Bow

The audience clapped enthusiastically at the stunning performance. Miss Shirley Valentine, diva, whose style was an eclectic cross between Lady Gaga and Michael Buble, had just performed a life changing dramatic rendition of 'Cry Me A. River' and to coin a phrase- there wasn't a dry eye in the house. John was entranced. The Royal Variety Performance was the highlight of the show-business year and Mycroft had got them both tickets. When he had asked a suspicious John to accompany him, there had been a gleam in his eye. It reminded John of how Sherlock used to look at him, when he had just said 'could be dangerous'. Well this wasn't in any sense dangerous, but it was a chance to ask Mycroft some deep questions and try to resolve their feud -and this year the Queen was actually attending . Miss Valentine was a fill in after Diana Ross was suddenly unable to make it but her apparel was no less shimmering, her raven locks brushing nearly to her waist and a radiant glow in her eyes. There was a mystery about her; she reminded John of Dana International, the singer from Israel who had won the Eurovision song contest many years ago.

How come I've never heard of her before, wondered John, she is fabulous. Her voice was deep and mellifluous and her song heartbreakingly sad. He couldn't tell if she were really a low voiced woman, a transsexual, or the best drag act ever. Either way it was all fine.

`Cry me a river, I cried a river over you`.

Mycroft of course had a box at the Palladium. John had an excellent view of the stage but Mycroft was intent on watching the Queen and her entourage and seemed to pay little attention to the parade of top acts on show tonight.

Compares and National Treasures, Fry and Laurie, reunited -introduced the acts and even did a skit at the piano. John started to notice the extra security staff and well dressed men in tuxes hanging around and they looked straight out of the secret service.

"Something's going on, Mycroft," he said warily, "why am I really here, its not just to cheer me up is it?"

Mycroft gave him a sideways glance and then sighed. "John, there has been a terror alert in London and we have reason to believe there may be a threat to Her Majesty, possibly even tonight. I trust it you are armed? We made sure you were not subject to the searches everyone else had to go through, if not I have..."

"Yes, I have it. You know I have it. I will keep on my guard. You have plenty of security staff, why me?"

Mycroft did not answer. After a while John turned back to look at the stage.

Shirley Valentine had come back on to thunderous applause, it was nearly end of the show, and was performing an Enrique Iglesias number.

` Baby I'm addicted, I'm out of my head and you're the only reason I'm trying`

John thought of Sherlock again, every song seemed to mean something and this one seemed to have a message in it too. He got lost in the words

All to soon she had finished and as she took her low bow to the audience and raised up her eyes, she seemed to look directly at him . The audience was on its feet giving a standing ovation but out of the corner of his eyes John saw one of the tux clad secret service chaps dive in front of the Queen and Valentine suddenly produced a weapon from her bust. She aimed and fired at the only man who was not looking at her, John could clearly see the shot as the man fell. The audience suddenly began to panic as the secret service guys moved in. She backed off the stage warily as the man was apprehended and John reached for his gun. He decided to find out who she was.

Mycroft had his walkie-talkie out and was urgently speaking to one of the agents. "You were right," he said. "We have him; he is wounded but still alive. Terror alert level one is in place. We have safely evacuated Her Majesty and are evacuating the building now."

Mycroft looked up. "John, can you secure the premises? Look for anyone suspicious."

"That Valentine person one of yours?" Asked John as he went toward the exit, looking around him.

Mycroft suddenly looked guilty.

" Ahh.. Yes John, Valentine is one of our operatives we have placed just for this, I don't wish to shock you but..."

"Yes, I know it's a man, Mycroft, I have lived." He laughed and moved off quickly and before Mycroft could explain.

Behind the stage the last of the performers were being herded out and as he moved downstage he saw Shirley Valentine, as she called herself, staring right at him, gun in hand.

Right then, thought John, a strange feeling beginning to crawl over him as he went towards her. "What the hell is going on and who are these terrorists threatening our Queen?"

Shirley suddenly smiled and took her wig off. John gasped; he felt his knees buckle under him and the gun he was carrying clatter to the floor.

It was Sherlock.