With the vindication of Sherlock upon his return over a year ago he had become, if not a hero, at least someone the public respected. As such, there was no way to present the return of Moriarty as anything but the declaration of war. The whole of the commonwealth could feel terror building- but there was no release. There were no bombs, no threats. Just silence. So London kept on about its business, the people scurrying around, not knowing what the spider had planned.
"I know what he's waiting for."
"Who?"
"Moriarty, of course."
"Ah"
As Sherlock had declared this after a two hour long staring competition with the blank telly, John was inclined to believe that Sherlock had come to this conclusion after an intense bout of thinking, rather than a sojourn to his Mind Palace. Sherlock was now sauntering around the room- the self-satisfied look on his face enough reason not to encourage him. But as John really did want to know what Moriarty was up, and four months was a long time to wait for the other shoe, most likely filled with C-4 explosives, to drop, he decided to send a little encouragement Sherlock's way.
"And what does James Moriarty want? Why is he waiting?"
"He wants us on edge. He wants me to feel safe- to feel like I have everyone protected and I do. The girls that beat up Graham-"
"Greg, and it was a gang of five women, none of whom he so much as hit before Doonavan showed up"
"That sinister little mugging someone attempted on Mrs. Hudson"
"Yeah- how did you know to dash down there?"
"Homeless Network John. Although why Mycroft's people were so slow to react is still a mystery."
"Right. And the man who broke into Mary and I's flat was pretty much a Moriarty stand-in."
John grimaced at the memory of Mary's phone call. She had been perfectly calm, but the sound of his new born daughter screaming in the background as Mary explained in a steady voice that she had just killed an intruder was enough to make him clench his jaw in worry. The man hadn't been prepared. Either Moriarty didn't know (unlikely) or had chosen not to tell his lackey (most likely scenario) that Mary was a special-ops trained assassin. And a new mother. Sherlock grinned at the policeman's look of horror at the bludgeoned intruder. Mary had given the most beautiful statement- he believed he recalled hearing the words "hormonal" given as an excuse. "And that idiot that tried to follow you home with a switchblade- how pedestrian."
As John had been attacked in a dark alley while walking home John half though Sherlock had made a pun, but dismissed the idea.
"But no one was hurt. Well, Greg a bit. But even he admitted it was mostly his pride. So what does Moriarty get from us thinking we've outsmarted him?"
"Oh, no, John. These little tests weren't so that we could prove we could protect our own. He knew that. He must know about the surveillance. I think his marking the pieces of the game. Showing us that he knows how we are going to play the game. He's preparing the board."
Sherlock steepeled his hands under his chin. "I know what he doing. But I don't know what he's going to do. All the pieces are accounted for. The board is set. So what is the next move?"
John waited a bit but Sherlock seemed happy to continue starring at the blank screen. In exasperation he spat out "so what is his next move?"
"No idea."