The broken Doctor.
The Masked Murderer
"What the hell are you doing Sherlock!" John's voice was horrified and shocked, the friend he had grown so attached to had just… well… They were friends yes, but never did they have such physical contact, John was just glad no one was around to see that. Sherlock's arms dropped from John's hips and he frowned, perplexed by the situation.
"Hmmm" That was not the reply John had wanted, he stared at the tall slender man for a moment wanting some form of explanation, not simply Sherlock sitting back down pulling out a laptop. That was hardly helpful.
"What the hell was that?..."
"What was what?"
"Don't play dumb with me Sherlock…."
"Well if you had of been paying attention to the case you would have known why, no wonder your losing views on your blog" With that, Sherlock snapped his laptop down looking at John as he stood between the living room and kitchen.
"How the hell does a case where victims get thrown from a boat have anything to do with you bloody groping me by the kitchen table"
"It was hardly a grope, and do keep up John, each of the bodies had the same bruising on his hips, finger marks, strong fingers, male fingers, but that was it. No bruising anywhere else, so how did they get on the boat? They went with the murderer without hesitation, look at the angle of the bruising the murderer was tall and positioned behind the men, the bruising was there before they died, he was having sex with them over the boat, all straight males with children, that's how he gets his jollies. Seducing straight men…"
"Then why touch me?"
"height comparison, he would be at least an inch shorter then I am, and hes right handed…"
"Don't touch me again Sherlock its just weird…"
"Science John, its what assistants do"
John grumbled walking out, Sherlock continued looking at the wall, a hint of a smirk edging at the corners of his mouth, finding himself rather amusing.
John looked at the women sitting across the table from him, how she looked out into the night and mindlessly stirred her cocktail, the evening had been filled of boring chatter, she told him how she had been married briefly to an actor or duke or something, but now intended on opening her own fashion line, he had pretended to find that interesting and offered her empty reinforcement.
When she asked about his life, she was not impressed by the old army doctor story, but when she found out he was the John Watson from the ever so famous blog she was a little more willing to accept that second drink, so John kept her interest by telling her all about his life with the amazing Sherlock Holmes.
The night went wonderfully from there, she took ever drink he offered her and drunk them down swiftly, John couldn't help but take that as a mixed signal, but he let his worry subside and excitement take over, she was beautiful and the conversation just flowed perfectly. At least that's what he thought.
"I think you've had a bit to drink, how about I take you home…" John flashed a smile that only a doctor could have mastered. She laughed and finally shook her head. That was unexpected.
"Ah honey, ill catch a cab"
"Its no problem at all, but how about your number then, we can have dinner"
"Your sweet John, I like you but… I don't think your partner would be very happy about it"
"There is no partner, its just me"
"Sweet heart, you spent the entire night talking about another man…not just mentioning him, idolizing him, you even said he made your life livable…. There is no way some girl you met at a bar can compete with that" She stood up clutching her handbag, her beautiful blonde hair falling over her perfectly shaped breasts.
"Im not gay.." John couldn't even remember her name anymore, the site of her slender perfect body had that effect on a lot of men.
"It doesn't even matter, I thought your blog was just about him being interesting but its so much more then that isnt it, he really did save you. You shouldn't be trying to pick up random women at a bar when you could go home, to the man that you talk about all the time…" She didn't mean to sound rude, it was the alcohol talking, she seemed to be handling it well.
"Im sorry, let me try again I promise im not … we aren't…" He looked at her helplessly, she sighed leaning down to kiss him on the cheek, before walking off. What a waste of a night and a lot of money on drinks.
"Ah, John finally Lestrade called, we've got another murder case, don't worry I wont be touching you for this one" John looked at Sherlock with a raised eyebrow and an annoyed look, Sherlock picked up on the look and simply slipped his scarf around his neck and headed for the door.
"You can handle it without me"
"What?"
"You heard me, you handled it fine without an assistant before you can handle it again"
"John you know your more than my assistant"
"I don't want to be more! Everyone always thinks im more! IM NOT!"
