I came up with this idea while watching The Empty Hearse. It started out a little crazy, and then gradually evolved into this.

Special thanks to Hoodoo for beta-ing! This story would have way more mistakes without him.

Enjoy!

"Please, will you do this for me?"

"Do what?"

"This phone call-it's... it's my note." Sherlock whispered hoarsely.

It was cold, freezing cold, so cold that the detective's long fingers felt like stone. A perfect day for a death (even if it was going to be faked). He hated doing this to John. He hated lying to his best friend.

But if his best friend was going to live, it had to be done.

"It's what people do, don't they? Leave a note?"

"Leave a note when?" John was staring up at Sherlock with wide eyes. He seemed panicked.

"... Goodbye, John."

"No. Don't."

Sherlock closed his eyes, and nodded slightly. He took his mobile away from his ear, and cut John off.

One more thing needed to be ensured.

Painstakingly, Sherlock typed out a text. It was slow, too slow. He began to type faster. A little too fast.

LIZARDS –SH [sent at17:43 PM]

"Crap." Sherlock muttered. He tried to type it out again.

LEMONS –SH [sent at 17:43 PM]

"Damnit!" Sherlock growled.

Mycroft Holmes is typing...

? –MH [sent at 17:44 PM]

The cold detective tried again.

LARVAE –SH [sent at 17:44 PM]

"For the love of-"

Sherlock cursed his autocorrect under his breath as he fumbled around with his mobile.

LADY GAGA –SH [sent at 17:45 PM]

"For God's sake! Confound this autocorrect!" Sherlock cried, exasperated. Stabbing at the Contacts widget, he scrolled down to find his brother's name, and pressed dial.

"Mycroft Holmes speaking." Mycroft sounded stressed.

"Lazarus, you twat," Sherlock snapped.

"Ah, I was beginning to think someone had taken your phone, brother mine," Mycroft chuckled amusedly. "Glad to see your voice is still in proper working order, even if your fingers aren't."

"Just shut up," Sherlock fumed.

"Lazarus is go, by the way."

Sherlock sighed exhaustedly, and threw his phone to the side. He spread his arms.

John realised, too late, what was going to happen.

"SHERLOCK!"

As Sherlock plummeted towards the hidden blue cushion, he thought firstly of John. Then of London.

And then of how he needed to get rid of his autocorrect one day.

Let me know what you thought!