Professor Moriarty smiled as he watched Holmes scribble his note for Watson. Only inches behind the great detective was the precipice over which a torrent of water roared creating the beautiful Reichenbach Falls. Beautiful but deadly to anyone who had the misfortune to fall to the jagged rocks below. His eyes were on the man in front of him but his thoughts turned to someone else, someone he hated even more than Holmes.
    "So it has come to pass at last. Everything I've been working for is about to be realized, the destruction of my enemy. 'The architect of half that is evil and nearly all that is undetected in the London underworld' I have been called by you, my creator. Ah, but you underestimated me there. More than half of all that is evil, Mr. Arthur Conan Doyle. All that is evil! But not in the dark alleys of London, in the dark alleys of your mind! How long have I felt your contempt for me even as I gave purpose to your stories? How long have you despised me while giving your love to Holmes and that fool Watson? How long did you think I would tolerate it? Oh, it took time but I had time, I had every moment of your life to hatch my plans. Time to wait for despair to weaken you, time for the slow sales of your 'serious' novels to drive a wedge between you and Holmes. And now I have brought us all here to end my rival's life. But at my own expense? Do you think so, Mr. Doyle? Do you think you can rid yourself of your own darkness so easily? No, Holmes will be dead to you even if he is immortal in the minds of the public but you shall carry the darkness of this deed at Reichenbach Falls to your dying day. You shall never escape me! Do I still have your contempt? Ah, Holmes has finished his note, time to go. Yes, Mr. Arthur Conan Doyle, Moriarty goes to his death with Holmes but the darkness will remain. Farewell."
    Holmes watched Moriarty approach along the narrow path with hate in his eyes. There was no way past him even if he wanted to escape but he was weary of life, he had no desire to fight as long as Moriarty died with him. He was only an arms reach away when Moriarty lowered his shoulder and charged. Holmes had no intention of doing it but he had trained himself so well in the arts of self defense that the move was quite automatic, a slight bend to the side and, using Moriarty's weight against him, he sent the villain plunging over the falls to his death. But Holmes lost his balance in the process and slid over the precipice, he held on to the ledge while his legs dangled over the abyss. He couldn't hold on for long, he wasn't sure why he tried. The survival instinct, he surmised. Even now the brain analyzed everything from the standpoint of cold logic. It wouldn't be long, he looked down at the water surging over jagged rocks far below and waited for his strength to give out. It was time, the fingers let go...
    Suddenly a pair of strong hands grabbed Holmes' wrists and pulled him to safety. He looked up into the eyes of his rescuer.
    "Watson! I thought you'd...you're not Watson. Yet you remind me of him."
    "I suspect Watson would say I remind him of you," the stranger smiled at the detective.
    "I owe you my life sir, whoever you are."
    "I may owe you a thing or two myself," he looked down into the seething cauldron below. "Not the least of which is fighting Moriarty."
    "You knew him?"
    "You might say that. You might say I knew him too well these last few years. It's been a terrible ordeal."
    "It has indeed," the detective's brain was making some rather startling deductions.
    "I guess we're both weary, our jobs aren't finished yet but we need a rest."
    "Yes, a rest from the darkness of the criminal mind at least. But I rather fancy a bit of physical exertion for my rest cure."
    "What do you have in mind, Mr. Holmes?"
    "I've always wanted to do a bit of exploring. Of course there isn't much of the world left to be discovered. There's still the Arctic, though. Look for news from an explorer named Sigurson," the detective chuckled.
    "So be it, Mr. Sigurson. Well, I must get back to London. I hadn't meant to come here at all, you know."
    "And Watson? I can't take him with me but he'll never let me go alone."
    "I'll give him the message you wrote to him and then I'll take him back to London with me. I suspect Watson is stronger than either of us, he'll be all right. Farewell for now, my friend. We'll meet again."
    "Farewell, for now."
    Arthur Conan Doyle picked up the cigarette case with the note in it and disappeared down the path.