Hello! Sorry about the wait, I've been very busy and had a few technical difficulties. Anyway, enjoy! (Also, I apologize that it's so short. Writer's block.)
John stood next to Sherlock in Lestrade's office, feeling bewildered. He cast a glance at Sherlock, who appeared unconcerned.
"Erm, Sherlock?" Sherlock merely raised an eyebrow. "Yes, John?"
"How could he have survived?" Sherlock looked for a moment as if he would answer, but abruptly strode over to the door and flung it open. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"
Moriarty smiled to himself as he walked into the office, then turned to face Sherlock.
"I see that you figured out part of my little riddle. I have another game for you to play, and it's a bit harder this time. But if you lose, I will end you."
Sherlock smirked. "What will you do this time, kill me for real?"
"No, Sherlock. I have something much better in store for you. But for now, I'd better be off." He tossed a folded slip of paper at Sherlock and walked out, the door closing softly behind him.
Sherlock's phone went off almost immediately after Moriarty left. He pulled it out, took one look at the message, and then he was out the door. John ran out of the yard just in time to see Sherlock in a cab headed for Baker street.
As John walked into 221B, Sherlock was typing furiously on his laptop. He briefly looked up when John came in, but went right back to whatever he was doing.
"What- Why did you run out of there so quick?"
"This." Sherlock gently threw his phone at him. John noticed something off in Sherlock's voice, but ignored it and looked at the phone.
"Oh." He gulped. "Molly."
"Yes." Sherlock said. "And this." He held up the piece of paper. "We have work to do." He closed the laptop and grabbed his coat.
"Err, Sherlock? What does the paper say?"
As Sherlock stepped onto the landing, he called "Come, John. No time for trivialties."
As the two ventured into one of the darker corners of London, Sherlock's behaviour grew more and more erratic. He paced, walked betwwen multiple buildings, tapped on walls, peered into windows, and kept looking at that blasted paper. Finally, he stopped in front of an abandoned warehouse, checked the paper one last time, and pushed the door open. "Looks like he's been waiting on us." The lights flickered on, and at the other end of the room, stood Moriarty.
"Hello Sherlock," he called. "Are you ready to play the game?"