A/N: Sequel to Interview.

"You have news?" Professor Moriarty queried as Peters entered his study the second time that week.

"I have the information you wanted about the two men helped the police solve the murder of Jacob Carter," he said, immediately arresting the Professor's full attention as he stopped in front of the desk.

"Tell me everything you know." The emotion in the voice was unidentifiable, possibly because there was none there at all.

"Well, Professor," said Peters, his brow furrowing as he attempted to recall all that he was to report. "Their names are Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson."

"Describe them to me. Start with the second man."

"Dr. John Watson received his degree in medicine in 1879, and soon after served as an army doctor in Afghanistan, until he was shot in the shoulder and leg not long afterward. He then suffered from some illness—I could not find out what—and returned to England to recover. He came to London, and soon took rooms with the Holmes fellow at 221b Baker Street, where they both still live.

"He does not seem particularly dangerous, other than that he is a very accurate marksman. He is of average intelligence—not brilliant, but not stupid either. He is known to be a very kind and patient man, and as honest as the come, almost to the point of being incapable of lying."

He said the last few words with an air of proud finality, apparently having finished his statement. He seemed to expect some reaction from Moriarty, but received none.

"And the other?" asked the Professor with his unnervingly emotionless voice.

"Sherlock Holmes is an odd sort of man; the type that stands out in a crowd," said Peters slowly, as he attempted to think of a way to express the inexpressible.

"I would appreciate it if you would be more specific," said the Professor testily. "My time is of importance, and I am sure that yours is as well. In what way is this man so... different?"

"He is far taller, thinner, stronger and more eccentric than almost any other man of his age, but his main peculiarity is his intelligence, which seems to riv—well, he is a genius."

If Moriarty could tell what Peters had originally intended to say, his expression did not betray it.

"He is an outstanding analytical reasoner," Peters continued, "though his education is varied and his knowledge in some areas is extreme, and in others nonexistent. He has a detailed knowledge of everything related to crime, and has been successful in helping Scotland Yard with several cases. He is the younger brother of Mycroft Holmes—" at this, Moriarty raised his eyebrows leaned forward even farther in his seat "—the government official. Even without the help of a powerful brother, Sherlock Holmes is still obviously the more dangerous of the two men, though his companion should not be dealt with lightly either. Dr. Watson seems to be quite willing to risk life and limb for his associate."

"This is all the information you have for me?" asked the Professor.

"Well, I have a photograph of each of them," Peters replied uncertainly, pulling said photographs out of a pocket in his coat and handing them to the Professor, who took them and immediately began to study them.

Peters shifted awkwardly on his feet. "Do you have any new orders for myself and my men?"

"Continue to watch these two, especially Holmes," Moriarty replied, not looking up from the photographs. "If they become to much of an annoyance, they will have to be eliminated." He continued in a lower voice, more to himself than to Peters. "This Sherlock Holmes fellow intrigues me; he may prove to be more interesting than I had first though. I wonder if I could use him to my advantage..." he trailed off into a thoughtful silence.

"It will be done, sir," Peters said, answering the last statement directed to him.

Moriarty made no sign that he had heard. Peters glanced uncertainly at the Professor, at the door, at his feet, at the window over his left shoulder, and finally back at the Professor. He waited several more seconds, but Moriarty seemed to have forgotten he was still there. Peters departed from the Professor's study as quietly as he could, leaving the Napoleon of Crime to his musings.