HICKMAN GALLERY
Sherlock is standing in front of the Vermeer painting, looking up information on his phone. He calls up subjects such as "Vermeer brush strokes," "Pigment analysis," "Canvas degradation," "UV Light damage," "Delft Skyline, 1600," and "Vermeer influences."
John, Vaness, Lestrade and Miss Wenceslas are standing behind him.
"It's a fake. It has to be." Sherlock said.
"That painting has been subjected to every test known to science." Miss Wenceslas retorted.
"It's a very good fake, then." Sherlock said.
He spins around and glares at her.
"You know about this, don't you? This is you, isn't it?" He said glaring.
Miss Wenceslas turns to Lestrade, looking exasperated. "Inspector, my time is being wasted. Would you mind showing yourself and your friends out?"
The pink phone rings. Sherlock snatches it from his pocket and switches on the speaker.
"The painting is a fake." Sherlock stated.
There's a faint sound of breathing over the speaker but otherwise there is no response.
"It's a fake. That's why Woodbridge and Cairns were killed." Sherlock said to the phone.
Still there's nothing more than breathing.
"Oh, come on. Proving it's just the detail. The painting is a fake. I've solved it. I've figured it out. It's a fake! That's the answer. That's why they were killed."
When the phone remains silent, Sherlock takes a deep breath to calm himself.
"Okay, I'll prove it. Give me time. Will you give me time?" Sherlock asked hopefully.
After a moment, the tremulous voice of a very young boy comes over the phone's speaker.
"Ten ..."
Instantly Sherlock spins and looks closely at the painting.
"It's a kid. Oh, God, it's a kid!" Lestrade said shock.
"What did he say?" John asked.
"Ten." Sherlock muttered.
"Nine ..."
Vaness grabbed Sherlock's hand, getting his attention. Sherlock looked at her eyes. Suddenly there was a glint in his eyes.
"Jesus!" Lestrade said.
"Eight ..."
Sherlock's gaze falls on three tiny white dots of paint in the night sky. His mouth falls open as the penny finally drops.
He looked at Vaness again he smile at her.
"Seven..."
"In the planetarium! You heard it too. Oh, that is brilliant! That is gorgeous!" Sherlock said.
Turning and shoving the pink phone into John's hands, he walks away from the painting, grinning as he pulls out his own phone from his pocket.
"Six..."
"What's brilliant? What is?" John asked.
Sherlock rapidly types "Astronomers" and "Supernovas" into his phone, then turns back and walks towards the others, laughing in delight.
"This is beautiful. I love this!" Sherlock said loudly.
"Five..."
"Sherlock!" Lestrade yelled angrily.
Sherlock grabs the pink phone from John and yells into it.
"The Van Buren Supernova!" He stated.
There's a short pause, then the boy's plaintive voice comes from the speaker.
"Please. Is somebody there?" The boy asked scared.
Sherlock sighs out a relieved breath.
"Somebody help me!" The boys yelled now frightened.
"There you go. Go find out where he is and pick him up." Sherlock said turning and handing the phone to Lestrade
He gives Vaness a thankful and happy look, walking towards her, as she was standing beside the painting, and held her hand.
"The Van Buren Supernova, so-called..." He holds up his phone over his shoulder so that Miss Wenceslas can see the screen. "...Exploding star, only appeared in the sky in eighteen fifty-eight."
He turns and throws her a triumphant look, then walks away, dragging Vaness. John drags in a relieved breath, then walks closer to look at the painting.
"So how could it have been painted in the sixteen forties?" John said smiling in relief.
He grins over his shoulder at Miss Wenceslas, then looks back to the picture again. His phone trills a text alert.
"Oh."
He digs out his phone, still breathing heavily, and looks at the message which reads:
My patience is
wearing thin.
Mycroft Holmes
He growls slightly, then looks up at the painting one last time.
"Oh Sherl..."
He switches off the phone and walks away. Miss Wenceslas stares at the painting in shock.
NEW SCOTLAND YARD.
Sherlock and Miss Wenceslas are sitting side by side in front of Lestrade's desk while the inspector sits in a chair to the side of the desk, Vaness was leaning on the arm of Sherlock's chair. Sherlock has his hands in the prayer position under his chin.
"You know, it's interesting. Bohemian stationery, an assassin named after a Prague legend, and you, Miss Wenceslas. This whole case has a distinctly Czech feeling about it. Is that where this leads?" Sherlock said.
She looks down and doesn't answer.
