Set pre-FINA, no warnings really. Enjoy! :)
A crash. Two people in a hansom that had been careered into by a second, just outside 221B Baker Street.
The two residents stared at the scene from the living room window in momentary dumbfounded shock and then swiftly hurried outside to see whether they could be of assistance.
The second hansom was nowhere to be seen, but the first was still there, the panicked horses being calmed by some of the more practical members of the gathering crowd.
Between then, the two friends managed to wade their way through them, one's clear cry of 'Let me through please, I'm a doctor!' coupled with the other's aloof countenance granting them way.
The doctor set about his work in checking the victims over, as his sharp-eyed companion scrutinised the scene. His eyes flickered over the two passengers; middle-aged, and almost unsettlingly similar to himself and his companion in physical appearance, height and build.
Shaking his head with disbelief, the doctor stood with a wince to face his companion. "Mercifully, neither of these two gentlemen have sustained more than a few cuts and bruises. I daresay the shock of this will be..." the doctor tailed off as he realised the taller man's attention was clearly elsewhere, though he did not seem particularly perturbed at the fact; or annoyed for that matter.
The grey gaze was focused upon the driver. Or at least, where the driver should have been seated, for there was no sign of the fellow.
Instead, a souvenir took his place. A black envelope, with a red wax seal, emblazoned with an 'M'.
"Moriarty." The utterance was quiet and after exchanging a brief glance, the two men retreated to the hallway of their apartment as the taller of them studied the envelope as if it were imparting some precious wisdom to him. The other waited patiently; evidently accustomed to this behaviour, that to a bystander, would no doubt have seemed decidedly strange.
Finally, pale, nervous fingers teased the envelope open and both men peered inside expectantly. Confused glances were exchanged before the contents were tipped out onto a stain-mottled palm.
"Garlic," the doctor observed, brow furrowed - there was no mistaking the pungent smell.
"A crushed clove of garlic to be precise," his companion added quietly. "It appears the Professor is trying to convey a message."
The atmosphere surrounding them was sinister for the length of a heartbeat, until a devil-may-care grin spread over the face of the fair-haired doctor.
"A telegram would've sufficed."
Please leave your thoughts in a review! =)
~ Qalam
P.S. I have no idea why it's garlic in the envelope instead of, say, a tomato, but sometimes, details like that just seem to fill themselves in, whether I like it or not. xD