Hey guys. I felt deliciously evil after the last chapter, but seeing as I got lots of lovely reviews and still took ages to review, so I won't be doing that again. I do have a reason, though - unfortunately I recieved some bad news, which is also why this chapter is a bit short, and, er, rubbish. Sorry. But I'll update soon, I promise!
At last, it stopped. John let go of Sherlock, panting a little.
"Was that really necessary? Only I was in the middle of something. And why is it dark?"
"For goodness sake, you're supposed to be good at deductions. I shouted 'avalanche', now we're both on the floor in the dark after a lot of shaking."
Sherlock looked at him, raising an eyebrow. Even in the dark, he could see his companion reddening.
"I… I didn't mean -"
"We're on our own, John, and I'M hardly going to start thinking we're a couple." He got up, pulling out his phone.
"Good idea – let's call Mycroft," said John, following.
"What? No, don't be ridiculous. I need a light to investigate by."
"Sherlock, we have to call somebody, how are we going to get out."
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." Sherlock had by now returned to the fireplace, and was about to stick his head in it again. John grabbed his shoulder and forcibly pulled him across the room. He swung open the door to the cabin. They were greeted by a solid wall of snow.
"There is enough snow to cover the windows and doors enough that not even any light can get through. If we call now, you'll have plenty of time to finish whatever the hell it is you're doing over there before they arrive."
"Well why don't you – oh. Of course. You always do forget to charge your phone." Sherlock frowned. "Here." He begrudgingly shoved his phone into John's waiting hand.
"Thank you." The army doctor punched in the numbers and put the phone to his ear. After several moments, he frowned. "There's no signal."
"Don't be ridiculous, John, there's always signal for the emergency services."
"No, there really isn't a signal. Look." He handed it over.
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "That's because you dialled '999'. We're in France, you need '112'. See?" He punched in the new number and handed the phone back. He marched over to the window and looked out into the thick, dark white.
John also rolled his eyes, and put the phone to his ear. "It's still not working."
Sherlock's head snapped towards him. "What?" He crossed the room in two strides and snatched the phone off him. John was right.
"But… that's impossible."
"Well, it's happened Sherlock. What now?"
The detective raised his eyebrows and turned down the corners of his mouth in a sturgeon face. "Well, I'm going to continue the case."
"We can't stay here, you know. We'll freeze. Or starve."
By now, Sherlock was already back by his post at the chimney, torso within the cavity once more. "When we come to it, John."
John stared at what he could see of his companion in despair. He knew, of course, that there was no way to change his mind, but surely if he could just make him see the severity of the situation…
"Sherlock, we could die."
"I've died before. It isn't as much of an inconvenience as you might think."
John shook his head, sighing in the most exasperated fashion he could muster, hoping his friend would take the hint. When nothing happened, the doctor sighed again, more quietly this time, and settled himself on the floor near the wall.
It was going to be a long day.
Please review if you want :3