"What are we looking at, Inspector?" Sherlock asked Lestrade.
"Well, um, criminal conspiracy, fraud, accessory after the fact at the very least. Kidnapping..." Lestrade was saying.
"I didn't know anything about that! Please believe me." Miss Wenceslas interrupted, she was panicking.
As she continues to stare at Lestrade, Sherlock gives him a tiny nod to confirm that she's telling the truth.
"I just wanted my share - the thirty million." She continued.
She looks across to Sherlock, then sighs and lowers her head again.
"I found a little old man in Argentina. Genius. I mean, really: brushwork immaculate, could fool anyone." She told them.
"Hm!" Sherlock said sarcastically.
"Well, nearly anyone..." She turns back to Lestrade. "...But I didn't know how to go about convincing the world the picture was genuine. It was just an idea - a spark which he blew into a flame."
"Who?" Sherlock asked sharply.
"I don't know." She said.
Lestrade gives a disbelieving laugh.
"It's true! I mean, it took a long time, but eventually I was put in touch with people ... his people." She told them.
Sherlock slowly begins to sit up in his chair, his expression becoming more concentrated. Vaness stayed quiet.
"Well, there was never any real contact; just messages ... whispers." Miss Wenceslas said.
Sherlock leans closer to her, his face intense.
"And did those whispers have a name?" Sherlock asked.
She gazes ahead of herself for a moment, then looks across to Lestrade before nodding. She turns her head to Sherlock.
"Moriarty."
Slowly Sherlock sinks back in his chair. As Miss Wenceslas looks anxiously at Lestrade again, Sherlock gazes into the distance, his eyes full of thought. Eventually he raises his hands into the prayer position in front of his mouth, then grins.
BATTERSEA.
Sherlock and Vaness were at the train tracks, far from John, but heading there.
"How do you feel? Knowing it's Moriarty?" She asked.
"I knew from the start." Sherlock said.
"Really?" Vaness asked looking at him.
"When you said it was episode 3, I knew it would be him." Sherlock said.
"Right." Vaness looked forward, John was there. Squatting down beside the tracks, looking at the points thoughtfully.
"Points." Sherlock said shocking John.
"Yes!"
He springs to his feet and turns around to see Sherlock and Vaness standing nearby.
"Knew you'd get there eventually. West wasn't killed here; that's why there was so little blood." Sherlock said.
"How long have you been following me?" John asked.
"Since the start. You don't think I'd give up on a case like this just to spite my brother, do you?" Sherlock replied.
He turns and starts walking away with Vaness in hand.
"He was stalking you John." Vaness told him.
"Come on. Got a bit of burglary to do." Sherlock said not bothering to retort.
Shortly afterwards they are walking along a street.
"The missile defence plans haven't left the country, otherwise Mycroft's people would have heard about it. Despite what people think, we do still have a Secret Service." Sherlock said.
"Yeah, I know. I've met them." John replied.
"Which means whoever stole the memory stick can't sell it or doesn't know what to do with it. My money's on the latter. We're here." Sherlock told them.
"Where?" John asked.
"Joe Harrison's flat. Lucy's brother." Vaness answered.
Sherlock turns into the drive of a maisonette and trots up the steps at the side of the building which lead to the front door of flat 21A on the first floor. As he rummages in his pocket, John whispers to him urgently.
"Sherlock! What if there's someone in?" John said.
"There isn't." Sherlock replied.
He picks the lock and goes inside, Vaness followed.
"Jesus!" John said softly.
He hurries inside and shuts the door. Sherlock trots up the short flight of stairs ahead of him and walks into the living room.
Sherlock goes straight over to the window and pulls back the net curtain. He grins in satisfaction at the sight which greets him outside.
"That's why you were glaring at him." John said turning to Vaness.
"Was I?" She asked innocently.
Outside the window is a one-storey extension, the roof of which can be easily climbed onto from the window. The extension goes all the way to the bottom of the garden which ends in a wall, and directly on the other side of the wall is the railway line.
"Joe stole the memory stick; killed his prospective brother-in-law." Sherlock said.
Dropping to his knees, he gets out his magnifier and uses it to slowly examine the edge of the window sill. John walks across to him and peers over his shoulder as Sherlock finds some tiny blood-red spots on the white paint.
"Then why'd he do it?" John asked.
He straightens up and turns at the sound of someone unlocking the front door. Sherlock also stands.
"Let's ask him." Sherlock said quietly.
