Watson stopped short, looking over at Holmes with an eyebrow raised. He'd very nearly forgotten that incident -- sadly, being shot at was nothing terribly remarkable for him -- and he put a hand to his arm, to the second scar there.

"A warning," he repeated, thoughtful. If the shot that had hit him was meant as a warning and not an honest assassination, then he could well believe the man was a phenomenal shot.

There was less anger in his voice when he spoke again; having assembled the bits of costume, he turned to Holmes with his arms outstretched expectantly. "Well? How do I look? Convincing, I hope."