(NOTE: I'd like to apologize for this now. Don't ask why. Just read it.)

(ANOTHER NOTE: This will not be the best grammatically correct or the greatest fanfic ever. It is just something for fun. Meaning that the next part will EVENTUALLY be up. When I get to writing it... ENJOY!)

Sherlock walked into the restaurant that he knew John would be in on this night. John was going to propose to his girlfriend, Mary. Even though it would mean showing John that he was alive after faking his death three long years ago, Sherlock had to stop John from making the biggest mistake of his life. He had though that faking his death would have kept John safe. Then again, even the great Sherlock Holmes was wrong from time to time.

A new threat had risen against Sherlock. One that caused John to be in extreme danger. Although, he had never admitted it to anyone, Sherlock loved John. He could not live without knowing that John was alive as well. This newest criminal mastermind had hired someone to get close to John. That person was the woman he was just about to propose to, Mary. Her real name was actually Beatrice Sarmoon. She was just an actress hired to "fall in love" with Dr. John Watson in his time of greatest need and vulnerability. When the time was right, she would kill him, thus causing Sherlock to lose everything he lived for.

Sherlock though about all of this as he made his way through the overcrowded room towards the table where his true love sat, about to make a terrible decision. Just as he saw the table clearly in front of him he realized he was too late. John had already asked his fateful question and the so called, "Mary" had said yes. There were two simple reasons he knew this. The first being that John was at ease. If he had not yet proposed, he would be clearly nervous. Sherlock also knew by the fake smile plastered on Beatrice's face.

You might wonder how Sherlock knew that her smile wasn't genuine. The answer to that question is simple. Long ago, when he was 25 years old and quite ignorant, Sherlock had loved the person with that smile. Unfortunately, she was acting in a role. Very much the same of what she was doing now. Sherlock grimaced at the sight of her. The betrayal from her is what made Sherlock so emotionless.

He almost ran away, but Sherlock regained his composure and walked up to the table to speak to his best friend. As he arrived John lifted his head and then his mouth fell open in awe. He tried to speak, but all he was capable of was opening and closing his mouth like a fish. A single tear traveled down his cheek as he stood up.

"Mary, this is my friend Sherlock Holmes. The one that was dead, but apparently faked his death. Do you mind if I go speak to him outside for a moment?" John said with his hands trembling. She nodded with a shocked face that Sherlock knew was not real. John then started walking towards the door and Sherlock followed. As soon as they were outside John did exactly what Sherlock had been steeling himself for. Punched him in the face. Hard.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" John exclaimed so loudly that people began to stare.

"If you'd just let me explain, John." Sherlock stated calmly.

"Please do!" John yelled seething with rage.

"Well, for one the angle of my tra-" Sherlock began before John interrupted.

"I don't want to know how! I want to know why."

Sherlock shook his head and started to drag John towards a waiting cab. John dug his heels into the sidewalk in an attempt to pull away from Sherlock. He managed to free his wrist with a huff.

"What are you doing? First, my fiance is sitting in that restaurant waiting for me to come back! And second, I'm not going with you anywhere until you tell me why!" John took a step back, crossed his arms and waited for an answer.

"You're in danger. You must come with me, John!"

"Absolutely not." He replied, a defiant look in his eyes.

"But, don't you miss the thrill of the chase? The blood pumping through your veins? Just the two of us against the rest of the world!" Sherlock exclaimed, beginning to become exasperated with the way the night was playing out.

"No. Sherlock, I've moved on in my life. If you won't at least tell me why, maybe you should too." John stated in a calm voice. He turned around and walked back into the restaurant. Sherlock stood alone in the street wondering if he had just lost his best friend forever.

The person looked up from the wet page, their eyes blurry from the tears going down their face.

END PART 1