Joker loved strolling along Gotham's streets deep in the night, when the only folks who dared to come out were criminals and murderers, thieves, or freaks like him.

But as he walked along, he didn't ever expect to come across a man dressed like he jumped out of an old classic book or just came from a costume party..

Or was he one of those.. ugh.. roleplayers?

He'd certainly come across a few of those wearing- or trying to pull off VERY POORLY -his own outfit and make up.

He figured since they were pretty much running into each other on the same sidewalk, he'd bite.

"Now this is odd. You look an awful lot like someone I know, but you seem to be a bit more... what's the word, 'peculiar'?"

Detective Sherlock Holmes, at your service. Who might you be?

The Sherlock Holmes?

[Surprised, he studies the other. Well, he looks like him.]

Let me guess.

[A pause.]

It was much too cold for anyone to be out tonight. It was autumn, but a winter like frost had blanketed the streets and windows in ice. Even the hardy street children took shelter in the churches and any other places that provided a source of warmth.

A little girl breathed warm air onto her blue fingers, shivering violently in the cold with every step. She would slip on the ice and earn scrape after scrape on her hands and knees from the impact. Her eyes spotted one window that was still lit. Gathering her courage, she hurried in the direction of the light and hoped whoever lived there would provide shelter for the night.

Holmes was sitting by the fire, staring into the flame. It was a habit he had picked up a while ago; one could only guess when. The night was cold, but he was fortunate enough to have plenty of firewood and a comfortable place to stay. One could almost mistake that it was summer because of the comfortable temperature the place held.