Oh, Jim Moriarty sends his love.

Yes, he’s been in touch. Seems desperate for my attention ...

... which I’m sure can be arranged.

I had all this stuff, never knew what to do with it. Thank God for the consultant criminal.

Gave me a lot of advice about how to play the Holmes boys. Do you know what he calls you?

The Ice Man... and the Virgin.

Didn’t even ask for anything. I think he just likes to cause trouble. Now that’s my kind of man.

And here you are, the dominatrix who brought a nation to its knees.

Nicely played.

No.

Sorry?

I said no. Very very close, but no.

You got carried away. The game was too elaborate. You were enjoying yourself too much.

No such thing as too much.

Oh, enjoying the thrill of the chase is fine, craving the distraction of the game – I sympathise entirely – but sentiment?

Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side.

Sentiment? What are you talking about?

You.

Oh dear God. Look at the poor man. You don’t actually think I was interested in you?

Why? Because you’re the great Sherlock Holmes, the clever detective in the funny hat?

No.

Because I took your pulse.

Elevated; your pupils dilated.

I imagine John Watson thinks love’s a mystery to me but the chemistry is incredibly simple, and very destructive.

When we first met, you told me that disguise is always a self-portrait.

How true of you: the combination to your safe – your measurements; but this...

... this is far more intimate. This is your heart and you should never let it rule your head.

You could have chosen any random number and walked out of here today with everything you've worked for.

But you just couldn't resist it, could you?

I’ve always assumed that love is a dangerous disadvantage.

Thank you for the final proof.

Everything I said: it’s not real.

I was just playing the game.

I know.

And this is just losing.

There you are, brother. I hope the contents make up for any inconvenience I may have caused you tonight.

I’m certain they will.

If you’re feeling kind, lock her up; otherwise let her go. I doubt she’ll survive long without her protection.

Are you expecting me to beg?

Yes.

Please.

You’re right. I won’t even last six months.

Sorry about dinner.