Moriarty: Jim Moriarty. Hi. {no reaction}. Jim? Jim from the hospital? Huh. Did I really make such a fleeting impression? But then I suppose that was rather the point. Don't be silly. Someone else is holding the rifle. I don't like getting my hands dirty. I've given you a glimpse, Sherlock—just a teensy glimpse—of what I've got going on out there in the big bad world. I'm a specialist, you see. Like you. Sherlock: "Dear Jim, Please will you fix it for me to get rid of my lover's nasty sister." "Dear Jim, Please will you fix it for me to disappear to South America." Moriarty: Just so. Sherlock: Consulting criminal. Brilliant. Moriarty: Isn't it? No one ever gets to me. And no one ever will. Sherlock: I did. Moriarty: You've come the closest. Now you're in my way. Sherlock: Thank you. Moriarty: Didn't mean it as a compliment. Sherlock: Yes you did. Moriarty: Yeah, okay, I did. But the flirting's over, Sherlock. {sing song} Daddy's had enough now! I've shown you what I can do. I've cut loose all those people, all those little problems. Even thirty million quid just to get you to come out and play. So take this as a friendly warning, my dear. Back off. Although. I have loved this. This little game of ours. Playing Jim from IT. Playing gay. Did you like the little touch with the underwear? Sherlock: People have died. Moriarty: That's what people DO! Sherlock: I will stop you. Moriarty: No you won't. Holmes to Watson: You all right? Moriarty: You can talk, Johnny Boy. Go ahead.