Sherlock's Gun ,aimed at the ground, was poised and ready to fire. John watsons gaze flashed between the gun and the docile bomb is was pointed at. Jim Moriarty, the crazy phychopath who had managed to get them into this situation, laughed lightly and with malice. "Shoot and we all go up." He sang murderosly. The guns angle changes, pointing at Jim's face. "Of course, you do remember the rifles Don't you Holmes? Surely you must Mr. Watson." John stared at the consulting criminal stedaly. He was no damsel in distress. The army doctor slid up the wall, prepared to run at any time. "John, I should probibly tell you know that this is your gun." John glared at his friend. "You don't know how badly I want to hit you. And don't you say a word." John snapped at Moriarty. Sherlock peered at the red dots dancing across Watson's chest, and a large smile found its way onto the consulting detectives face. He chuckled softly, resembling Moriarty's constant giggle. John's facial expression changed from fear and anger to "Oh dear god. He's gone insane". "There aren't any, are there? No rifles, no guns, just meesly lasers used to entertain a cat." Sherlock muttered.
Moriarty sneered. Sherlock had figured it out. "Well, Aren't You Smart?" He put his hands on his hips, moving them from one side to the other with each word.
"All a big bluff." Sherlock responded, the smile still lingering on his face. John calmed down a bit, knowing there was no thret of a sniper shooting him.
"Nothing there at all." Moriarty regained his compsure and straighend, removing his hands.
Gunshot. Moriarty crumpled to the ground. John's gun, still fully loaded. "I didn't shoot that." Sherlock tossed the gun to John, who inspected it. "Sherlock"
"What is it John?"
"Shouldn't we get out of here?"
"That would be the sensible thing to do yes."
John Watson leaped up and scrambled out of the pool complex, with Sherlock close behind.