[ The life of John Watson is very thrilling but they are about to get a shade more so. Jamie Moriarty is a British lady, she has her manners, certainly. She also has very small regard for personal space. So John Watson, upon returning to his room, would find a strange woman there. She is dressed in black pants that are evidently tailored and a silken blue blouse.

She's also barefoot, golden hair falling down shoulders and she has her back to him when he comes in. When she'll turn, she'll be smiling, something polite and charming and casual, as if she is a regular visitor, as if it makes sense she's there. ]

You're late.

[ easily, sweetly as she walks to an arm chair and takes a seat. Her accent is British, she holds one of his cups. ]

I thought of making you a cup as well but then, I considered you would probably mistake it to be poisoned.

[ a small nod, this is a perfectly normal conversation. ]

I don't believe we've been introduced yet. John Watson.

[ but she's very familiar with him. She knows his name and while his room looks exactly as he left it. well, if Moriarty looked around, she cannot be blamed can she? ]