"John…" The look on Sherlock's face made him queasy, it was a mixture of confusion and pain, pain that he would have normally hid.
"Don't John me, Sherlock. Just don't." Sherlock opened his mouth to reply but just closed it, unable to say anything, he slipped the door open and walked out of the apartment, John walked to the window and watched as he walked down Baker street before hailing a cab.
A sudden pang of guilt ran through John's body, as he watched the cab drive off. Regret filled him and he sank to the ground running his hand through his hair, he knew he had over reacted it was completely uncalled for, his friendship with Sherlock meant the world to him but that was the problem, his friendship with this man meant more to him than any other relationship he had, and that scared the hell out of him.
The body of politician James Micheals was strung up of his hotel room, the room had been sectioned off by police tap and the hotel closed pending investigation, the body found only hours before had not be touched, so Sherlock could see it to make his deductions. He walked in and under the tape as if it were meaningless, and to him it always had been. He was an invited guest, they needed him.
"What have we got?" Sherlock asked, though he knew he could figure out what took them hours in just a few moments.
"He was hung up, he was wearing this" Lestrade held out a clear bag with a silver, diamond studded mask.
"Just like the other two…"
"Someone is killing the biggest names in London, Sherlock ill take whatever you give me." Sherlock looked at the body from under him for an extended period of time, then the ground around him, to the window, then finally up the step ladder to look at the noose. He had only seen pictures of the other two crime scenes so his deductions were inconclusive, tonight though with such a fresh scene he was able to see it all.
Sherlock's mind worked in over time, as if today he had something to prove. Perhaps it was to help Lestrade catch his Murderer, perhaps it was to prove he didn't need John. But whatever the cause, he was incredible.
"The key is the mask, but what else have we got" Sherlock mused to himself, spining around under the stung up man, "Foot prints here, looking at the size I'd sa-"
"It's a size Nine in male, clearly" Sherlock looked up annoyed by the sound of Andersons smug voice.
"Oh yes, your right the shoe is a size nine male…. But the person wearing the shoe is a size seven female, wearing shoes far to big for her, Her you wonder? Well there is lipstick on his cheek, there was traces of red on the other two, but it was put down to bruising, was that your genius work there Anderson? But she isnt alone, oh no, she has an accomplice"
"There are no other foot prints"
"Right and your suggesting a girl with a size seven shoe could string up a male this big without help? Really Anderson think! Even you cant be that stupid"
"Now hold on a minute-"
"The mask, they all wore the mask, why…. Why are they wearing the mask you might ask, well I've got the answer, the charity ball in London in four nights time, masquerade ball… Each mask was real silver with real diamonds. Your murderer is a guest and she will be there, I suggest you get an invite"
"How do you know she will be there?... and no one can get into that, only private security" Lestrade ignored the glares he was getting from Anderson behind him and focused on the genius man in front of him.
"A woman spending that much money on masks, that is a woman who can afford the tickets, shes killing guests, meaning she will want to be there, either to do something big or at least see her damage. Empty chairs obviously"
"Well how are we gonna catch 'er?"
"…I suggest buying a suit or wait for her to make a mistake…" Sherlock shrugged heading for the door.
"Sherlock! … Wait can't be the best you have for me!" Lestrade followed him, clearly worried.
"Door knock anyone with an invite, Watch anyone suspicious, any one of those people could be a murderer… or the next victim. It's the best I have." Sherlock for a moment had fleeting confidence, as though he felt ashamed he couldn't do more. It was unlike him not to have deduced more, he saw everything it just didn't fit together to him.
The door of the apartment creped open slowly and Sherlock gently slipped in, he stopped just inside the door, and his heart sank. A suitcase sat beside the arm chair normally occupied by his best friend, the man he had grown dependent on, just to be there. He was leaving.
"John…" His voice was barely a whisper, but it was enough. John walked around the corner from the kitchen, drying his hands.
