A/N: After looking through my first chapter I noticed some really bad spelling mistakes which I have tried to correct (how embarrassing =D) I've got nothing much better to be doing so here's the next chapter, might as well get something done and it's a lot better than shooting the wall like a certain Consulting Detective.
And now for the boring bit, I don't own Sherlock or the characters, blah blah blah. Now let's get back to the story.


Out of the shadows hobbled a pale, short, sandy-haired man. Lestrade's conscious screamed only one thing. Oh my God it's John Watson.


On closer inspection, John looked like he had aged 50 years in a day. His eyes drooped heavily but considering the state he was in you would not expect anything less. After standing in complete awe for what seemed like a millennium, the voice of Sergeant Donovan broke the silence from afar. "Get this man over here" She screamed giving orders to all the policemen available. But it was only Lestrade who noticed something amiss about John. His face, it looks so emotionless he thought to himself. But that isn't possible; John has always something to say. It's Sherlock who seems like he doesn't have any emotion. Sherlock? Sherlock!

"SHERLOCK! Where's Sherlock?"

John tried to speak but all that came out was hoarse cough which made him cringe and hold his ribs. He breathed in and out slowly and calmly trying again. Knowing he would not last long speaking, he chose his words carefully. "Mo..ria...rty Sh...erl...ock B...om...b". At first the look on Lestrade's face was anxiousness, which then quickly turned into realisation, finally turning into horror and sheer bloody panic.

"Oh fucking hell. Are you serious? Wait don't answer that. I can believe he'd get into a situation like this." Once again Lestrade was resorting to running his fingers through his hair, muttering 'bloody hell' under his breath.


It had been only 10 minutes since John exited the pool, and since then John had been ushered to an awaiting ambulance, refused to go to hospital and to top it all off John had tried to contact Mycroft (who he now called 'The Brother From Hell'), but his P.A kept saying "Sorry, Mr. Holmes is dealing with an urgent situation, if you give me your number then he will get back to you within the next couple of days." To which John always kept replying "This IS an urgent situation! His brother is currently facing a murdering maniac who has a bomb next to him!" All she could say was 'oh' John thought to himself. While sitting in the back of an ambulance, legs swinging forward and backwards.

Currently Lestrade was both shouting down the phone and giving the paramedics terrible headaches. "What do you mean four hours!...Yes I know there are worse situations...no, I do want a bomb squad out...yes...2 people...they are important...Sherlock Holmes and... Hello? Hello!" This was the last straw for Lestrade as his phone the next second went crashing against the floor, smashing into a million pieces.

"Since those two Psychopaths inside the pool have not worked anything out yet..." Sergeant Donovan began to say because without prior warning the pool then exploded, engulfing the surrounding area with debris and fire.

TBC... (Duh, Duh, Duh)


I can guess what you are thinking 'why is the world letting this mad person write fics with cliff-hangers in?' Thank you for all the reviews I received, and thank you for reading my story. There's no point in writing one unless people read them.

EDIT: Guess what? The spoiler I found out had nothing to do with what I thought it was. But still might as well finish the story

(NOW DOES NOT INVOLVE ANY SPOILERS THAT I KNOW OF)