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It's been two weeks since Sherlock proposed. Of course I said yes, but only after many hours of harassing him to make sure he's marrying me for the right reasons. Love... not because I'm pregnant.
Despite being blissfully in love with my fiancé I couldn't help but notice just how strange he had started acting. He's completely and utterly obsessed with the package he recived at Christmas, Irene Adler's phone. He thinks she's dead, but secretly I know she's far from it. I like to think I had a little part in her 'death', I've never really liked her.
Two hours ago he left the house to follow a very suspicious looking John. Meanwhile, I sat on the old armchair waiting patiently for Mrs Hudson to bring in tea, only to be very rudely interrupted by three Americans holding guns.
"Afternoon Gentlemen." The ring leader a bald looking man whom I instantly recognised as Neilson a member of the CIA roughly dragged a screaming Mrs. Hudson into the room, tying her up much to my protest. She starts crying whilst secretly passing the picture phone towards me which I hide in the most secret place I can think of. Quickly they drag her forcefully away.
"Get your hands of my housekeeper." They chuckle deeply, eerily and without remorse. Mrs. Hudson whimpers in pain and I growl at them anger oozing out of the noise.
"I'm your land lady dearest." I groan at Mrs Hudson despite agreeing with her.
"Not the time Mrs. H." Whilst I was momentarily distracted two large hands gripped my wrists and violently throw me onto a chair tying me beside Mrs Hudson.
For the next two hours they hit me leaving red marks against my cheeks, intent on finding out where Locky hid the phone. When they attempted to look for the phone under my attire I instantly protested so much that they left me alone for a few minutes, more than enough time.
The familiar footsteps creeping up the stairs comfort me. I turn to a teary eyed Mrs Hudson flashing her a warm smile. She calms down slightly making me chuckle. But then Neilson pulls out his gun leaning it directly against my head. I tense as Sherlock walks into the room. Mrs Hudson then begins to cry louder.
"Oh, Sherlock, Sherlock!" Her cries echo throughout the room and I feel slightly sorry for her. Sherlock on the other hand does not.
"Don't snivel, Mrs Hudson. It'll do nothing to impede the flight of a bullet."
He then turns to Neilson anger flashing in his eyes. "What a tender world that would be."
Mrs Hudson carries on sobbing quietly as she gazes up at him. "Oh, please, sorry, Sherlock."
Everyone ignores her, both Neilson and my eyes trained on Sherlock while his trained on both mine and Neilson's.
"I believe you have something that we want, Mr Holmes."
"Then why don't you ask for it?"
He walks closer and holds out his right hand towards Mrs Hudson. She flails towards it, whimpering, and he gently turns back the sleeve of her right hand and looks at the bruises on it.
"Sher..."
Neilson roughly grabs hold of my hair and i wince in pain. "I've been asking this one. She doesn't seem to know anything. "
Sherlock's gaze rises a little and he sees that the right shoulder of my cardigan has been ripped at the seam, exposing some of my skin underneath.
"But you know what I'm asking for, don't you, Mr Holmes?"
Sherlock looks a little higher and sees a cut on my right cheek. His eyes then flicker across to Neilson's right hand holding the pistol. He has a silver ring on his third finger and there is blood on it but it's not his. Sherlock raises his head and looks directly at Neilson – but I realise he isn't deducing him. In very rapid succession he is picking out target points on his body; carotid artery, skull, eyes. His gaze then falls down to Neilson's arms and chest; artery, lungs, ribs.
He raises his eyes to Neilson's again.
"I believe I do. "
Mrs Hudson whimpers as he releases her hands and straightens up, putting his hands behind his back.
"Oh, please, Sherlock. " Mrs Hudson carries on her whining.
Sherlock turns menacingly to Neilson's. "First, get rid of your boys."
"Why?"
"I dislike being outnumbered. It makes for too much stupid in the room." Sherlock and I share a look as Neilson hesitates for a moment, then glances at his colleagues.
"You two, go to the car."
"Then get into the car and drive away." His eyes meet Neilson's "Don't try to trick me. You know who I am. It doesn't work."
He loudly clicks the 'k' of 'work.' The author faints. Then I watch as the two men leave the room and head down the stairs.
"Next, you can stop pointing that gun at her."
"So you can point a gun at me?"
Sherlock steps back spreading his arms wide. "I'm unarmed."
"Mind if I check?"
"Oh, I insist."
Neilson comes around from behind Mrs Hudson as she whimpers nervously.
I whisper to her quietly a warning " Don't do anything."
I then turn my head as Neilson walks over to Sherlock and pats his breast pocket, he flicks the coat open while Sherlock stands meekly with his arms still spread. Walking around behind him, Neilson starts patting for any hidden weapon at his back. Sherlock rolls his eyes dramatically at me, but he is already covertly starting to bend his right arm towards himself. So fast that I absolutely can't tell where it came from, he whips out a sanitizer spray can, twists around and sprays the contents directly into Neilson's eyes. As Neilson screams, Sherlock rears back and then savagely headbutts him in the face. Neilson falls back onto the coffee table, unconscious, and Sherlock triumphantly flips the can into the air.
"Moran." I mutter under my breath. Sherlock goes to untie Mrs Hudson and then me and I fall limply against his chest. At some point John enters taking Mrs Hudson downstairs to calm her down. Sherlock and I stay where we are for a few more minutes, I clutch onto him terrified of the weakness I feel deep inside. I need him to keep me strong. He carries me downstairs and places me on a chair next to Mrs Hudson.
After the cup of tea I've been waiting so long for I feel back to my old self. Somehow I realise that Neilson is not going to be in a very good shape, after I hear him falling time and time again.
Sherlock finally enters the kitchen and wraps an arm around my waist.
"I think it would be a good idea if Addy and Mrs Hudson spend some time away from Baker Street, especially with the baby on its way." I chuckle slightly at Johns stupidity.
"Don't be absurd. "
Look at her, she's in shock, for God's sake, and all over some bloody stupid camera phone. Where is it, anyway?"
"Safest place I know." Sherlock nudges me and I reach inside my bra. I hand it to him whilst John looks on in disbelief.
"You left it in the pocket of your second-best dressing gown, you clot". I laugh briefly smiling up at him. "Mrs Hudson managed to sneak it out when they thought she was having a cry."
He kisses my cheek softly. "Thank you."
"Shame on you, John Watson."
"Shame on me?!"
" Addy and Mrs Hudson leave Baker Street?"
He puts a protective arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer to him.
"England would fall."
Mrs Hudson laughs and strokes his hand. He chuckles gently. Whilst John and i smile up at them both.
After Lestrade and an ambulance for Neilson finally leaves, Sherlock and I instantly head up to bed. I crawl in straight away, completely exhausted and Sherlock joins me a few minutes later.
I rest my head against his chest and entangle our legs as he strokes my hair delicately. "I'm so sorry Addy. I should have been there." I stop him from talking with a small kiss. Rejoicing in the simplest of embraces.
"I'm fine. Scared but I'm fine." He cups my head in his hands, stroking my bruised cheeks slowly.
"I love you so much Addy."
"I love you too Sherlock."
It's not long before I drift off contently to sleep, but not before I hear Sherlock murmuring lullaby like words into my ear.
"You 're alright now. You 're alright."