Reaching round to the back of his jeans, John walks quietly to the door of the living room as the front door slams. He steps out onto the landing just as Joe, wearing his courier gear, is leaning his bicycle against the wall. When he sees John he picks up the bike as if he intends to use it as a weapon or simply to throw it at him. John instantly raises his right hand and points his pistol at him.
"Don't." John said sternly.
For a moment Joe keeps coming but John shakes his head.
"Joe! Come in, we have lots to talk about." Vaness interrupted. Her tone was happy but her eyes were throwing daggers at Joe.
Joe stops and lowers the bike, sighing in fear.
Shortly afterwards he is sitting on the sofa while the boys stand nearby, Vaness standing directly infront of him. He is very distressed.
"It wasn't meant to ..." he said.
Sherlock looks away, exasperated.
"God." Joe rubs his hand over his face. "What's Lucy gonna say? Jesus."
He sinks back on the sofa.
"Why did you kill him?" John asked.
"It was an accident." He said.
Sherlock snorts.
"I swear it was." He said.
"But stealing the plans for the missile defence programme wasn't an accident, was it?" Sherlock said sternly.
"I started dealing drugs. I mean, the bike thing's a great cover, right? I dunno - I dunno how it started; I just got out of my depth. I owed people thousands - serious people. Then at Westie's engagement do, he starts talking about his job. I mean, usually he's so careful; but that night after a few pints he really opened up. He told me about these missile plans - beyond top secret. He showed me the memory stick; he waved it in front of me. You hear about these things getting lost, ending up on rubbish tips and what-not. And there it was, and I thought ... well, I thought it could be worth a fortune. It was pretty easy to get the thing off him, he was so plastered. Next time I saw him, I could tell by the look on his face that he knew." He told them the story.
Joe looks up guiltily at John.
"What happened?" John asked.
"I was gonna call an ambulance, but it was too late." Joe said.
"No." Vaness said. "You pushed him and he fell down the stairs, hitting his head, he was losing a lot of blood, you didn't feel his pulse and he wasn't waking up. That doesn't mean he was dead. He could've still survived. But no. It wasn't the accident that killed Andrew West. It was your stupidity. If you had called the ambulance immediately, he could've survive." Vaness took a deep breath to calm herself.
Sherlock reached for her hand and pulled her to his side.
"I just didn't have a clue what to do," Joe said weakly.
"What did you do?" John asked.
"I dragged him in 'ere, and I just sat in the dark, thinking." Joe said.
"When a neat little idea popped into your head." Sherlock said.
"Carrying Andrew West way away from here. His body would have gone on for ages if the train hadn't met a stretch of track that curved." Sherlock said looking out the window.
"D'you still have it, then? The memory stick?" John asked.
Joe nods.
"Fetch it for me - if you wouldn't mind." Sherlock said.
Sighing unhappily, Joe stands up and walks into another room. Sherlock walks closer to John, still holding Vaness' hand.
"Distraction over, the game continues." He said quietly.
"Well, maybe that's over, too. We've heard nothing from the bomber." John said hopefully.
"Five pips, remember, John? It's a countdown. We've only had four."
Vaness' phone rings its text alert. Sherlock and John look at her. She fished her phone from her pocket and reads the text.
Dr. Miche,
Emergency surgery
Ovariohysterectomy
Animal Shelter
Vaness frown, she looked at Sherlock and John.
"I need to go." She said.
STREET
She was already out of the cab when she noticed Jim Moriarty standing on the doors of the shelter. She acted oblivious.
She was walking towards him, -as far as he knows she has now reason to run- keeping a straight face.
She was about to walk past him when he covered her mouth with a cloth. Making her faint.
She woke up and Jim was there. As well as John. John was already wearing a jacket over the explosives. John looked at her, but he was dragged away to somewhere.
Vaness examined herself and didn't find anything she can see. You'd think she was safe except her back felt heavy, she realized that's where the explosives are.
"You'll only say and do what I tell you sweatie." Jim said placing an earpiece at her. "Or Sherlock dies."
She was dragged away by one of the thugs, telling her to stay where she was placed at.
A little later, she heard a door opening somewhere.
"Brought you a little getting-to-know-you present. Oh, that's what it's all been for, hasn't it? All your little puzzles; making me dance - all to distract me from this."
She faintly heard Sherlock's voice.
She heard another door opened and close, presumably, it was John.
"Evening." She heard John said. "This is a turn-up, isn't it, Sherlock?"
"John. What the hell ...?" Sherlock was asking John in the other side.
