[INT: 221 B BAKER STREET, the morning after.  SHERLOCK HOLMES reclines on the sofa, an all-sorts box of conflicting emotions: exhausted, relieved, content and frustrated, among others, all stemming from the last several days, but most especially from the events of a few hours prior. He’s both met and been bested by his opposite number, and it’s been both exciting and vexing all in one go.  Enter JOHN WATSON from the bath, toweling off his hair.]

JOHN: God, I can NOT believe we got out of that alive.

SHERLOCK: Yes, possibly my finest hour.  Yet.

JOHN: I should say. Brilliant, even for you.

SHERLOCK: There’s no need for effusive compliments.

SHERLOCK: Had he not worn us down with his game, I should think I would have come up with any number of easier and more effective solutions that would have given us the added bonus of removing Moriarty from the board, so to speak.  Indeed, after a brief nap and some reflection time, I’ve thought of no less than five more effective, but far more boring, plans of action.

JOHN: Well, you won’t hear me complaining.  We got out of the most harrowing situation of our lives – and I’ve been to war, remember – in a manner so incredible that anyone hearing of it would be hard-pressed to believe it to be unembellished. I’m even reluctant to blog about it for fear people would call me a liar.  Still, I’ll never forget it.

SHERLOCK: Nor, I doubt, will Moriarty. Still, no point in dwelling on the past. Have you seen this article in today’s paper?