Found: Violin, created in late 19th century, lovely, responsive Strad copy. I'm sure it misses its owner. To claim, contact Galatea Polendina. Box 5289.
It hadn't taken them long to find Moriarty's advert. It was in the Lost Items section, just as Sherlock had said it would be. Something about the wording was off, but John couldn't for the life of him figure out how, though he had been staring at it for a good part of the past hour, rereading the short passage. He looked up, surprised to find the detective not in his standard thinking pose, but pacing around the room. He hadn't seen him this agitated since he tore apart the flat searching for cigarettes, just before Henry Knight broke the tension with a case and they headed off to the Moor. Sherlock abruptly stopped and collapsed fiercely onto his chair, bringing his fingers up to their usual position for just a moment before sliding his head down, catching his index fingers in the corners of his eye sockets alongside his nose, his thumbs wedged beneath his chin. His eyes were squeezed shut. It looked as if he was breathing into his cupped palms.
Jim Moriarty had broken in once before, leaving video surveillance equipment on the bookshelf and a eerie video on John's blog, but he hadn't touched anything then. Certainly hadn't taken anything.
"So, do we wait on a ransom note? Get the coordinates and go on a covert rescue mission with full backup? Storm the premises and the damsel in distress." John grinned. Sherlock resumed his pacing. The grin faded to a look of genuine concern.
"I know, I know, it helps you think. Well, you will just have to think without it for now. Till you can get it back, that is. We will, you know. Get it back." After more silence than John was comfortable with he continued. "Not having it won't stop you from thinking. You didn't have your violin with you when you were in Baskerville, or come to think of it, in Tibet, or in Serbia. And you managed to continue to strategise and dismantle Moriarty's web."
"He was safe, John! When I was away, he was here and he was safe!" Sherlock froze before recovering his composure and storming past John, through the kitchen, to his room.
FILL 1a/? As Romeo to Juliet (Sherlock is object sexual, Moriarty steals his beloved)
Found: Violin, created in late 19th century, lovely, responsive Strad copy. I'm sure it misses its owner. To claim, contact Galatea Polendina. Box 5289.
It hadn't taken them long to find Moriarty's advert. It was in the Lost Items section, just as Sherlock had said it would be. Something about the wording was off, but John couldn't for the life of him figure out how, though he had been staring at it for a good part of the past hour, rereading the short passage. He looked up, surprised to find the detective not in his standard thinking pose, but pacing around the room. He hadn't seen him this agitated since he tore apart the flat searching for cigarettes, just before Henry Knight broke the tension with a case and they headed off to the Moor. Sherlock abruptly stopped and collapsed fiercely onto his chair, bringing his fingers up to their usual position for just a moment before sliding his head down, catching his index fingers in the corners of his eye sockets alongside his nose, his thumbs wedged beneath his chin. His eyes were squeezed shut. It looked as if he was breathing into his cupped palms.
Jim Moriarty had broken in once before, leaving video surveillance equipment on the bookshelf and a eerie video on John's blog, but he hadn't touched anything then. Certainly hadn't taken anything.
"So, do we wait on a ransom note? Get the coordinates and go on a covert rescue mission with full backup? Storm the premises and the damsel in distress." John grinned. Sherlock resumed his pacing. The grin faded to a look of genuine concern.
"I know, I know, it helps you think. Well, you will just have to think without it for now. Till you can get it back, that is. We will, you know. Get it back." After more silence than John was comfortable with he continued. "Not having it won't stop you from thinking. You didn't have your violin with you when you were in Baskerville, or come to think of it, in Tibet, or in Serbia. And you managed to continue to strategise and dismantle Moriarty's web."
"He was safe, John! When I was away, he was here and he was safe!" Sherlock froze before recovering his composure and storming past John, through the kitchen, to his room.
John followed.