"Bet you never saw this coming." John replied.
Vaness tried to compose herself, everything will be fine, she told herself.
"What ... would you like me ... to make him say ... next?" John said.
"Gottle o' geer ... gottle o' geer ... gottle o' geer."
"Stop it." Sherlock said.
"Go on Vaness, enter." Moriarty said through the earpiece.
Vaness walked forward, and entered. Sherlock looked at her, shock and worried.
"Repeat what I will say next." Moriarty said, and she did so.
"Nice touch, this: the pool where little Carl died. I stopped him. I can stop John Watson too. Stop his heart." Vaness said, emotionless as she looked at Sherlock.
Sherlock didn't need to see the explosives to know that Vaness at also a hostage. He looked at her, examining if she was hurt in anyway.
"Who are you?" Sherlock asked, turning on the spot while he tries to look in all directions.
A door opens at the far end of the pool and a soft male voice with an Irish accent speaks from that direction.
"I gave you my number." Jim Moriarty said. "I thought you might call."
Sherlock turns towards the new arrival, who now slowly walks out into the open. It's Jim, Molly's boyfriend. But this isn't the fumble-fingered casually-dressed Londoner who did indeed leave his number for Sherlock in the lab at Bart's; this is a sharply-dressed man with immaculate hair and a murderous look on his face. With his hands in his pockets, he casually begins to stroll alongside the deep end of the pool, heading towards Sherlock, Vaness and John. All hint of plaintiveness has now gone from his voice.
"Is that a British Army Browning L9A1 in your pocket ..."
Sherlock reaches down to his trouser pocket and removes a pistol from it.
" ... or are you just pleased to see me?" Jim asked.
"Both." Sherlock answered raising the pistol and aiming it towards Jim.
Jim stops and looks back at him, unafraid.
"Jim Moriarty. Hi!" He said.
Sherlock tilts his head while he looks more closely at the man.
Jim acts as if he needs to remind Sherlock who he is.
"Jim? Jim from the hospital?"
He begins to walk alongside the deep end again. Sherlock brings up his other hand to support the one aiming the gun. Jim bites his lip as if disappointed.
"Oh. Did I really make such a fleeting impression? But then, I suppose, that was rather the point." Jim said.
He turns to face Sherlock just as the sniper's laser flickers over John's upper chest, and another on Vaness' Sherlock briefly turns his head towards them, a questioning look on his face.
"Don't be silly. Someone else is holding the rifle. I don't like getting my hands dirty." He said starting to walk again.
He reaches the corner of the pool and stops.
"I've given you a glimpse, Sherlock, just a teensy glimpse of what I've got going on out there in the big bad world. I'm a specialist, you see ..." Jim said.
He looks surprised, as if he has only just realised the connection.
" ... like you!"
"Dear Jim. Please will you fix it for me to get rid of my lover's nasty sister?" Sherlock said.
Starting to walk forward again, Jim grins.
"Dear Jim. Please will you fix it for me to disappear to South America?"
"Just so." Jim said as he stopped.
"Consulting criminal. Brilliant." Sherlock said the latter quietly.
"Isn't it? No-one ever gets to me - and no-one ever will." Jim said proudly.
"I did." Sherlock said.
" You've come the closest. Now you're in my way." Jim replied.
"Thank you." Sherlock said.
"Didn't mean it as a compliment." Jim said.
"Yes you did" Sherlock retorted.
"Yeah, okay, I did. But the flirting's over, Sherlock ... " His voice becomes high-pitched and sing-song. "...Daddy's had enough now!"
He again starts to stroll closer.
"I've shown you what I can do. I cut loose all those people, all those little problems, even thirty million quid just to get you to come out and play." He said, back to his normal tone.
John is starting to feel the strain and closes his eyes briefly. Vaness felt Moriarty near her back, she stiffened. Sherlock's eyes can't help but flicker across to John and Vaness a couple of times as he tries to keep his focus on the man approaching them.
"So take this as a friendly warning, my dear. Back off." Jim said.
He smiles.
"Although I have loved this - this little game of ours..."
He puts on his London accent for a moment. "...Playing Jim from I.T...."
He switches back to his Irish accent.
"...Playing gay. Did you like the little touch with the underwear?"
"People have died." Sherlock said softly.
"That's what people DO!"
He screams the last word furiously, his personality changing in an instant.
"I will stop you." Sherlock said.
"No you won't." Jim said calm again.
Sherlock looks across to John then to Vaness.
