"Sherlock, why are we in America?" John asked for the hundredth time that day.
"It's for a case. I would've come alone but Mrs. Hudson wanted us both gone. Besides, you'd get bored without me."
"What case? We haven't had one all week."
"True, we haven't had one all week. I, on the other hand, have been working on one for the past day. An hour before we left I received this letter in the mail." He pulled out a white envelope from his coat pocket and handed it to John. Inside was a single piece of paper that read, "Miss me?"
"But- that doesn't make sense. Didn't he shoot himself in the head?"
"Yes, and then we found some other recordings that we found out were from my sister. But what doesn't make sense is how this could still be happening."
"It's someone else isn't it?"
"That's my guess. But we'll just have to wait and see. Turn it over." John turned the paper over. On the back it had an address and the time 12:00am. Underneath it said, "Come alone." "Time and place. That's where he wants us to meet, that's where we'll meet."
"That's in 20 minutes."
"Just enough time to get there." He hailed a taxi and got in, stopping John from following. "He said come alone. You get the next one. I'll meet you at the hotel."
"But-"
"I promise I won't die." With that, he shut the door. John watched as the cab drove off, hoping he'd see his friend again.
…
Sherlock stepped out of the cab and onto the concrete sidewalk in front of the large dark building. He saw a figure quickly disappear through a door. He sprinted to follow it, and closed the door behind him. The figure was gone.
"Hello?" He called. "I know you're there. Who are you?"
"Hello Sherlock," came an unsettling voice. Then the figure walked into view. They wore black tennis shoes, black pants, a black shirt, and a black hoodie. The hood was up, shielding their face, until they lowered it. A cascade of dirty blond hair fell to her waist. Her grey eyes were strangely beautiful as she seemed to stare right through him. She stood about 5'6", had a square face shape and pale skin.
"Sorry to scare you like that, just how else was I supposed to get you here?"
"I wasn't- I wasn't scared."
"Well you were at least interested. Sorry to disappoint you but this has nothing to do with him."
"How did you know-"
"About Moriarty? Let's just say I'm just as much as a fan as him."
"Who are you?"
"Me? Well, do your deductions, see if you can figure that out for youself."
He paused. Then gave in and started scanning her, looking for any hints as to who she was. "The clothes are new, but not good quality. Judging by your makeup you don't go shopping regularly and so you use as little as possible. But the new clothes… you're wealthy but you don't like to show it and so you buy low quality clothes but ones that still look good. You wear little makeup because you think wearing to much will drown out your natural look. You are happy in your current life, I know this because of the effort you put into your look. Neat fingernails, shows that you don't bite them, everything about your look is neat, orderly, this is done with a calm nature, not a nervous one. You are happy with your life and wouldn't change a thing. You get along with your family, siblings, and have always had an ordinary life, but there's just one thing I don't understand. Why would you want to meet me? You're clearly a fan but not an ordinary one. So here I ask again, who are you?"
"Try again."
"What?"
"You didn't get any of that right so try again, then you'll know who I am."
"No- what's your name?"
"My name? It's Amy Smith."
"I didn't get any of that right?"
"Well you were right about one thing. My life has always been ordinary. Too ordinary. Nothing ever happens. It's been driving me mad. But the thing is, I'm just like you Sherlock. Our minds our the same. You just used your gift for other things. You see, you use your gift for solving crimes and figuring people out but the thing is, I think that people are just so boring, so ordinary, so lifeless that there's no point in figuring them out. You see, the difference between you and me is that I spend much more time in my mind palace. I think of it as more than just a memory technique but as a way to really explore your brain. The mind is much more interesting than the outside world I find. You know, I am really glad that I wrote you up Sherlock." She started to back out of the room.
"Wait, why did you bring me here? Who are you?" Sherlock called after her. But she was gone.