"So you're not gonna tell me what's going on?"
"Seb, if I told you the whole plan, you'd object immediately."
"But you're still going through with it?" Sebastian argued with his girlfriend, Joanna Moriarty. He was her best sniper, as well as her lover, and usually was never told the whole of her devious plans.
She smiled at him, but he could tell her expression wasn't genuine. "Relax. Everything is going to turn out fine. Sherlock Holmes will fake his own death, although it will look real, you won't actually have to kill Watson, and I'll be unscathed. And maybe," she starts again, moving close to him. "If everything is successful, we can celebrate back at the flat." Joanna tugs at his tie slightly, indicating that their actions later would not be suitable for public discussion.
He steals a kiss from her before she can back up. "Alright, boss. Where shall I set up?"
"In the stairwell across from St. Bart's. I'll be on the hospital roof talking to Sherlock. If he jumps, don't shoot. If he doesn't, well you know."
"Okay. But he careful, Jan."
"I always am, Tiger."
Sebastian picks out his favorite gun, one he named Mercy. It was ironic, because the bullets he used for Mercy were poisoned. The gun was set up in a way that if he shot once, Holmes' companion John would be down.
Thankfully Jan chose a place for him where he could see the scene being played out. Seb could almost hear the music on the roof as the two met for perhaps the last time. Ah, ah, ah, ah, stayin' alive, stayin' alive. A nice touch for a grisly murder. He could tell she was "revealing" her crime to Sherlock, but that wasn't all to it. The two on the roof were playing with a delicate fire; one wrong move and they'd be burned.
The only downside about all of this is that it had made Joanna distant. She wouldn't say much to him; she'd just stare into space, the gears in her brain turning at the speed of light. He feared that she didn't love him anymore. Joanna seemed to be slipping from him, and Seb didn't know what to do about it.
Suddenly, he sees Jan shake hands with Sherlock. He must be ready to jump! But wait, Jan just...
No.
She shot herself in the head.
That's the part she wasn't telling him about! Sherlock would jump, he was standing on the edge now, but she'd die too.
Sebastian shook off the impending tears. Not yet. He still had a duty to fulfill. Then he would let his emotions come through.
Sherlock jumps, John yells for him, and all Seb could think was "good. Now I can go die with Joanna."
Seb races up the steps to the roof of St. Bart's. he knew she would still be lying there, or at least he'd run into them taking her away. He brought Mercy, ready to fire at his last target.
Jan had put a bullet in her mouth; there was blood everywhere. It ran into her hair, which was splayed out beneath her. The peaceful expression on her face made Seb believe that her plan had gone accordingly.
"Jan?" He says quietly to her corpse. "Joanna!" He says, louder this time. "God damit, stop it. Stop this! Had I known, I-" he couldn't even finish his sentence; his sobs came forth and choked his words. Finally he managed to collect himself long enough to say "I love you."
At that moment, Joanna's dark eyes blink open. She looks at him, gives him a genuine smile, and replies with "I love you too, Tiger." She then gives him back the handgun she had borrowed, and showed him that it was a blank fired, a few packets of synthetic blood, and her fabulous acting that had done the job. Sebastian was too happy for words; all he could do was gather her into a warm embrace that lasted for a long time. "Never leave me again." He whispers to her.
"I never would. Now come on," she breaks the contact. "I told you we would celebrate at the flat. Sherlock is temporarily dead, so we should be enjoying ourselves!"
The two got themselves off of the roof and back to their flat, where they both celebrated late into the night.