"What you’re about to see is classified beyond top secret." Mycroft said, as you look in a video screen that is showing four perspectives of the scene on the patio at Appledore shortly before you and Sherlock shot Charles Magnussen.
You and Sherlock where now in a room together with Lady Smallwood, Lady Smallwood's secretary, Sir Edwin and Mycroft, three days after Moriarty's face hack every tv in England and eleven days since the Magnussen incident.
Beside Mycroft, you and Sherlock were sitting on a chair facing the table where Lady Smallwood and Sir Edwin is sitting. "Is that quite clear? Don’t minute any of this. Once beyond these walls, you must never speak of it. A D-notice has been slapped on the entire incident. Only those within this room – code names Antarctica, Langdale, Porlock and Love – will ever know the whole truth."
You heard a rapid quiet clicking beside you, so you look at Sherlock and sees that he's typing in his phone.
"As far as everyone else is concerned, going to the Prime Minister and way beyond, Charles Augustus ... Are you tweeting?!" Mycroft suddenly said, glaring down at Sherlock.
Sherlock looks up guiltily and covers his phone even as the sound of a tweet being sent can be heard.
"No." Sherlock answered.
You looks at two men and chuckle.
"Well, that’s what it looks like." Mycroft said, exasperated.
"Of course I’m not tweeting. Why would I be tweeting?" Sherlock said.
"Give me that." Mycroft said, who quickly walks across to his brother and reaches for the phone.
"What? No. Get off. What are you doing?" Sherlock tries to hang on to the phone with both hands while Mycroft struggles to get hold of it. "Get off. What ...?"
"Give it here." Mycroft finally pulls the phone from Sherlock’s hands and looks at the it. "Back on terra firma." Mycroft said as he read Sherlock's tweet.
Sherlock covers his face as he rolls his eyes, "Don’t read them out."
"Free as a bird." Mycroft continues.
"God, you’re such a spoilsport."
"Will you take this matter seriously, Sherlock?" Mycroft asked, angrily.
"I am taking it seriously." Sherlock said as he looks in his brother, "What makes you think I’m not taking it seriously?"
"Hashtag OhWhatABeautifulMorning." Mycroft read from the phone.
"Look, not so long ago we we're on a mission that meant certain death – our death – and now we're back, in a nice warm office with my big brother and ... Are those ginger nuts?" Sherlock explained and looks excitedly at a plate on the table when he sees it and springs to his feet to walk over there.
"Oh, God." You sigh.
"(y/n), look! Ginger nuts." He said to you while he grabs a handful of the biscuits from the plate.
"Our doctor said you two were clean." Lady Smallwood said, looking at you then to Sherlock.
"I- I am, ma'am." You said.
"I am, utterly." Sherlock said as he turns and looks at Mycroft and walk back beside your chair. "No need for stimulants now, remember? I have work to do." He said, crunching into one of the biscuits.
"You’re high as a kite!" Sir Edwin exclaimed.
Sherlock turns to him, "Natural high, I assure you. Totally natural. I’m just-" he sings dramatically while holding his hands out "-glad to be aliiiiiive!" Sherlock chuckles and lowers his hands, still chomping on his mouthful of biscuit. "What shall we do next? What’s your name?" He asked the elderly woman beside Lady Smallwood.
"Vi-Vivian." She nervously answered.
"What would you do, Vivian?"
You don't know what happened but Sherlock seems to be very happy and you can't help but hide yourself because of embarrassment.
"Pardon?" Vivian said.
"Well, it’s a lovely day. Go for a stroll?"
Lady Smallwood frowns at him and shakes her head in disbelief. Sir Edwin puts his hand over his face.
"Make a paper aeroplane? Have an ice lolly?" Sherlock continues.
"Ice lolly, I suppose." Vivian answers.
"Ice lolly it is! What’s your favourite?" Sherlock said, guesturing dramatically.
Looking a little nervous towards her superiors, she said "Well, really, I shouldn’t ..."
"Go on." Sherlock encouragingly said to her.
"Do they still do Mivvis?"
"Mr. Holmes." Lady Smallwood called.
Mycroft and Sherlock answered in unison, "Yes?"
"We do need to get on."
"Yes, of course." Mycroft said. He uses the remote control he is holding to restart the video footage.
You watch the video and you heard the sound of the helicopter hovering in front of the Appledore patio.
Sherlock swipes his phone from Mycroft and gestures dramatically with it at his brother before he sits down on the chair again while tucking the phone into the inside pocket of his jacket.
"You're such a child, Sherlock." You said to him, he looks at you with frowning eyebrows, "but it's cute." You added, then you wink on him and he just chuckled.
The both of you turned your head toward the screen showing the edited video of you and Sherlock's show at Magnussen's place.
The video shows completely different from what happened, it plays there that you and Sherlock did not shot Magnussen.
"Hmmm, I see. Who is supposed to have shot him, then?" You asked.
"Some over-eager squaddie with an itchy trigger finger, that’s who." Sir Edwin answered you and you just nodded.
"That’s not what happened at all." Sherlock said.
"It is now." Mycroft said.
"Remarkable. How did you do it?" Lady Smallwood asked.
"We have some very talented people working here. If James Moriarty can hack every TV screen in the land, rest assured we have the tech to, er ... doctor a bit of security footage. That is now the official version; the version anyone we want to will see." Sir Edwin replied.
"No need to go to the trouble of getting some sort of official pardon. Both of you were off the hook, home and dry." Lady Smallwood said, looking at you firmly.
"Okay, cheers." Sherlock said, putting the last bit of biscuit in his mouth and holding it between his lips, he jumps up and starts to button his jacket, then reaches for his great coat.
"Obviously there’s unfinished business. Moriarty." Sir Edwin said.
"I told you. Moriarty’s dead."
"You say he filmed that video message before he died."
"Yes." He said, putting his one arm in his coat.
"You also say you know what he’s going to do next. What does that mean?" Lady Smallwood asked again.
"Perhaps that’s all there is to it." Sir Edwin said, pointing you and Sherlock. "Perhaps he was just trying to frighten you."
"No, sir. He would never be that disappointing. He’s planned something; something long-term; something that would take effect if he never made it off that rooftop alive." You said.
"Posthumous revenge. No – better than that. Posthumous game." Sherlock added.
"We brought you two back to deal with this. What are you going to do?" Lady Smallwood asked.
"Wait." You and Sherlock answered in unison.
"Wait?!"
"Of course wait. We're the targets. Targets wait. Look – whatever’s coming, whatever he’s lined up, we'll know when it begins." He walks towards the door while putting his other arm into his coat. "Me and (y/n) always know when the game is on. D’you know why?"
"Why?" Lady Smallwood asked in exasperated tone.
"Because we love it."