Sherlock - The Game Is On!

The Lying Detective- Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Third POV

Sherlock turns to face him. Smith stops a few feet away. A cameraman and another man hurry around behind our boys so that they can film Smith from the front. "I don't do handshakes." He starts to walk towards Sherlock again. "It'll have to be a hug."

"I know." Reporters holding notebooks gather around them. Chuckling, Smith reaches out and hugs him. Sherlock leans down into the man's embrace. Resting his head on Sherlock's shoulder, Smith pats his back. "Oh, Sherlock." Over his shoulder, Sherlock frowns. "Oh, Sherlock!" Releasing him, he steps back. "What can I say? Thanks to you..." He turns to his entourage. "We're, uh, we're everywhere!"

"Mr Holmes, how did Culverton talk you into this?" A reporter asks, recorder in hand. "Well, he-he's a detective." Smith fakes a startled look. "Maybe I just confessed!" The reporters and Smith laugh. He looks at Sherlock and beckons him towards the building. "Come on."

Starting to follow him, Sherlock turns and throws a significant, pleading, look to John and Mary, who follow him. Molly watches them go, looking worried.

"Now, it's a... It's a new kind of breakfast cereal."

"Mr Holmes, can you put on the hat?" Another reporter asks. "Yeah, he doesn't really wear the hat." John dismissed. "Kids will be getting two of their five-a-day before they've even left home!" Smith leads the crowd into the building and stops to take a notebook from a woman and sign his name in it. Cornelia walks alongside John and Mary. "Sherlock's been amazing for us." She states.

Handing the notebook back to the woman as she smiles, Smith continues onwards with the others. "Breakfast has got to be cool." He talks to the reporters. "We're beyond viral." Cornelia states. "And you know what makes it cool when you're a kid?" Smith carries on. "What, sorry? Beyond what?"

"Dangerous."

Not long afterwards, Smith is behind the breakfast bar, smiling to one of the cameras. "Set; And action!"

"I'm a killer." Sherlock stands several feet away with his hands in his pockets, watching him. John has turned to one side with his back to Sherlock, watching the filming on one of the nearby TV screens. Mary sneaks her hand in John's, squeezing it every so often.

"You know I'm a killer." He smiles into the camera, then turns to the one on his right and looks into that. "But did you know..." He turns back to the front camera, picks up the bowl and holds it up. "I'm a cereal killer?!" To his right, behind the repaired light on its stand, is a large poster advertising the new breakfast cereal. On it, Smith is smiling into the camera and the words: 'I'm a CEREAL KILLER!' are to the left of his head.

Sherlock chuckles slightly, his gaze intense. Smith takes a large mouthful of cereal and chews on it. He makes an appreciative noise. Straightening up, Smith gestures towards the director. "And cut there. Thank you." Smith puts down the bowl, claps his hands together a couple of times and gestures to a young woman who hurries over to him.

She is wearing a headset and carrying a black plastic bin with a white bin liner inside. Smith leans down to the bin and spits the cereal into it. Spitting, he straightens and looks at the woman. "We should bag that up, sell it." He spits a last bit of cereal into the bin. "Make money for that on eBay." She chuckles nervously. He looks up at her again and nods towards the bin. "I could make more if you like. Any time you like." He whispers flirtatiously. The woman's smile becomes rather fixed and she turns and walks away. He straightens up and grimly watches her go.

Mary turns to Sherlock. "Has it occurred to you, anywhere in your drugged up brain that you've just been played?"

"Oh, yes."

"For an ad campaign." John adds. "Brilliant, isn't it?"

"Brilliant?" John questions. Sherlock stares towards Smith. "Safest place to hide."

At the table, Smith picks at a bit of cereal from his teeth while a wardrobe mistress adjusts his shirt and a make up artist strokes a brush through her tin of powder. "Plain sight."

"Mr Holmes? Culverton wants to know if you're okay going straight to the hospital."

"Hospital?"

"Culverton's doing a visit. The kids would love to meet you both. I think he sort of promised."

"Oh, okay." Sherlock responds, his voice wavering slightly by the idea of children. He had a child. Twins to be precise. He walks away and his hand clasps onto the two bottled chains around his neck. John looks at him, startled. Cornelia gestures to the doctor and his wife. "If you'd just like to come this way."They walk away. Smith watches them go, his face serious.

Shortly afterwards, John gets into the right-hand side of the limousine with Mary sat in the middle. Sherlock is already sitting on the other side, typing on a phone. "So... What are we doing here? What's the point?"

"I needed a hug." Mary shows a ghost form of a sad smile.

Smith comes to John's side of the car and knocks on the window. John presses the button to lower it. Smith bends down and looks in. "What do you think, Mr Holmes? 'Cereal' killer."

"It's funny because it's true!"

"See you at the hospital." He straightens up and starts to walk away. "Oh, you can have this back now." Smith stops. The sound of a message being sent from the phone was heard. Sherlock lowers it to his lap and tries to look nonchalant while John frowns round at him. Smith turns and walks back to the window. "Have what back?"

"Thanks for the hug." He bends over Mary and John, dropping the phone in Smith's hand. "Oh, I sent and deleted a text. You might get a reply but I doubt it." Sherlock settles back into his seat. Smiling, Smith tucks his phone into his inside jacket pocket. "It's password protected."

"Please!" Smith chuckles. "We're going to have endless fun, Mr Holmes, aren't we?"

"Oh no. No, not endless." Smith begins to walk away again only to appear of forgotten to say something. "Oh Mr Holmes, by the way, I've returned the favour."

"Favour?" Now it was Sherlock's turn to frown with uncertainty. "Well, I had to find some way to show my appreciation from making viral news on Twitter. Lady Phillips has been moved from Bart's hospital to mine. She will receive the best of care." Sherlock's glare becomes sharp and his nostrils flare with hidden fury.

Smiling, Smith walks away. Sherlock looks at him grimly for a moment, then turns away. John and Mary glance towards him as Sherlock sighs silently, hugging himself. "Need another hit, do you?"

"I can wait until the hospital. The sooner the better!" John turns his head away, shaking it slightly, and closes the window. Mary links her arm through Sherlock's and lays her head on his shoulder. Sherlock lays his head back and closes his eyes.