"Some guy dropped this off for you; I wasn't sure if it was a bomb or anything so I left it. Figured you'd be able to tell what is was better than me" John looked at Sherlock as the relief showed painfully visible in the other man's face, but only for a moment.
"Right of course, what did he look like?" Sherlock walked to the case bending down pressing his ear to the dark medium sized case, his finger gently tracing the stitching, finally picking it up swiftly putting it on top of the back rest, unzipping.
"About six foot, big guy. Pale, balding. He had a bit of lazy eye…. You thought I was leaving"
"With what you said earlier it seemed reasonable to assume it" Sherlock didn't look at him, but pulled out the tuxedo top, now slightly hesitant.
"Yeah….sorry about that, earlier. I just… is that a tux?"
"Yes" Sherlock mused, putting the jacket on the chair pulling out the matching pants, his size. Lastly he pulled out the mask.
"….Is that real silver! That must be worth a fortune…"John walked over looking at the diamond crested mask.
"Someone wants me at that ball"
"What ball?" Sherlock tilted his head to look at John, pulling out the invite that was in the pocket of the suitcase.
"This one." He left the invite in John's hands before walking over to the window looking out, someone was watching him.
"This was on the Telly Sherlock; this party is the most exclusive party in England. How the hell did you get an invite?"
"She's watching me. She knows I'm going to catch her, it's a game. She wants me there"
"Who is she?"
"That's the point of Masquerade balls John, you don't know who is behind the mask" His gaze never left the window, but he could feel a pressure in himself to speak a topic he wanted to avoid. How human of him. "John…"
"What?"
"Don't leave me" That left John at a loss for words, he hadn't intended on leaving, the suit case must have bothered Sherlock more then he thought. Again the guilt hit him hard. This man was able to hide his emotions so simply, but they were there. Through his walls he was glass, thin perfectly polished glass, which was easy to shatter.
"I wont… it's not like I have anywhere better to go."
"Im sorry, that people think differently of you because of me, it was never my intention to do so, You don't need to care what people think though John" Sherlock finally looked at him. "It only matters what you think, and you like it here with me don't you?" Again John was shocked into silence, that question was emotional, it was honest to god real emotional. Sherlock was scared.
"I don't care what anyone else thinks of me Sherlock, I just don't know what I think anymore.
With that, they both went silent. It wouldn't be brought up again, at least not this conversation. That was how the two of them lived, they would fight or something awful would happen, and they would move past it, and pretend it never happened. Its protected them from ever getting to real with each other, it protected them from the pain the other one could cause, but at any point in time that wall could be broken.
John looked down at the text message Sherlock had sent him, an address of a woman Sherlock wanted him to speak to. A Miriam Parks, the hostess of the Ball. A young widow John was told, an human rights activist and an all-round lovely woman. He didn't trust her at all.
He showed the address to the cab driver and he was off, John was intent on finding out every single thing about her, he would deduce his little heart out, to show he was more than just an assistant to his friend, show he was helpful, show he could was in fact smart and important.
The cab pulled up and John handed him some money, didn't leave a big tip just the change. Wasn't very much but John was sure he took them the long way. The house was beautiful, it looked centuries old, fantastic pillars lead to the door it was truly impressive, but he had once sat in the royal palace, this place was nice but nothing in comparison.
"Mr Watson I presume?" John had been led through the hallway into the library off the main corridor, he was left for a moment while Miriam Parks was told of his arrival.
"John, please" John turned away from the bookcase to shake her hand, instantly he froze, the way she stood, the way she looked at him. It left him with a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"Well John, it's a pleasure" She strode forward to him taking his hand, enforcing the gentle shake, as he had faltered in the aspect.
"Right, yes. Mrs Parks ill just be asking you a few qu-"
"I haven't Mrs Parks for a long time John, Miss Parks now… But I would much rather Miriam" Her smile was instant, no build up. John clearly saw through it, a woman of her status must be used to hiding in the disguises her facial expressions offered. Her eyes betrayed her though, they looked sad.
