"So John tells me on a frequent basis," replied Sherlock, voice dry as if he were not bothered by being cuffed to a chair awaiting his only real friend to walk into the spider's web. "Never had much practise at it, I'm afraid. Enemies, though, that I'm good at."

He smiled. For Moriarty was his greatest enemy, someone it would always be a thrill to tangle with. There was a connection between them, but there was also an underpinning of fear and hatred that fuelled everything with a sharp bitterness.

"It'll be hard to play twister like this. Just an observation."

Not that they would be playing twister. He disliked imagining what Moriarty actually had planned for when John arrived.