Disclaimer : I Do Not Own Sherlock.
Just A Man
LATER. John has returned to his bedsit. Sitting down on the bed, he takes out his mobile phone and flicks through the menu to find Messages Sent. The last message reads:
If brother has green ladder
arrest brother.
SH
(Puzzled, John looks at the message for a long moment, then looks across to the table where his laptop is lying. He pushes himself to his feet and walks over to the table. Shortly afterwards, he has called up a search website called Quest and types "Sherlock Holmes" into the search box.)
Mycroft frowned. That was going to get him interested, Mycroft knew that he would make an appearance shortly.
In an unknown location, a woman wearing a pink overcoat and pink high-heeled shoes slowly reaches down with a trembling hand towards a clear glass bottle which is standing on the bare floorboards and which contains three large capsules. Her fingers close around the bottle and she slowly lifts it off the floor, her hand still shaking.
"That poor woman" said Sally. Sherlock frowned. Something about her seemed different.
BAKER STREET. John limps along the road and reaches the door marked 221B just as a black cab pulls up at the kerb behind him. John knocks on the door as Sherlock gets out of the cab.
SHERLOCK: Hello.
(He reaches in through the window of the cab and hands some money to the driver.)
"So you do pay the drivers?" said Mycroft, impressed.
"Only the real cabbies, not your planted ones" said Sherlock. Mycroft frowned. He though he was being sneaky.
SHERLOCK: Thank you.
(John turns towards him as he walks over.)
JOHN: Ah, Mr Holmes.
Sherlock scoffed. Never, ever call him Mr Holmes, that's his father.
SHERLOCK: Sherlock, please.
(They shake hands.)
JOHN: Well, this is a prime spot. Must be expensive.
SHERLOCK: Oh, Mrs Hudson, the landlady, she's giving me a special deal. Owes me a favour. A few years back, her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help out.
Mrs Hudson smirked. The look on his face was priceless. Sherlock smiled alongside her. One of his favourite cases.
JOHN: Sorry – you stopped her husband being executed?
Mrs Hudson chuckled.
SHERLOCK: Oh no. I ensured it.
(He smiles at John as the front door is opened by Mrs Hudson, who opens her arms to the younger man.)
"What?" yelled Harry. "Why would you sentence a woman's husband to death?"
"Oh honey" said Mrs Hudson, "he deserved it."
MRS HUDSON: Sherlock, hello.
(Sherlock turns and walks into her arms, hugging her briefly, then steps back and presents John to her.)
SHERLOCK: Mrs Hudson, Doctor John Watson.
MRS HUDSON: Hello.
JOHN: How do?
MRS HUDSON (gesturing John inside): Come in.
JOHN: Thank you.
SHERLOCK: Shall we?
MRS HUDSON: Yeah.
(The men go inside and Mrs Hudson closes the door. Sherlock trots up the stairs to the first floor landing, then pauses and waits for John to hobble upstairs.
"You waited for him?" asked Lestrade shocked.
"I'm not a complete monster" said Sherlock, "if he is going to become my flatmate, I will make sure he has means to get home, and if not, I'll wait for him."
Sally snorted. She seriously doubted that.
As John reaches the top of the stairs, Sherlock opens the door ahead of him and walks in, revealing the living room of the flat. John follows him in and looks around the room and at all the possessions and boxes scattered around it.)
JOHN: Well, this could be very nice. Very nice indeed.
SHERLOCK: Yes. Yes, I think so. My thoughts precisely.
(He looks around the flat happily.)
SHERLOCK: So I went straight ahead and moved in.
JOHN (simultaneously): Soon as we get all this rubbish cleaned out ... Oh.
Sherlock blushed. He was messy. His mother always complained about that.
(He pauses, embarrassed, when he realises what Sherlock was saying.)
JOHN: So this is all ...
SHERLOCK: Well, obviously I can, um, straighten things up a bit.
"You really want to impress this guy" said Mycroft, "you're actually cleaning up?" Sherlock glared at his older brother.
(He walks across the room and makes a half-hearted attempt to tidy up a little, throwing a couple of folders into a box and then taking some apparently unopened envelopes across to the fireplace where he puts them onto the mantelpiece and then stabs a multi tool knife into them. John has noticed something else on the mantelpiece and lifts his cane to point at it.)
JOHN: That's a skull.
SHERLOCK: Friend of mine. When I say 'friend' ..."
Mrs Hudson lifted her nose.
"If you think that you are keeping that in my flat, young man" she warned. Sherlock smiled. He could sense a game happening between himself and Mrs Hudson.
(Mrs Hudson has followed them into the room. She picks up a cup and saucer while Sherlock takes off his greatcoat and scarf.)
MRS HUDSON: What do you think, then, Doctor Watson? There's another bedroom upstairs if you'll be needing two bedrooms.
Mrs Hudson smirked. She always loved messing with people.
JOHN: Of course we'll be needing two.
MRS HUDSON: Oh, don't worry; there's all sorts round here. (Confidentially, dropping her voice to a whisper by the end of the sentence) Mrs Turner next door's got married ones.
