A short drabble from Holmes' perspective.
I am not the hero that Watson believes.
I did not wrestle manfully at the edge of a cliff with my opponent. I did not finally overcome him with luck and Japanese Baritsu.
I wrote my goodbye note the moment Watson left me alone and weighed it with my cigar case. I dusted my hands.
I saw Moriarty on the path below. I gave him some speech about fair play and a worthy end to the game we'd been playing. I waited until he came up on the path beside me.
One part of the story Watson wrote is true: Moriarty did end up in that waterfall.
After I shot him, of course.