Of course what she had expected to happen, did. Another letter arrived in the mail, another confusing clash of emotions on Sherlock’s face. Though, she suspected he would bury them in another woman. Seeing the ‘coitus in progress’ sign on his door seemed a more frequent occurrence these days. No doubt it would increase with the arrival of these letters.

The letter went ignored again, until they made the arrest of Iris Lanzer’s lawyer. Between that case and her finding the homeless man, she hadn’t had the time to even think of reading Moriarty’s letter.

Not that she wanted to.

The elegant handwriting seemed to have more of pull to it than the previous letter, as if Joan’s curiosity was getting the better of her.

It was. It most definitely was.

She wrote quicker this time, writing as she read, and her handwriting came out sloppier, angrier.

            Moriarty,

                        If this is your way of saying that you’ll go about setting up an elaborate string of murders to capture our attention, you’re not quite as intelligent as you think you are.

                        Threatening anything is the absolute worst way to go about trying to get me to cooperate with you.

                        Complimenting me, however backhanded, won’t work either.

                        As you’re probably aware by now, Sherlock has been reading your letters. He did not know I replied, but thanks to you, he does now.

                        I assume this was part of your plan? To hurt him, of course. To drive us apart.

                        I’m aware you give off an air of not caring about any person, but you and I, and Sherlock, all know the truth. Otherwise our last meeting would have never happened. Consider his feelings in this.

                        Refrain from contacting me again.