I do not own any rights to sherlock. sadly

(there might be some spell mistakes. sorry for that)

Moriarty's case

John watsons blog

A week ago Sherlock and I were sitting in the living room. I was reading a medical journal and Sherlock was looking on the internet for interesting cases. Nothing came up. He sat there getting more grumpy by the minute. At about lunch time (I remember that it was lunchtime because I was about to say that we should get some lunch) the doorbell rang. We heard mrs. Hutson's footsteps make their way to the door and then another pair walking up the stairs. They were familiar, but I couldn't think of who it was. There was a knock on the door.

"come in Lestrade" Sherlock said and the door opened. It was indeed Lestrade, who looked even more grumpy and irritated than Sherlock.

"Sherlock, you are coming with me. If you want it or not." He said. I was surprised that Lestrade acted like that, because he knows that gets Sherlock really irritated.

Sherlock sighed "must we?" I could see Lestrade struggle. He had that expression where people want to strangle someone with their bare hands out of anger. Sherlock sighted again

"alright. we'll be right behind you in a cab."

Lestrade wanted to protest, but saw that it wasn't going to work, so he sighed again and gave us the address.

Right after Lestrade had left, I got my coat and threw Sherlock's at him. He gave me an angry look. "how many times do I have to tell you, don't throw with my coat! It's expensive!" I rolled with my eyes and opened the door.

"come on Sherlock."

He stared at me for a few seconds and then stood up.

"you people want so much today" he sighed. For a moment I wondered if he was using again. Drugs could have an effect like this on people.

Sherlock read it on my face and said "no, John, I haven't used anything except for my nicotine patches." He gave me a quick, reassuring smile.

We both went downstairs and Sherlock called a cab. We were both quiet for the whole trip. The cabdriver had music on and didn't wanted to talk to Sherlock, so he gave up.

We walked into the building that belonged to the address Lestrade gave us. It looked horrible. The walls were covered in writing in blood and a part of the floor was also covered in blood. In the middle of the warehouse was a body of a woman. I looked at the walls more carefully and noticed that the writing mostly consisted of two words: Sherlock Holmes. At the wall we faced when we came in was a message written.

"dear Sherlock,

This is another puzzle, or a challenge if you will.

Yours truly"

It wasn't signed but I assumed it had to be Moriarty. After I read the message I went to the lady in the middle of the room. She had cuts all over her body and I could see the tab he had used to drain her blood.

"Sherlock?" I asked. "this seems to look a little like Jack the Ripper." I said.

"the ripper connection is obvious." He answered irritated. "he even used yours truly. That is so cliché."

Lestrade came around a corner and walked up to us. "enlighten us" he said sarcastically but immediately became serious when he continued: "what the hell is going on here?"

Sherlock gave the room a last look before he started talking. "not much to say really." He said "it's clear that Moriarty wants something from me. Probably just having a laugh. He used the blood and everything to attract you, knowing that you will go to me."

at that moment Anderson walked into the room and noticed Sherlock.

"get him of my crime scene." He said possibly even more grumpy than Sherlock and Lestrade.

Sherlock ignored him. "the woman is just a messenger. Probably picked up from the street." Anderson sighed again, trying to get Sherlock away but everyone seemed to ignore him.

"but what about her? Who is she?"

Sherlock rolled with his eyes and started talking: "she is wearing business clothes, typically for a banker. Not married or a boyfriend. John, what do you think?" he asked pointing at the body. I looked at Lestrade, not knowing what to do. Lestrade gave me a nod and I walked to the body of the woman. I examined it closely and carefully.

"those cuts are made around the time of death but they're not the cause." I said "I bet the most of the cuts are indeed post mortem. The cause seems to be strangulation. The murderer"

Sherlock cut in "Moriarty"

I rolled my eyes and continued "tried to hide it with those cuts. Strangled with bare hands I'd think."

Sherlock came stand next to me and went through her pockets.

"her name is Elle Arthur. She works for the bank of England." He showed Lestrade her card that he got out of her pocket. I thought I saw Sherlock putting something in his coat, but at that moment I was sure I was mistaken. He looked at me, staring for a second as in deep thought.

"we need to go." He said turning to Lestrade. "come on, John. We have lots to do." I didn't understand him, but I decided he'd have a good reason, so I nodded and stood up.

Lestrade protested but Sherlock didn't listen. "Lestrade, there's nothing more I can do. I told you everything about her and I am gonna solve this problem with my arch enemy."

We walked out the door and the moment we were around the corner I asked Sherlock: "do you have any idea what you're gonna do next?"

