The frost giants of Thrymheim and the Gods of Asgard. I've had a number of rather fruitful discussions over the veracity of these Gods, ones that you wouldn't normally have when they're no more than a mere text message away. [It's much, much easier to launch into that explanation than to focus on the matter of Moriarty. In fact, he only gave an assenting nod. Some part of him hopes to have her involvement and insight. More importantly, he hopes to have her clarity, which Sherlock knows he lacks.

After all, though she claims to be from the future, he wants to know more. She drops hints often enough, but some part of him dislikes it. It's either his vanity, or something more.

(It's the lack of control. The very conceptualization that he is one step behind. Sherlock loathes it greatly.)]

I've even been to a battle already. It wasn't an experience I'd soon repeat. [But he has a feeling he will. Of course he will.]