A shocking discovery was made once the two men returned to the flat. Everything had disappeared from the inside. Literally everything. From the seats to the wallpaper to the coats in the closet. Any object that had previously been kept inside of the flat was gone, including Mrs. Hudson. The walls were chipped and various shades of off-white after the wallpaper had been pulled off.
Sherlock immediately tensed, "My skull! My solutions and microscope and cases! Why the hell would anyone take the time to rid of it all?!"
"Moriarty probably did it to distract you and stop you from solving your cases." John replied as calmly as he could muster.
"I had cigarettes! And expensive materials! And illegal chemicals that will take forever to get back! My laptops have been taken! Of course I'm distracted, John! All of our belongings, including our so-called landlady, are missing!" The detective paced anxiously.
Maire sniffed around the floor and wandered about the room, unluckily not finding any hints on how the situation came to be in the living room. Once the copper-coloured puppy meandered through the hallway towards the bedroom, however, she stopped in front of a clean envelope with neatly inked writing. John picked it off the ground, smiling at the usefulness of his gift to Sherlock, and handed it to the detective. His pale blue-green eyes scanned over the front, analyzing everything he could to find information on the envelope. After ripping it open, he read a single sentence off of the page, as that was all that was left on it-
The final problem ends now. For realsies this time.
-M :)
The curly-haired man didn't quite connect how he would have to die again in front of the criminal since it must've been what Moriarty was referring to in the note. John stepped over to view the paper and glanced at Sherlock accusingly.
"Don't you dare try to exclude me from this, I've been through enough and I already know about it." The doctor sassed.
"Alright, but you have got to listen and cooperate completely with whatever I tell you to. It's a game and you need to play it right to survive." Sherlock replied, beginning to explain his plan for the most probable of situations that could occur.
>>>>
The two men stood in the cold, dark night while waiting for Moriarty to arrive. The evening air was so chilly, allowing for everyone's warm breath to be visible as wispy clouds of white. They were outside of the art museum where they had to see the fake painting and Sherlock was to say what was wrong with it over the phone before time ran out. It brought back an unhappily nostalgic memory to John since a child's life was being threatened. He was also thinking about what to do with the depleated flat. His partner, on the other hand, remained impartial to the predicaments they were in and glanced around the quiet surrounding streets.
A man with sandy blonde hair and auburn brown eyes walked directly in front of them, turning and stopping to stand right in between the other two. John flashed him a tight smile when the stranger turned to glance over at him, feeling confused as to why this man decided to stand where he did. It was odd since they all stood in a line on the snow-lined street and in complete silence for the duration of ten minutes.
"I've had enough of this night air, follow me inside." The blonde man directed.
Sherlock immediately turned to obey the instructions while John shot both of them a frazzled look, only trailing behind because the detective had walked inside the art gallery.
The sparsely decorated white walls had remained the same since the fake painting case. Simple paintings with small descriptions lined the hallways, each at the uniformly same height and same distance apart. The security guards had obviously been cleared away, or else there would be a crowd of them around the three trespassers. The short walk had ended in one of the first few rooms. Altogether, the three men stood beside each other with various expressions upon their faces; Sherlock's being neutral, John's reflecting his confusion, and the stranger with a cocky smile.
"Hello boys!" Irene Adler smiled, stepping into the room and lightly waving her hand out in greeting.
"Miss Adler." Sherlock said monotone.
"Oh don't worry, I didn't stop in on my own account; I have no use for you. Well, no good use for Mr. Holmes here." She winked.
"But I do!" Moriarty sang, walking into the room with a large smile.
"For God's sake." John muttered.
"You see, Sherlock, you're not the only one with a military man. This lovely one brought you in." He said, gesturing towards the blonde stranger.
"You didn't drag us all the way out here just to meet your companion." Sherlock spoke up.
"Okay, let's get down to business then. You both know what I want for you. How would you like it done?"