"You all right?" He asked them both.
John deliberately keeps his gaze away from his friend, presumably having been given instructions earlier about not talking to him.
Vaness didn't know what to say, one wrong move here and they're all dead.
Jim walks forward again and reaches John's side. "You can talk, Johnny-boy. Go ahead."
Refusing to specifically obey Jim's orders, John meets Sherlock's eyes and nods once. Sherlock turned to Vaness who also nodded once.
Sherlock takes one hand off the pistol and holds out the memory stick towards Jim.
"Take it." Sherlock said
"Huh? Oh! That!"
He strolls past John and reaches out for the stick, grinning.
"The missile plans!" He takes the stick from Sherlock's fingers and brings it to his mouth, kissing it.
Behind him, John is silently murmuring to himself, perhaps trying to keep himself focussed, perhaps winding himself up to take action, or maybe just expressing his surprise or disappointment that Sherlock lied to him about giving the plans to Mycroft. Jim lowers the memory stick and looks at it.
"Boring!" Jim said in a sing-song.
He shakes his head.
"I could have got them anywhere."
He nonchalantly tosses the stick into the pool. Seeing his opportunity, John races forward and slams himself against Jim's back, wrapping one arm around his neck and the other around his chest. Sherlock backs up a step in surprise but keeps the pistol raised and aimed at Jim.
"Sherlock, run!" John said.
Jim laughs in delight. "Good! Very good."
Sherlock doesn't move, still aiming his gun at Jim's head but now starting to look up a little anxiously, as if wondering what action the hidden sniper might take.
"If your sniper pulls that trigger, Mr Moriarty, then we both go up." John said savagely.
At the back, Vaness stayed still. She's through a lot, but never as a hostage.
"Isn't he sweet? I can see why you like having him around. But then people do get so sentimental about their pets." Jim said.
Grimacing angrily, John pulls him even closer onto the bomb which is now sandwiched between them. Jim scowls round at him.
"They're so touchingly loyal. But, oops!" He grins briefly at John, then looks towards Sherlock.
"You've rather shown your hand there, Doctor Watson." Jim told him.
He chuckles as a new laser point appears in the middle of Sherlock's forehead. John stares in horror as Jim looks round at him expectantly. Sherlock, either seeing the edge of the laser beam shining from the gallery or realising what's happening from John's expression, shakes his head slightly.
"Gotcha!" He said in sing-song.
He chuckles as John releases his grip on him and steps back, holding his hands up to signal to the sniper that he won't be trying anything else.
Jim glances round at him, then turns back towards Sherlock while brushing his hands down his suit to straighten it. He gestures to it indignantly.
"D'you know what happens if you don't leave me alone, Sherlock, to you?" Jim asked Sherlock.
"Oh, let me guess: I get killed." Sherlock answered boredly.
"Kill you?" He grimaces. "N-no, don't be obvious. I mean, I'm gonna kill you anyway some day. I don't wanna rush it, though. I'm saving it up for something special. No-no-no-no-no. If you don't stop prying, I'll burn you."
He runs his eyes briefly down Sherlock's body, then meets his eyes again and his voice becomes vicious.
"I'll burn the heart out of you." His face is a snarl as he says the word 'heart' but at the end of the sentence he looks almost regretful.
"I have been reliably informed that I don't have one." Sherlock said.
"But we both know that's not quite true. Right Vaness?!" Jim yelled.
He walked towards Vaness, "You're awfully quiet dear. But don't you agree that Sherlock has a heart?"
She didn't say a word.
Sherlock blinks involuntarily. Jim looks down, smiling, then shrugs.
"Well, I'd better be off." Jim said.
He nonchalantly looks around, perhaps checking his exit route, before turning back to Sherlock.
"Well, so nice to have had a proper chat." Jim said.
Sherlock raises the pistol higher and extends it closer to Jim's head.
"What if I was to shoot you now - right now?" Sherlock asked.
"Then you could cherish the look of surprise on my face." Jim replied completely unperturbed.
He opens his eyes and mouth wide, mimicking shock, then grins at Sherlock.
" 'Cause I'd be surprised, Sherlock; really I would."
He screws up his nose. "And just a teensy bit disappointed. And of course you wouldn't be able to cherish it for very long."
Slowly he begins to turn away.
"Ciao, Sherlock Holmes."
Looking back at Sherlock with some distaste, he walks calmly towards the side door through which John came earlier. Sherlock slowly steps forward to keep him in view.