Sherlock almost laughed and got a little card from his pocket. First I thought it was the card of the lady but it was different. Sherlock gave it to me and I read it. There was, in neat printed letters, the words

"private fencing club London" on it and in a simple but beautiful handwriting it also said: "2:00 PM don't be late. Yours truly." I turned the card over to find, in the same neatly printed letters, an address in a posh neighborhood of London. As I was looking at the card Sherlock had already got a cab. We both got in. we sat quietly in the cab until we were almost there.

"do you have your gun with you?" Sherlock asked. I nodded and got it out of my pocket.

The cab stopped and we got out. We both felt nervous. I could see it on his face. His expression was a mix of nerves and worries. He walked up to the door, a single touch making it wing open.

We both walked in. I held my gun in my hand ready to point it at anything moving. We went through a hallway and a small reception room. It seemed like the whole building was deserted.

We went into the main sport room.

Moriarty stood there with a épée, a fencing sword, in his hand. The thing that covers the hand, I believe it's called a bellguard, was covered in beautiful written letter M all over it. It looked old.

"so you came, Sherlock" Moriarty said.

"yes Moriarty" he said waving at me, implying that I should stay where I stood, and he walked to him. I hung on to my gun tightly while I watched Sherlock. He walked slowly up to Moriarty, picking up a épée on his left side and hold it in his right hand. He played with it a little while standing in front of Moriarty. Moriarty started to smile as he raised his sword. "onguard" he said as he stood in a old fashion fencing stand.

"what do you propose?" Sherlock asked as he also raised his sword.

I never got to hear the answer because suddenly I felt a someone grabbing my gun and turning my arm on my back. At the same time I saw the handle of a gun that I felt pushed into the side of my head.

"JOHN!" I heard Sherlock scream.

Sherlock took a few deep breaths, needing them to calm down.

"so if you win I'll let John live and if you lose I'll kill john" Moriarty said. It felt like my heart stopped for a moment. I never heard Sherlock talk about fencing at all or seen him do it. Sherlock pulled of his coat with one hand and threw it aside.

I tried to struggle, making the man behind me tighten his grip, trying to break my arm. So I kept still and hoped that Sherlock was able to win. Moriarty had trown his Westwood jacket to the side. They both stood in their shirts. Moriarty in a expensive white one and Sherlock in his favorite purple.

"until we draw blood?" Sherlock proposed. Moriarty smirked:

"sure. Onguared" and he raised his sword again.

"onguard."

Moriarty started with a fast attack of a lot of slashes to Sherlock's' right shoulder, side and leg. his technique was almost perfect. It was clear he had lots of training. Sherlock blocked all of the slashes with great skill but had trouble keeping up with the speed. Moriarty forced Sherlock back. Closer and closer to the wall, slashing at Sherlock controlled but fast. Finally Sherlock gave his first blow, to Moriarty's left side. Moriarty blocked it and slashed at Sherlock legs. Sherlock quickly jumped up just in time, several times, while Moriarty slashed back and forward. Sherlock aimed for Moriarty's head. Moriarty quickly blocked that one and slashed hard from left to right causing Sherlock to jump back against a cabinet showing a fencing price. Moriarty immediately tried to slash at Sherlock's head, causing the glass to break. Sherlock lent back and threw the price at him. He ducked and took a step back. The price clashed against the wall and broke into a few pieces. Moriarty came again with a storm of attacks aiming for Sherlocks neck and arm. Sherlock had trouble keeping up and backed away slowly.

"come on Sherlock" Moriarty said irritated "I thought you'd be better after those endless fencing lessons with your brother when you were young."

Instead of answering with words Sherlock answered with and angry face and an attack on Moriartys neck. Moriarty blocked the attack and went on attacking Sherlock hand. Sherlock avoided it and went again for Moriartys neck.

That was a mistake. We both knew that the moment he did it. Moriarty blocked it again and tried to stab Sherlock in his chest. Sherlock avoided it, causing him to fall on the ground. He quickly rolled over and stood up. He practically stood against the wall while Moriarty closed in fast.

Both stopped for a moment, looking at each other and slightly out of breath.

Moriarty slashed at Sherlocks head. Sherlock ducked and Moriartys sword went through an old painting of two men fencing.

He cursed; "damn, that was such a nice painting."

Sherlock aimed at Moriarty's feet and tried to slash them. He jumped up. Sherlock quickly came closer and pushed him to the ground. He fell but dragged Sherlock with him, losing his sword in the process. Sherlock held on to his one tightly. They both rolled over the ground, Sherlock one way and Moriarty the other. Sherlock was the first to stand up and Moriarty followed almost immediately after him. Sherlock was able to grab Moriarty's sword and he got ready holding both.