John learned about her, about her life, her upbringing. A little poor girl in Scottland, she would read growing up, avoiding other children. She had wanted to be a teacher but wasn't able to afford to go to college. John watched as she spoke about her husband, a man almost twenty years her senior who had won her heart, it was barely legal but John found the story oddly touching. Perhaps it was simply her voice, not the words that touched him. He was never the love story kind of man, but hearing of his death, it made John feel for her, this meak little woman that held her pain behind a mask of expressions and words, focusing on her projects and causes to distract herself.
Even though he hadnt known her for long he felt like he knew her, and the urge to protect her grew. The thought of someone out there with her on a list of potential victims worried him immensely, so he suggested –for her sake- he had her number, and likewise. The smile that hinted at her lips as she accepted the proposal made his stomach flip slightly, it was a knowing smirk.
The invitation stood folded on the mantel piece as the boys dressed, Sherlock in his nice new tux as gifted by the friendly psychopath serial killer, John in the nicest thing he owned. Which looked rather dull compared to Sherlock. Sherlock fiddled with the silver mask, and waited for John to emerge from the bedroom, he had a plus one on the invite and didn't know who else to bring. It wasn't a party or a night filled with laughter, it would be a night filled with death and destruction if he couldn't find her before she acted out her plan. So bringing John made sense, he was his partner. They solved these things together, and when he had to do it alone, he always seemed less then what he could have been.
"Is that Lestrade?" John asked whilst attempting to tie his bow, peaking down the window seeing the police car. "Are we getting a police escort?"
"No, I suppose he just wants to talk"
"Ah, is he coming tonight?"
"They couldn't get tickets and the host wouldn't allow them in so… No"
"Well what did he say when you told him you got an invite? You should have told me, Miriam could have given them tickets"
"Nothing, he doesn't know… First name basis already? Is she the one you've been texting?"
"Wait… you mean to tell me a homicidal maniac stalks you, sends you thousands of dollars' worth of gifts and you didn't call the police?"
"The police call us John not the other way around." Sherlock walked to the door opening it, walking back, Lestrade lowered his fist that was about to knock and walked in.
"Theres been another one" He informed the two taking a good look.
"Where?"
"Who?" John asked instantly worried, causing Sherlock to give him a slight look.
"Hotel room, east of the charity site…. 37 year old male, name Michael Williams. Why are you wearing suits?"
"Tux's actually" Sherlock said putting his gun in his pocket.
"Is that her mask?"Lestrade asked walking over to the table, Sherlock looked up and nodded.
"Oh yes, it came in the mail the other day alone with the tux"
"And an invite" John added.
"Where you gonna tell me bout this then?" Lestrade crossed his arms looking between the two like some children who had been busted.
"There is hardly time for you to feel left out, the body was it the same as the others?"
"…Yes, cept this time the lipstick on his face wasn't red. It's a different shade all together, like a yellowy pink"
"Strange" Sherlock mused then fell to silence. Scotland yard was clearly worried if lip stick got their attention, normally Sherlock picked those up.
"Sherlock what do you think it is?"
"No idea, must be off" Sherlock shrugged walking past Lestrade down the stairs, it took John a moment but he was soon following.
Walking through the huge doors was not a big deal for Sherlock, little overwhelmed him. John on the other hand found the entire thing rather daunting, the beautiful British designed made him feel as though he had stepped through time, to the days of the balls and parties the elite would through, anyone of his stature would have been starving on the streets. Somehow though John knew, watching Sherlock glide through the room and crowds with the grace of a prince, that man would have found a way to weasel his way into this group, he would have become elite and not even meant it. Its what Sherlock did.
John walked –now alone- down the stair case to the main foyer and was lead through to the ballroom. His cheap mask and suit standing out surrounded by the gold and glitter of the other guests, thankfully their judgemental eyes were hidden away by their overly heavy masks. John didn't need to feel their gaze.
"Ladies and gentlemen may I have your attention please" The crowd gathered around the small stage in the middle of the ballroom, the waitress's all dressed in white body suits that had been dancing elaborate moves John couldn't interoperate had stopped for the announcement, he stood in the crowd towards the back, surrounded by strangers and a murderer or two, he did not feel comfortable to say the least.
