"Can't seem to get rid of you, can I?" asked John Watson as Sherlock Holmes descended the steps from the private jet.
"Well, you know what it's like with me: nobody ever stays dead," Sherlock shrugged his coat back onto his shoulders as he made directly for the black car parked across the tarmac. Mycroft emerged just as Sherlock stepped up to the door. "You're certain?"
"All over London, every television possesses the same message," Mycroft held out his phone to show his brother the image of Jim Moriarty, comically mouthing, "Did you miss me" across the screen.
"It looks like the game is back on, John." Sherlock said, looking at his friend as he got in the car, unable to hide the ghost of a smirk coming back to his face.