A/N Doyle owns all characters mentioned in this story...
The rest of the afternoon seemed to drag on for an eternity. Holmes locked himself in his room and I was left in the sitting room with nothing to occupy my time aside from thoughts of our meeting with Moriarty. I knew that Holmes was pacing as he fought to contrive some sort of a plan to outwit his adversary, and I found myself pacing, as well, but not for the same reason. I found myself pacing because I was afraid that something might happen that night that would be irreversible.
The hours finally passed, and the afternoon light gave way to night. Holmes came out of his room shortly after night fell. He walked into the center of the sitting room and looked about aimlessly. After a few minutes, he broke the silence. "I feel that it would be best if we took the train from Marylebone Station to Charing Cross Station and walked the remaining way to our destination. The train will eliminate any risks we would be taking by using a cab, and it will be quicker. There is a train that leaves at a quarter past ten. This will bring us to Charing Cross shortly after half past ten, which will leave us plenty of time to walk the remaining distance to the warehouse. I would like to leave here by ten of ten."
Although Holmes did not say it outright, I knew what he was feeling. He was allowing ample time for us to reach the train station, and then to reach the warehouse. He did not want to be rushed in any way, for if he were rushed, it would tamper with his coldly calculating mind.
It was shortly after eight o'clock when Holmes shared his plans with me. This left us roughly two hours before we were to catch our train. In order to pass the time, Holmes settled into his chair and picked up his violin. He began to play a tune that was unsettling, at best. It was a melody that had undertones of hopelessness, but there were moments when the music seemed to speak of a shimmer of hope. I had never heard the tune before, but I knew that he had picked it with the express purpose of putting his thoughts and emotions to music.
For a little over an hour and a half I listened to his music. Then he gracefully ended the tune and placed the violin in its case. After closing the case and putting the instrument away, he addressed me with further details regarding his plans for the evening. "I don't know what Moriarty has planned for us, but I would like to hope that I will be prepared for it, if not mentally, then at least physically. I am going to take a cane with me, and I need you to bring your revolver, a matchbook and your medical kit."
I did not question his request, I merely obliged. I walked into my room and took my revolver from my desk drawer. I then took my medical kit from the floor and placed it on the bed. I looked through it to make sure that it was properly stocked and that I was not missing anything. After assuring myself that my kit was in order, I proceeded to search for a matchbook. When I found the matchbook, I brought all three items into the sitting room and placed them on the table.
By the time I had found all of the necessary items, it was nearing the time for us to leave. Holmes had risen from his chair and was putting his coat on. He handed me my own, and then left to search for his cane. He had many canes that he used for various occasions, and I guessed that he was looking for one of his nicer, sturdier ones. Holmes was generally meticulous when it came to his dress. He always considered both appearance and function. He would want a cane that would be inconspicuous, yet strong enough that he could use it to defend his life.
While he searched, I put on my own coat and placed the revolver in my left pocket. I then placed the matchbook in my right pocket, and decided to carry my medical kit.
Holmes appeared shortly thereafter with a tall black cane, and together we headed off towards the train station.