And if I can't get either, I really try.
Got the wings of heaven on my shoes.
I'm a dancin' man and I just can't lose.
You know it's all right. It's ok.
I'll live to see another day.
We can try to understand
The New York Times' effect on man.
© Bee Gees
Stop. Something is wrong, different, out of order, place - everything. Sherlock's eyes were suddenly wide open, searching eagerly, checking the monitors in a small room in which he was nearly forced to sit the whole ceremony to control the security. Boring - but not anymore.
- So you are here, too. Surprised me again, never boring you...
He couldn't fight the grin forcing its way to his face. Sherlock saw the familiar slightly dancing way of walk in one of the corridors and the same second he jumped from his chair and next moment he ran through the staff corridors, evading few security people left there, all of them concentrated in more important areas. "Perfect timing, isn't it, Jim?" The tune was following him during the chase, mind working, thinking fast, analysing the details - the countries presented now, the song lyrics, timing, place - every bit of information. "Oh yes, I know exactly where you are..."
- Sherlock, why so...breathless?
Jim appeared from a corner, rather mischievous smile mirroring in all his features, white t-shirt with Union Jack on it and "God save our Queen" printed above with a smiley face alongside - just a cherry on top of his appearance. Sherlock was barely able to reduce the speed not to crush into him.
- It is a bomb, isn't it? Right now, under the stadium, the Queen and..
Jim tutted, turning his head like suffering from a deadly headache, closing his eyes tight while Sherlock did his best to catch the ragged breath.
- Tut-tut-tut, Sherlock, think! Or, rather don't - I like when you stop for a while. Simple - I just missed you.
His smile was slightly manic, but in a... good way? Jim was having fun, clearly, and - wanted to share it.
The noise from the Opening Ceremony was reaching them, but not enough to irritate, all staff was anywhere but here, cameras were off, lifeless and turned away from the spot. Sherlock started to smile, quite against his own will in his opinion, and made several relaxed steps towards Jim.
- Missed me? Rather strange, taking into account the circumstances of our previous encounter.
Jim looked him in the eyes, the dark glittering vortex of his gaze was warning and encouraging. Or was it Sherlock's illusion he wanted to believe into?
- Will you ever shut up, Sherlock, dear, or I would have to shoot myself for real and...
The last words were muffled with a very passionate but unmistakably awkward kiss, Jim broke it soon, chuckling and tugging his best distraction's hair rhythmically.
- Enthusiastic, aren't we? But rather inexperienced, I can tell the whole story of unsatisfactory experimenting now..
- Will you, in turn, shut up and... enlighten me?
The song was still playing at the stadium, last chords dying away and followed by the next tune as the two of them changed the Game - or rather just widened the field of it. To the mutual pleasure.