"Jim Moriarty." Said John, his mouth half open in disbelief.

The man stepped out into the light to reveal himself. And sure enough, there he was, smirking like a bastard, always confident that he had won.

"Oh, happy day! John bloody Watson recognizes the obvious! And to think, that for one moment, for one fucking moment, I thought you above the normal people! I overestimated you! And this is how you repay me? Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. It's true isn't it? Society has well and truly taken a dive straight out of the fucking window and into the toilet. But then again, I'm basing that on the three bloody stooges standing in front of me. There are 7 O-Levels in this room, and they all belong to me." Jim went on.

John became impatient. "Well then, if you're done-"

"Don't interrupt me when I'm in the middle of a feckin' monologue! Honestly, you monkeys have no sense of theatre whatsoever. Surely even a bunch of simpletons such as yourselves know this scene? The valiant heroes walk into a room to meet for the first time, before our handsome and nefarious villain rudely interrupts them to explain everything! I've actually just made that up, but give me marks for good storytelling, won't you? After all, my dear Watson, you know what I'm like as a storyteller. But you're wondering what's going on, aren't you?"

Lestrade was furious. "What's there to wonder about?" He asked. "You've killed someone, you're coming with us." Jim seemed to frown at this. John was a lot calmer. "This is another game, isn't it? It's about Sherlock. I know it is." He was insistent.

Jim groaned loudly. "I haven't seen such a big bunch of dickheads since that time I went to Brighton." He quipped. "You've got it all wrong. Sure, at first, I wanted to play a game that would put you back in your place. But I realised it was hopeless, so I just killed someone instead. I dropped the name Watson because I thought someone might pick up on it and it would give me something to do. Don't you realise? The Jaguars, the bomb, Mrs Hudson, It all doesn't matter! It's just pure coincidence! And you've had to get this poor innocent boy involved, you pair of bastards. And you know something? It almost breaks my heart, killing a fellow criminal with so much potential. After all, he could have been my apprentice. But he's going to die along with you two."

Mark was shocked. "Die? And can someone please explain what's happening here?"

Jim's voice was a lot more flat and solemn now. "Yeah, die. And don't worry, you won't need an explanation. Just so long as you believe in god." Jim produced his gun. "Now, any last requests?"

John almost seemed accepting of his fate. "Just the one." He said grimly.

Jim almost seemed annoyed. "Spit it out, then." He said impatiently.

John smiled. "Dear Jim. Can you fix it for me, for you to fall out of a window?"

Oh no, John boy. But someone can.