Moriarty slowly backed away to the wall. Sherlock ran to him, getting ready to slash his chest. As he slashed Moriarty grabbed a medieval sword form the wall, blocking the slash and breaking Sherlocks sword. Sherlock switched to Moriarty's sword hoping he would be more careful with an inheritance piece of his own.

It was true. he aimed more at the handle and Sherlocks body, being careful and trying not the break the sword. Sherlock used this to his advantage, hitting Moriarty as hard as he could but he blocked all of them. He moved in and grabbed the handle, moving the sword in a way that Sherlock was forced to let it go. Sherlock moved back as Moriarty pushed the tip softly onto Sherlock throat.

Sherlock moved backwards, putting his hands up slowly.

Moriarty enjoyed this. There was an intense smile on his face. An expression of fear appeared on Sherlocks face. Sherlock moved backwards even more, slowly getting closer and closer to the wall. Sherlock looked around in panic as he stood against the wall. Moriarty was steadely aplying more and more pressure. Sherlock moved fast once he moved. he broke the glass of the cabinet next to him and grabbed the samurai sword. he slashed Moriarty's sword away, suprising him. as those two continued fencing I saw the expression on Sherlocks face that only appeared when a plan formed into his mind. Sherlock had turned and was now with his back to me. Moriarty still got the upper hand and made Sherlock go backwards. there was something that didn make sence back then. now I know what it was. Sherlock wasn't fencing on his best. anyway, he got closer and closer to me and Moriarty's man. He helt on tighter. I felt my arm crack a little, but luckily it didn't break.

Sherlock was now right next to me and suddenly he slashed fast at Moriarty, distracting him. he gave a hard blow to Moriarty's man his face. I grabbed the gun from his hand and pointed it at him. at the same time Sherlock was so distracted that Moriarty was able to cut across Sherlocks chest. it was not deep but his shirt was cut and a little blood came from his chest. he growned.

I pointed the gun at Moriarty and said cool "put. the. sword. down." I was angry. "my life isn't a game!" I said mostly at Moriarty but also a little at Sherlock. Moriarty put the sword down slowly and Sherlock kicked it away.

"now put your hands on your head and sit on your knees." I commanded. Moriarty gave me a dirty and angry look but did what I said. Moriarty's man was now knock out on the floor.

suddenly we heared the front door open. I moved in a way so I could point my gun to both Moriarty and the door. Sherlock grabbed a sword and placed it on Moriarty's throat, pushing it softly into his skin. the door swung open and some men came in pointing their guns around. soon Mycroft followed. he seemed worried but happy when he saw Sherlock and me being fine. his men handcuffed both Moriarty and his man and got both men out of the room (they were dragging Moriarty's man at his feet). Mycroft came closer and the woman who always followed him also came in. Antya I bevieve is her name. I couldn't stop myself from smiling a little. Mycroft noticed the cut in Sherlock chest and called for a medic. Sherlock growled.

"really Mycroft, I am fine. it's just a cut."

Mycroft sighed "I am not letting you go until someone has looked at it."

Sherlock sighed "I'll let john look at it when we get home if you let me go now." Mycroft looked at me and I nodded

"I will."

Sherlock got his coat and walked out the door. the cut didn't seem to bother him at all.

back home he sat down and looked at me

"you will tell my brother if I don't let you look at it, won't you?"

I nodded while he started to unbutton his shirt. I got the stuff needed and when I came back his shirt was unbuttoned and he looked a bit uncomforteble. I quickly cleaned the cut and put some bandages on it.

"you'll be as right as rain in no time." I said to comfort him.

when I was finished he quickly buttoned his shirt up and put two nicotine patches on his arm, soon dozing of in a deep sleep.

there was a knocking on the door. I seemed to have fallen asleep because it woke me up. agian; three knocks. sherlock woke up and asked half asleep

"Mycroft?"

again three knocks, then a click and hurried footsteps on the stairs. the door swung open

"sherlock? are you alright? did Moriarty came here?" Mycroft seemed to be upset. I had never seen him upset and so it was quite weird to see this. sherlock seemed surprised too. I deduced from it that he also hadn't seen this often.

"why should Morairty come here? I thought you had him?"I asked.

Mycroft sighed "he got away. I don't know how yet. he killed the three men in the car. it looks quite horrible." Mycroft looked away. he didn't want us to see the sadness on his face. he went with his hand through his hair

"I shall be going then. have a bad guy to catch."

sherlock looked Mycroft in his eyes "don't bother brother, you won't catch him." he said and gave him a sad smile.

Mycroft left the house and we heard a car start and drive away.

"I knew something like that would happen." said sherlock and he walked away to his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

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