At the address of 221B in a quiet, comfy flat, there is a man on Baker Street. One who is on the side of the angels, but is not one of them. One who is in the league with the side of good and justice, yet always is a bit on the fence with what is good within himself; an inexplicable yearning for the darker side, drawing a morbid sense of passion within him. By being drawn to the darkness that is so often frowned upon by others of his kind. Sometimes, he simply does not care, as though he does not have a heart, and this is a threatening flaw to his reputation, a treacherous one, for that matter.
It would be an even more curious notion if there was a man who lived within the very city, with the same other worldly appearance and burning glare, who played on the side of the devil. One of the many good old fashion villains, wreaking havoc amongst a world of intermingling fairytales. He lives in the shady dwelling across town in 122C. Returning from long days of hijacking, and killing, there is still something that sets him apart from the side he is on as well.
Dwelling on his thoughts away from the job; when he looks in the mirror, seeing a face not so different from the man on Baker Street, he sees something within himself, that the others do not possess. Though none of his cohorts blink an eye as a trigger is pulled, or a death wis is uttered in fading breath, he himself cannot; for he has a heart, he cares. A dangerous disadvantage in the game he plays, a flaw that sets him apart.
Deep within his charred soul, there too is an inexplicable yearning for something else, something different than what others of his kind are bred for. He is drawn to the light, a crevice deep below the murky interior of bullets and a barritone voice of a venomous snake that betrays its victimes unwillingly. Below the surface he seeks hope, and an infinitely better destiny on the side of the good.
These two men, have never met, and I pray never will, as they share more than just their appearance in common, I should tell you, but the very essence of their blood; identical twins from the womb. You may question my authority, but I assure you, I have kept them apart for over thirty years and will continue to do so, for the safety of themselves, for the sake of crimminals across the alleyways of London, and of that of the citizens of the United Kingdom.
You see, I am the British Government, and my name is Mycroft Holmes; the twins elder brother.