so worried. Holmes will not let any harm befall me or himself. I trust him with my life ten times over."

Mary turned away, not speaking. She bit her lip in frustration.

"Mary…"

She turned around, a hard look on her face. "Watson, I know you will go either way. Promise me you will be careful."

"You know I will be careful, Mary. I love you, and I couldn't stand to see you hurt." I tried to calm her, crooning sweet words in her ear. She smiled, and nodded.


(Moriarty POV)

Holmes, you annoying little pest. You foolish trout, you stupid man. You get in my way once more, and I WILL KILL YOU and the doctor too, and his wife. I will kill everyone that you know, ten times over.

I was walking back from that fool's house, and noticed something peculiar on the way back. A piece of cloth hung from the fire escape, a piece of black, satin cloth. I snarled. Holmes' coattails were made of satin stripes. He had been here, watching everything. I gnashed my teeth and crumpled the cloth, throwing it on the ground. I tromped back to the university, back to my dormitory, putting on bedclothes and lying down, but unable to sleep.

Holmes, I blame you for this insomnia problem…I blame you for everything. I seriously need to end your life, but how…Oh but how…

It is in this manner that I feel asleep, plotting my adversary's downfall. What I didn't know is that he was doing the exact…same….thing.


(Holmes POV)

Ah Moriarty, what are we going to do with you? You are clearly a most cruel, sinister, vile, evil, wicked, malevolent….ugh there are too many words to describe you, I would rather not list them all.

I propped myself up on the bed, unable to sleep. I put my hands behind my head, listening to the sounds outside the window. I could hear everything. The wrestlers down the alley, the chatter below the window, the gamblers a block away. Everything. I sighed, for once not being able to come up with a genius plan, at least not yet.

Suddenly I heard a knock at the door. My eyes snapped on the doorway leading to the stairwell. I blinked once, trying to figure out who would be calling at such a late hour. I took my time getting out of bed and walking down the stairs. By the time I reached the door they were pounding on it.

"HOLMES!" they shouted. I now know who it was on the other side. It was Watson, but why we would be returning now, and even returning was beyond me. Not. I opened the door. "Always nice to see you Watson."

"Yes Holmes. Let me in, it is chilly out here." he said, forcing his way inside and taking the leash off Gladstone. Oh look, he brought the test subject…

"Chilly? My Watson, it is summer. 'Tis not chilly, maybe a more appropriate term would be…"

"Yes, yes I know there is always a more appropriate term, but I don't have time for that. I promised Mary that I would help you with this, because I cannot let you go into it alone, you would get yourself killed." Watson explained. I poured him a brandy, and handed it to him, and I took my place in the chair by the fire, gazing at the smoldering flame, taking in every word without laying my eyes on him.

"Hmm…well Old Boy, I can deduce that you missed me." I said.

"Clearly not! I am just not wanting to see you get yourself killed, that's all." Watson shot back.

I let loose a snarl of laughter. "Right…well, what do you suppose we do about it, Watson?"

"Me? You are the detective!" Watson shouted. I laughed again.

"Clearly. And you are the doctor that points out the obvious. Well done Old Boy. Now, what can you tell me about Moriarty?"

"Other than what we already know, nothing."

"Figures."

"Holmes…"

"Watson?" I replied snidely. "Now since you are do not wish to share your information with me, that is if you even have any, I will share mine. I do believe that Moriarty expects me to continue this game, if you will, and I know where he is going to strike next. There is a meeting, in Paris. His next target is the Prime Minister."

"The Minister? But they are good friends, at least I thought they were."

"Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer, goes the saying, dear Watson." I said. "They never were friends. Moriarty wants his job, and envies everything about him."

"But still, the Minister?""Watson, how many times must I tell you. Yes the Prime Minister of England. He is going to strike at the meeting in Paris. Now that I have repeated everything, do you understand?"

Watson snarled. "Yes Holmes, I understand quite well."

Watson, always ready to grasp the obvious but never the unobvious. And those little details could be his downfall one day…I fear.


(Watson POV)

I looked at Holmes with the slightest bit of anger. "Holmes, I understand. Now, when will he strike?"

"In a week's time, in Paris…" he began repeating everything.

"HOLMES!" I bellowed. He turned his gaze on me, making it as innocent as possible and smiling.

"Old boy, would you like your old room?" Holmes asked.

"Yes Holmes." I said, turning to the doorway and going to my room. I opened it to find it had been piled with all of his old papers and other junk.

"Holmes, what have you done here? It used to be…organized."

"Oh trust me it is. I know exactly where and what everything is. Please don't touch anything. The bed is in the corner, still cleaned off."

I shook my head and sat down on the bed, untying my tie and unbuttoning my shirt, laying my head down on the pillow. Holmes, what have you got us into this time…


So, now that we have the ball rolling, we know that Moriarty is indeed still alive. Holmes doesn't know how or why, but he knows that he still is. Please, R&R. Chapter 2 will be up as soon as possible.