"There is your Miriam" A familiar voice whispered to him, John looked up quickly seeing Sherlock then looked back at the stunning young female figure in a gold lose cocktail dress that hugged her in all the right places, looking completely stunning. He had forgotten in the past few days how stunning she truly was, even with half her face covered.
"I wish to welcome you all to the first of many Parks Charity Balls" She continued, flashing a beautiful smile under the gold rimmed mask, feathers of yellow and silver angled around her up perfectly curled golden blond hair.
"Shes beautiful" John mumbled, looking at the figure.
"Do pay attention John, we have a murderer in the room" Sherlock mumbled rolling his eyes .
"Before the evening starts I think we should all have a moment silence for those who couldn't make it tonight. Friends, family. Let us show our respect" She lowered her head for a moment, the few hundred guests in the room followed in silence as did John.
"She was good friends with the first victim" Sherlock said looking at her.
"Shhh"
"They used to play together as children, my bet who ever-"
"Sherlock shut up"
"…whoever is killing off these people is trying to get at her." He finished ignoring the dirty looks the other guests where giving him.
"Thank you everyone, enjoy your food, you paid enough for it" She joked flashing a stunning smile that made John melt slightly. "Don't worry though, next time with the amount you pay ill be sure to make the plate eatable." The Room chuckled as she stood down, the band started to play and the crowd either partnered up to dance of ventured from the dance floor.
Sherlock walked straight towards her, making his way through the now dancing crowd. John followed eagerly towards the woman he couldn't keep his eyes off, he doubted someone of her beauty, stature and moral level would be interested in him, the way he was her. But after their first meeting and the ongoing texting he felt like he might stand a chance.
His pocket buzzed silently, quickly John pulled out his phone and smiled. 'Think I did a good job?' she had asked, how she could text with her hand in her purse was the question though, talented woman used to multitasking. 'You did fantastic' he replied his eyes down on his phone almost running into Sherlock when he stopped. Send.
"Miss Parks, what a pleasure" Sherlock's voice pierced through her conversation with High Court Judge Richard Mills, her hand dropped from his in their dance and the judge stood in silence for a moment stunned by his rudeness, he would have spoken if the women who had held his hadnt attention speak instead.
"Sherlock Holmes I assume?" Her voice seemed even more perfect then it had on stage, John's chest began to pound hard behind his ribs, the thumping travelled behind his eyes and his hands began to get clammy. His childish crush escalating since their last meeting.
"You knew what I looked like?" Sherlock looked at her with a raised eyebrow, if John hadnt of been distracted he would have picked up on that. He did it on purpose. He wanted to look surprised.
"Of course I know you , I read that blog and I saw the picture with the funny little hat." She smiled gently then looked at the smaller man to his side. "Hello John, its nice to see you again"
"You look fantastic" John said flashing his most charming smile, which made him look absolutely star stuck.
"We do have a murderer here Miss Parks I do hope you don't mind me skipping the pleasantries and asking has everyone showed up who was meant to?" Sherlock asked looking at her, she quickly moved them off the floor not wanting anyone to overhear and get nervous.
"Yes, everyone" Sherlock scanned the room, stopping looking straight at a rather tall man walking around the back off the wall. "I was worried I would have to cancel tonight. So much money raised for the Parks Charity, my late husband wanted this to take off, raising money to help the persecuted and starving overseas. We pumped almost all ou-"
"Hate to be rude Miss Parks but I think I see your murderer must be off" Sherlock said swiftly before disappearing into the crowd.
"Im sorry, He does that sometimes… Leaves like that" John stood awkwardly his hands in his pockets staring at her, he had no problem talking with her last time, or via text but now she looked like a vision, a woman of class and beauty standing infront of him giving him the time of day, he hardly felt he deserved it.
"Oh well… Dance with me John" Her question caught him off guard slightly, but more so the flash in her eyes that showed him utter enjoyment, she liked him. "Unless…you two are"
"No" He said quickly, slightly confused by the down look that followed.