"Catch ... you ... later."
The door opens and Jim's voice can be heard, high-pitched and sing-song.
"No you won't!"
The door closes. Sherlock doesn't move for a few seconds, his gun still aimed towards the door, then his gaze drifts across to John and he instantly bends, putting the pistol on the floor, then drops to his knees in front of John and starts unfastening the vest to which the bomb is attached. He then turned to Vaness, turning her around, ripping the back of her dress. He then gave her his coat.
"All right?" He asked both of them.
John and Vaness were not saying anything, they were catching their breath.
"Are you all right?" Sherlock asked again.
"Yeah-yeah, I'm fine." John said.
Sherlock turned back to John, helping him to pull off the jacket and the bomb vest.
"I'm fine." John repeated.
Sherlock, also breathing too fast, continues tugging at the jacket and vest.
Vaness was slumped on the floor. She was trying to calm down, because she knew Moriarty would be back.
"Sherlock."
Finally Sherlock manages to roughly strip the jacket and vest off John's arms.
"Sh-Sherlock!"
Sherlock bends and skims the items as far away along the floor as he can, while John staggers at the vehemence with which his friend just ripped them off him.
"Jesus." John said.
Sherlock pulled Vaness to her feet, he couldn't help so he hugged her.
John reaches up and pulls the earpiece from his ear, breathing heavily as delayed shock begins to hit him.
Sherlock turns and stares at him for a moment, then hurries back to pick up the pistol, leaving Vaness for a moment, before racing towards the door through which Moriarty left. John's knees buckle and he staggers towards the nearest support, the edge of one of the changing cubicles.
"Oh, Christ." John said.
He turns and drops down into a squat, bracing his back against the cubicle's edge while he blows out a long breath and tries to calm himself down.
Sherlock comes back in, having apparently seen no sign of Moriarty outside. He hugged Vaness again. "You should've called to make sure the text was real."
"Yes" was her only reply.
"Are you okay?" John asked breathlessly.
"Me? Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine. Fine." Sherlock said keeping Vaness close to him.
He turns to John, wide-eyed and breathless.
"That, er ... thing that you, er, that you did - that, um ... (he clears his throat) ... you offered to do. That was, um ... good." He said.
"I'm glad no-one saw that." John said, staring blankly ahead of himself.
"I did." Vaness said, smiling for the first time since.
"You don't count, Sherlock is still hugging you." John replied with a small smile.
"Hmm?" Sherlock asked, one arm still keeping Vaness close.
"You, ripping my clothes off in a darkened swimming pool. People might talk." John told him.
Sherlock shrugs.
"People do little else."
He looks down at John, then grins. John snorts laughter and then leans forward and prepares to stand up. But before he can move, the beam from a sniper's laser begins to dance over his chest. John looks down at it and his face fills with horror.
"Oh ..." John said in anguish.
A door near the deep end of the pool opens and Jim comes through, clapping his hands together and turning to face our heroes.
"Sorry! I'm soooooo changeable!"
John grimaces in disbelief. Sherlock keeps Vaness at his side.
It's becoming clear that there are quite a few because there are at least two laser points hovering over John, two on Vaness, and at least three more travelling over Sherlock's body. Jim laughs and spreads his arms wide.
"It is a weakness with me but, to be fair to myself, it is my only weakness." Jim said.
He lowers his hands and puts them in his pockets. Sherlock turns his head and looks down at John, who lifts his own head to meet his gaze.
"You can't be allowed to continue. You just can't. I would try to convince you but ..." he laughs and his voice becomes higher pitched again, "... everything I have to say has already crossed your mind!"
Sherlock, who had looked away from John for a moment, now turns and looks down at Vaness on his side, then back to John, his face showing no emotion but his eyes screaming a silent request. John responds instantly with a tiny nod, giving him full permission to do whatever he deems necessary.
"Probably my answer has crossed yours."
He raises the pistol and aims it at him. Jim smiles confidently with no fear in his expression. Slowly Sherlock lowers the pistol downwards until it's pointing directly at the bomb jacket. All four sets of eyes lock onto the jacket, John breathing heavily, Sherlock calm, and Vaness' eyeswere close as she was waiting for that song. Jim tilts his head, looking a little anxious for the first time. As Sherlock holds his hand steady, continuing to aim towards the jacket, Jim lifts his head and locks eyes with his nemesis. Sherlock gazes back at him and Jim begins to smile. Sherlock's eyes narrow slightly.
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And the fans screamssssss
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