She leads me to a small clearing off to the side of the big oval. As she walks me over, her hand clenches around my arm, dragging instead of leading me. I don't try to struggle. I can tell that I could easily get away, as her grip told me that she had a weak spot between her thumb and first finger which I could easily take advantage of, but I am intrigued. Who would go to such measures to contact me? Obviously, a few people sprung to mind such as Mycroft (he always had a dramatic streak, and he and I went quite far back) and Moriarty. The second of these choices was obviously more worrying.
When we arrive, it is empty. It is dark, the only light coming from the weak sunlight that had managed to fight it's way past the heavy clouds to dapple the ground here. It will rain soon. I can hear children playing in the oval, which isn't even visible through the trees. The woman finally lets go of my arm and pulls something out of her jacket pocket. She hands me a folded piece of paper before pulling out her phone and walking away. She didn't make eye contact with me the whole time, which was the first thing that set me on edge. The second was the note.
After a first examination I discovered that the paper was low quality, probably bought at a cheap store. There was a hint of a stain in the corner that told me that the author was a coffee drinker, pure black coffee to be exact. This meant that they were a bad sleeper but a workaholic, probably staying up late and waking early. Their brain was cluttered and they were getting frantic. This last point was due to the fact that they had spilt their coffee. From the exact way the paper was folded (no extra creases meaning that it was folded perfectly on the first try), I could tell that this person was slightly obsessional and a perfectionist, and people like that don't just spill their coffee.
I had discovered all of this in about one minute, possibly a new record for me. I decide to unfold the paper. The words 'Ignis et Aqua' are the only marks on the page. They are small, but as they were mysterious and in the centre of the page they immediately draw my attention. I know that Ignis means fire in Latin, and Aqua means water.
'Fire and water....I wonder what that means,' I puzzle.
My head snaps up at a sudden sound, my eyes searching the dark before meeting a pair of equally dark eyes, glinting from the new light of the rising sun. My heart leaps, but strangely I am not afraid. Well, too afraid. I mean, I am standing alone in the middle of an empty oval too far for anyone to hear me yelling with possibly the world's most dangerous criminal.
"Moriarty."
He lets out a little laugh and steps out of the shadows.
"The one and only darling. Did you get my note?" He mocks.
"Fire and water. I mean, you're definitely going with an elemental theme here. I'm guessing that what I said in the hospital was right then."
He smirks a little bit.
"And of course, you're fire. The temper, the destruction, the power above everything else. So I'm guessing that makes me water. What is you sick obsession with me? You said yourself that you'd see me later, so you had to have already set this up. I'm guessing that the bomb you threatened us with wasn't even real."
Moriarty laughs, a sound that strangely had the opposite sound to joy.
"I think you should stop there darling. Can't have the master criminal being 'deduced' by the master detective now, can we? Besides, we don't even know each other properly. Allow me to introduce myself." He is smirking again, and stepping closer to me.
"No, I think I'll keep going. I'm clearly getting into some of your deep psychological issues," I mock him back. His eyes turn from playful to murderous.
"So you have an obsession with me. Now, given your clear mental instability I would have said that that would be incredibly possible, but I'm thinking that you actually need me for something. Now, what would the great Moriarty need from the likes of me? I studied in criminology in Australia, a little far from your reach don't you think? My record, which would be why you went this far to get me over here, contains only that and a few other things. Let's see, history of work in programming, medicine...hm. I'm guessing that you're after the first."
At this point, Moriarty looks ready to slit my throat.
"I would stop there darling. I do the talking here."
"Oooh all macho now are we?" I scorn.
He whips out a gun, pointing it at my head before I have time to register what has even happened.
"I really suggest that you let me talk now."