"Oh, sorry… I just thought with the texting and..sorry"
"…Wh- ..OH god, no I mean, we're not… im not… I would love to dance with you"
"Really?" There was a look in her eyes that made John melt, she was suppressed, as though she honestly didn't know how brilliant she was.
"Yes, really" He held out his hand and for a split second his heart leapt, honest to god leapt. Like a teenage boy asking his first girlfriend if she wanted a soda. The hesitance of her hand made it worse, how it slowly lowered onto his, her skin made his breath catch and the hairs on his arms stand up, he wanted to pull the mask off. See this woman he knew would be the most beautiful he ever saw, see her and hold her.
After a moment he finally pulled her closer to him, it was unexpected and caused a slight gasp to escape her lips, it was the most perfect sound he had ever heard. His other hand found its way to the small of her back, and instantly he joined the couples around them, looking eye to eye with her, through the holes in his mask.
After the second song, it felt as though no time had passed at all, neither pressed the issue to stop, nor asked to keep going, they just did. It wasn't until Sherlock burst through the door soaking wet did John even look away from her.
"What the he-… Excuse me" He let her go about to run off, stopping and turning looking at the creature he had been dancing with, taking her hand again to kiss it. "Save me another dance" He whispered to her before running towards Sherlock, leaving her to stare after him.
"Ah, John there you are. Keeping busy I see" Sherlock gripped his soaking jacket and rung it out, water falling to the ground.
"what the hell happened to you"
"little swim nothing important, I found the henchman. Robbie McDowell. Personal butler to Vivian Coats… I hope none of the guests stumble upon him."
"Is he dead?" John looked at Sherlock wide eye, then back at Miriam Parks, who was now smiling and chatting with another man. "You had to ruin it for her didn't you" he mumbled.
"John, he was a murderer, who tried to shoot me. I believe I was quite within my rights. He had this on him" John watched as he pulled out a little remote, feeling instantly uneasy
"…what is it?"
"What do you think?" Sherlock's voice was dark and serious, John knew straight away. The entire room was at the mercy of one woman, a name on a guest list, a face hidden behind a mask.
"Where"
"I don't know"
"Do you think she has one too? One of those"
Silence. It was enough of an answer for the two of them, but the question that followed was do they make a scene try to evacuate everyone, running the risk of her pressing that button or do they try to find her. What did she look like, who was she.
The sound of a high pitched scream forced them to look back, the entire room frozen. Someone had her, someone had Miriam. John sprinted to the open door on the other side, fast as he could. He knew her voice, from just the past few days he knew her, he knew the feeling of her hand in his, her breath on his face, the look in her eyes that showed the sad little girl needing to be loved, he knew her. She was like him, alone, lost. He had met someone completely perfect someone he could fall madly in love with.
An echo of feet hitting the cool stone floor filled the hallway, as the two ran. John pushed the door open at the end, her mask sitting on the bedside table of the stunning bedroom.
"Where is she what happened to her!"
"John, John calm down we'll find her…" Sherlock looked at him confused, the sudden protectiveness of a woman he had known for a few days. What madness the human mind could come up with.
"Sweet isnt he Mr Holmes" John looked up towards the bathroom as she walked out, maskless. He was right she was the most beautiful women he had ever seen, under the light and dressed like a goddess, he felt a wave of calm rush over him, she was okay.
"Thank god your alright, I heard your scream and I was so worried"
"John…" Sherlock started standing back.
"What happened are you okay?"
"John, I think you should probably take a good look at her…" John looked at Sherlock like he was mad before turning to face Miriam, she had a smirk in her face and a remote in her hand.
"So sweet, See I wanted you both in here with me, before I did this-"
"NO!" Sherlock yelled but was to late, the building rattled and shook, John and himself falling down with the explosion, though the room perfectly fine, Miriam gripping the door tightly, a sparkle in her eye. "What have you done!"
