Sherlock - The Game Is On!

The Empty Hearse- Finale

Chapter Twelve

John is stands in the tube carriage with his eyes closed and his head raised. He grips the handrail and lowers his head, blowing out a long breath. Sherlock cradles me close, crying softly. His head is lowered and the back of his hand is across his mouth while his body shakes with what seem to be sobs. John screws his eyes even more tightly closed. Sherlock lowers his hand and turns his head away, then turns back, hooting with laughter. I look up to Sherlock and John opens his eyes and looks across to him as Sherlock giggles in high-pitched hilarity.

Staring at him, John and I step and crawl forward and look down at the countdown clock on the mother bomb. It is repeatedly flicking back and forth between 1:28 and 1:29. John turns away as if he can't believe it. Whereas I clench my jaw. John turns back to look at the clock again and then stares upwards in disbelief. "You..." I turn to Sherlock and start slapping his chest. "You twat!"

Sherlock stands up, tears of mirth streaming down his cheeks. "Oh, your faces!"

"Utter..."

"Your face! I totally had you both."

"You cock! I knew it! I knew it! You f..."
"Fucking idiot."

I drew out simultaneously to John. "Oh, those things you said, such sweet things! I never knew you cared."

"I will kill you if you ever breathe a word of this."

"Scout's honour."

"To anyone. You KNEW! You knew how to turn it off!" I let the boys have their hot wired conversation whilst I sat back down, breathing heavily. "There's an Off switch. There's always an Off switch. Thought Michelle would of known that."

"Don't you dare, don't you dare put this on me!" I mumble. "Terrorists can get into all sorts of problems unless there's an Off switch."

"So why did you let us go through all that?"

"I didn't lie altogether. I've absolutely no idea how to turn any of these silly little lights off... Oh!" Sherlock crouches to me, lifting my head. "I hate you, Sherlock Holmes!"

"I love you too." He smiles before bringing me to a stand, hugging me close. "And you did call the police. I'm definitely gonna kill you."

"Oh, please! Killing me, that's so two years ago." Sherlock releases me, quirking a smile to the both of us. Despite himself, John lets out a silent laugh. Sherlock chuckles as he continues on, and John lets out an exasperated sigh. I breathe in deeply. "I hate you so much." I mumble. Sherlock huffs unappealingly before spinning me to him. "You really don't." Sherlock dismissed. "You wanna bet?" I state. Sherlock holds me close whilst he peppers my face with kisses. "Remember what happened the last time you said that?" He barely whispers. Of course! How can I forget. You went all caveman on me. "I love you." He mutters again. "I love you too." I sigh out.

We go back to Baker Street, not long after reporters and photographers mill around in the road. Over the phone can be heard the song 'Do you hear the people sing?' from 'Les Miserables.' Mycroft's voice comes over the phone, his tone desperate. "Sherlock, please. I beg of you. You can take over at the interval." We sat in our bedroom, getting ready. "Oh, I'm sorry, brother dear, but you made a promise. There's nothing I can do to help." I pop my last button on my silk shirt. "But you don't understand the pain of it, the horror!" Watching Sherlock grin through the mirror he ends the call.

"Come on. You'll have to go down. They want the story."

"In a minute." We walk into the living room, where Mary is sitting on the sofa holding a glass of champagne. Mar-Mar sits in the nearby chair with Bones by her side and Greg is sitting in John's chair, also holding a champagne glass. Sherlock pops the cork on a new bottle and walks across the room with the bottle and a glass, kneeling down beside the coffee table to pour. "Oh, I'm really pleased, Mary. Have you set a date?"

"Er, well we thought May."

"Oh! Spring wedding!"

"Yeah. Well, once we've actually got engaged." John agreed too. "We were interrupted last time." Mary and John look over to a innocent looking Sherlock. "Well, I can't wait." Greg spoke. Raising a toast, I speak: "Well, here's to the happy couple." Everyone clinks there glasses. "You will be there, Sherlock?"

"Weddings, not really my thing." Mary looks to me. "Oh he'll be there." I pat Sherlock's chest lightly. He grunts in disapproval. However, he looks across to Mary and winks at her. She smiles.

"Hello, everyone."

"Hey, Molly."

"This is Tom." She introduces. John and I stare at him. Crikey! "Tom, this is everyone."

"Hi." John and I continue to stare at him in surprise. He even has the scarf and collar turned up. "It's really nice to meet you all." He looks to me. "Hi." I smile and nod my head. "Wow. Yeah, hi. I'm John. Good to meet you." John shakes his hand.

"Ready?" Sherlock asks. Me and John nod. Tom turns to meet Sherlock, who smiles down at Greg as he walks past him, then catches sight of Tom for the first time. He stops dead and his eyes widen. "Champagne?"

"Yes." Sherlock's jaw drops open a little and he turns his eyes towards John and I. We grin back at him expectantly. Finally Sherlock holds out his hand to Tom, and they shake hands. Glancing down at Molly, Sherlock walks in between the couple and out of the door. Tom turns to watch him go. "Thanks."

We follow our favoured sociopath, who is looping his scarf around his neck. John points back towards the door. "Did you, er?"

"I'm not saying a word."

"Agreed." I nod. "No, best not." Sherlock glances down at how he's tied his scarf and throws his arms up exasperated. I walk over to him. "No one else can pull of the collar 'thing' better than yourself." He smiles and pecks my lips. "I'm still waiting. Why did they try and kill us? If they knew you were on to them, why go after us, put us in the bonfire?"

"I don't know. I don't like not knowing." We trot down the stairs. "Unlike the nicely embellished fictions on your blog, John, real life is rarely so neat." Stopping at the bottom of the staircase he turns back to us. "I don't know who was behind all this, but I will find out, I promise you both."

"Don't pretend you're not enjoying this."

"Hmm?"

"Being back. Being a hero again." I spoke up. "Oh, don't be stupid."

"Michelle's right. You'd have to be an idiot not to see it. You love it."

"Love what?"

"Being Sherlock Holmes."

"I don't even know what that's supposed to mean." He pivots away, putting his gloves on. "Sherlock, you are gonna tell me how you did it? How you jumped off that building and survived?"

"You know my methods, John. I am known to be indestructible."

"No, but seriously. When you were dead, I went to your grave."

"I should hope so."

"I made a little speech. I actually spoke to you."

"I know. I was there." Sherlock faces us. "I asked you for one more miracle. I asked you to stop being dead."

"I heard you. The both of you." John and Sherlock stare at each other for a few moments. I break the silence: "Gay." They snap out there gazes. "Anyway, time to go and be Sherlock Holmes." He smiles and starts towards the door, then hesitates for a moment and grimaces slightly before reaching to the coat rack. Taking both deerstalkers from their pegs, he puts his onto his head and tugs it into position before doing the same to me. "Let's do something exquisite." He mumbles. "Like what?"

Opening the door we walk forward towards the reporters. Sherlock turns to me, smiling. "How about this." Pulling me close, he dips me back before placing a passionate kiss to my lips. The reporters and the paparazzi go wild. John laughs in the background. Pulling my back up, I flush a deep red. The people gather round, taking photos, shouting questions and applauding. John closes the door and steps to Sherlock's side.

"The couple on Baker Street." The crowd chants.