"I left you hints Sherlock, you too John but I didn't really think you'd pick up on them"
"…Lipstick" Sherlock rubbed his head looking at her, "I should have know, yellow. Look at you!"
"That's not all though is it John" She looked at him, pulling out the gun from her thigh, just to be safe. "Don't tell me you've forgotten me"
"What?" John looked at her curiously for a moment, completely confused by the turn of events and just not getting it.
"Tisk tisk, for someone who can't keep his eyes of me, I can't believe you don't remember me, I suppose you did spend the entire time talking about Sherlock here."
"…I don't understand…" John looked at her, Sherlock felt the growing gut wrenching feeling in his stomach, he was the only one who could know what she had done to John here, she Irened him.
"The bar John, think back… think hard"
"….Vivian from the bar! Oh god… how" John felt like he might collapse it was all a lie.
"Yes, see you were interested in me, but you weren't interested enough. All he did Sherlock was talk of you, and how fantastic you were. How without you his life would be meaningless…. I'd be flattered if I were you"
"Why… what was the point of it all?" Sherlock asked ignoring what she had told him, not giving her anything, knowing how John must feel.
"I wanted you of course, okay full story because I can see your not as smart as John makes out. My husband had a dream that needed money, he did it wrong and we almost lost ours. He then dies leaving me soon to be poor again. How could I do his dream if I couldn't afford it. Look at everyone who died here tonight and the build-up, politicians, celebrities, royalty. Every single year I can make millions via benefits in their honour, their last wish. Though all of these polluted people deserved it, Liars, thieves. No one really cared about the cause, it was just the place to be if your anyone… "
"Why do this to me" John asked looking at her like a child who had been punished.
"I wanted to spark a relationship with you originally but you weren't really interested, but you described Sherlock here in great detail, what you liked what you didn't. he had sad eyes and a soft manner, childlike in personality but wickedly brilliant in the mind. You were so scared you were gay the moment a female Sherlock was here you fell madly in love, It only took two meetings a few days of texting"
"That's not tr-…your nothing like him" John hissed.
"Why did you want me in the first place?" Sherlock asked keeping a cool tone.
"Better you here then out there, plus where is the fun in not having an audience. And I just knew you'd follow him. Make sure hes okay. Your ridiculous you two, I've been watching you for months, you're a married couple but you wont accept it. Although I think your more likely to then John here is"
"….well I hate to be the bearer of bad news, you might have underestimated my trust in strange women, your little explosion didn't hurt a soul" Her face, fell from a cocky smirk to a angry child.
"I think your mistaken Mr Holmes"
"I never make mistakes. You see, Vivian doesn't exist. I checked all the guest logs, she had a ticket but there is no Vivian. You told me everyone was here, everyone who was real anyway. Tickets to this little party of yours so was expensive but adding me and John was last minute, chairs were added for us. Who had the power to add people but the host, the moment you screamed and John ran, Lestrade had everyone evacuated. By the time you waited for us to find you, they were already out of the building. You ruined your lovely ballroom for no reason what so ever…"
The silence that filled the room was enough to drive John mad, mad with rage and anger and pain. He despised her, this woman. At that moment he couldn't help but think of Irene. She was the other side of Sherlock, the genius, cunning side. Sherlock had become rather fond of himself as well. Maybe Miriam was right, he had felt so strongly for her in such a short period of time. It was never meant for her.
"Miriam Parks, come out with your hands up"
The sound echoed through the room, and her breath caught, fear sprung to her face and her heart started pounding, John watched the horrible woman go from cunning and manipulative, back to the innocence he had found so attractive in her. If he hadnt felt Sherlock's presence beside him, he might have been sucked in a second time. That is until she took the safety off in the gun.
"What are you doing Miriam, its over" Sherlock spoke from beside John, in front of her and the gun.
"No, no it isn't! Not yet. Not while I have you!"
"The moment they hear gun shots the police will be in here in seconds, you'll likely be shot"
"I don't care… its ruined, you've ruined it all! It was for a good cause! Im not a bad person John you have to know that" John looked at her taken back that she had even spoke to him, she hadn't since they entered the room, not really it was all for Sherlock.
"You've killed people"
"No, no it wasn't me, it was beast… "
"You tried to blow up a building full of people"
"To raise money to help the persecution in other countries, we do nothing as a culture, I wanted to do something to help… it was his dream. And it would have worked"
"You've only got one bullet in that gun Miriam" Sherlock finally broke their conversation. "You can't escape. Put the gun down and plead insanity"
"…why haven't you raised your gun Mr Holmes… I can see the outline of it in your jacket. Seems like it would have been the logical thing to do"
"Because you aren't going to shoot me, or John. You're a woman who doesn't like getting your hands dirty with blood; you're a woman who wants to save the lives of the innocent. Look at those who were invited, politicians and media. Your cause has been stunted by their lack of interest. That's why you wanted those dead, that and the money. But us, John and I. We are just men, who catch the bad guys. You won't hurt us will you"
"….I could never have been you Sherlock" She sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed, lowering the gun.
"What are you talking about?"
"It was so easy playing the right eyes, the right movements, the right hesitation… To look and act like you, but in the end John would have missed your brilliance, your essence. I wouldn't have been able to take that form." John listened to her confused by her sudden change, she was barking mad. "John if it makes you feel any better, I do like you. And everything I told you was true, I hadnt intended on you catching me, Robbie would have done it, I would have been in here with you. Im sorry…"
"…Mi-" John stepped forward without thinking, only to have a hand pull him back, looking to see Sherlock, who quietly shook his head and stepped back.
At the exact moment the door was kicked down, he must have heard. Police pushed their way through the rubble of the ballroom, making their way to the room, seeing her unarmed made them relax some, John hated seeing this, watching her be taken away out of the room handled like some sort of monster… He stepped out of the room, looking at the walls the explosion had barely touched. The house was still there standing tall, it must have been a small bomb, only big enough to blow the ballroom. John and Sherlock walked through the mess with police on either side of them, assuming they would be in some form of shock, understandably so in most cases, but not these two.
221B Baker Street seemed quieter then unusual; there was no cases, no sound of sirens, or clinking of laptop keys writing the events that have occurred. John's blog would be missing a case this time around; he couldn't bring himself to write it. So instead he sat on his chair in their living room with a hot cup of coffee warming the insides of his hands. Sherlock sat across from him with a newspaper that didn't turn nearly as often as it should have, either he was engrossed in whatever story he was reading over and over or he was deep in thought, John knew it was the latter of the two.
Finally the paper was put down, rather abruptly. Sherlock stared at him for an extended period of time which caused John to feel rather uncomfortable under his gaze, unsure what it meant.
"Why do you think I have sad eyes?" Sherlock finally spoke, his face showing a mix of disapproval and confusion. It hit John rather hard, how could he explain what he had said to a random woman at a bar.
"…I don't, you don't. It was just… something, it doesn't matter" John stood ready to walk into the kitchen to stop the conversation, but was stopped by the look on Sherlock's face.
"Molly once said something similar to me…"
"…Oh?"
"That I look sad."
John hesitated for a moment, to the side of Sherlock with his eyes focused on the other mans, how could he explain himself? It would come out all wrong he just knew it. "Sometimes, sometimes your wall falters, for a very short time it will drop and ill see you." Sherlock's eyebrow rose hearing this. "ill see you sad."
"And this is something you find pleasing?"
"A little bit, yes. It reminds me your human." John said honestly looking at his friend. "Sherlock im sorry, I should never have spoken about you to a complete stranger… it was stupid"
"Im used to it in your blog." John couldn't help but hint at a smile at that, nothing beat Sherlock sarcasm. "John.."
"…what now?"
"I'm sorry the woman of your dreams ended up being me"
"That's not funny…" Sherlock didn't believe him, the forced serious look on John's face told him he was lying, it wasn't holding. The moment Sherlock began to chuckle John wasn't able to hold it back any longer. They laughed together for what felt like an eternity