(John looks across to Sherlock, expecting him to confirm that he and John are not involved in that way but Sherlock appears oblivious to what's being insinuated. Mrs Hudson walks across to the kitchen, then turns back and frowns at Sherlock.)
MRS HUDSON: Oh, Sherlock. The mess you've made.
(She goes into the kitchen and starts tidying up, and John walks over to one of the two armchairs, plumps up a cushion on the chair and then drops heavily down into it. He looks across to Sherlock who is still tidying up a little.)
JOHN: I looked you up on the internet last night.
SHERLOCK (turning around to him): Anything interesting?
JOHN: Found your website, The Science of Deduction.
"You actually read it" said Lestrade, shocked. Sherlock was made to make a website as part of his rehab, and Greg knew that Sherlock's mother made him keep updating it.
SHERLOCK (smiling proudly): What did you think?
(John throws him a "you have got to be kidding me" type of look. Sherlock looks hurt.)
JOHN: You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and an airline pilot by his left thumb.
SHERLOCK: Yes; and I can read your military career in your face and your leg, and your brother's drinking habits in your mobile phone.
JOHN: How?
(Sherlock smiles and turns away. Mrs Hudson comes out of the kitchen reading the newspaper.)
MRS HUDSON: What about these suicides then, Sherlock? I thought that'd be right up your street. Three exactly the same.
(Sherlock walks over to the window of the living room at the sound of a car pulling up outside.)
"Not again" said Anderson, groaning.
"We must be desperate" said Sally. and Greg sighed.
SHERLOCK: Four.
(He looks down at the car as someone gets out of it. The vehicle is a police car with its lights flashing on the roof.)
SHERLOCK: There's been a fourth. And there's something different this time.
MRS HUDSON: A fourth?
(Sherlock turns as D.I. Lestrade [who apparently must have picked the lock on the front door ... like you do ...] trots up the stairs and comes into the living room.)
SHERLOCK: Where?
LESTRADE: Brixton, Lauriston Gardens.
SHERLOCK: What's new about this one? You wouldn't have come to get me if there wasn't something different.
LESTRADE: You know how they never leave notes?
SHERLOCK: Yeah.
LESTRADE: This one did. Will you come?
"A note" said Sherlock. He started thinking before Mycroft poked him, and told Sherlock to just sit back and watch.
SHERLOCK: Who's on forensics?
LESTRADE: It's Anderson.
Both Sherlock and Anderson glared at one another.
SHERLOCK (grimacing): Anderson won't work with me.
LESTRADE: Well, he won't be your assistant.
"Damn right" snorted Anderson.
SHERLOCK: I need an assistant.
Greg rolled his eyes.
LESTRADE: Will you come?
SHERLOCK: Not in a police car. I'll be right behind.
LESTRADE: Thank you.
(Looking round at John and Mrs Hudson for a moment, he turns and hurries off down the stairs. Sherlock waits until he has reached the front door, then leaps into the air and clenches his fists triumphantly before twirling around the room happily.)
SHERLOCK: Brilliant! Yes! Ah, four serial suicides, and now a note! Oh, it's Christmas!
"Your a psychopath" said Harry.
"Sociopath" corrected Sherlock.
(Picking up his scarf and coat he starts to put them on while heading for the kitchen.)
SHERLOCK: Mrs Hudson, I'll be late. Might need some food.
MRS HUDSON: I'm your landlady, dear, not your housekeeper.
SHERLOCK: Something cold will do. John, have a cup of tea, make yourself at home. Don't wait up!
(Grabbing a small leather pouch from the kitchen table, he opens the kitchen door and disappears from view. Mrs Hudson turns back to John.)
MRS HUDSON: Look at him, dashing about! My husband was just the same.
(John grimaces at her repeated implication that he and Sherlock are an item.)
MRS HUDSON: But you're more the sitting-down type, I can tell.
(John looks uncomfortable.)
"I seriously doubt that" said Sherlock, watching John on the screen. He believed that John was just bored.
MRS HUDSON (turning towards the door): I'll make you that cuppa. You rest your leg.
JOHN (loudly): Damn my leg!
(His response was instinctive and he is immediately apologetic even as Mrs Hudson turns back to him in shock.)
JOHN: Sorry, I'm so sorry. It's just sometimes this bloody thing ...
(He bashes his leg with his cane.)
MRS HUDSON: I understand, dear; I've got a hip.
(She turns towards the door again.)
JOHN: Cup of tea'd be lovely, thank you.
MRS HUDSON: Just this once, dear. I'm not your housekeeper.
JOHN: Couple of biscuits too, if you've got 'em.
MRS HUDSON: Not your housekeeper!
(John has picked up the newspaper which Mrs Hudson put down and now he looks at the article reporting Beth Davenport's apparent suicide. Next to a large photograph of Beth is a smaller one showing the man who just visited the flat and identifying him as D.I. Lestrade. Before he can read on, Sherlock's voice interrupts him and John looks up and sees him standing at the living room door.)
SHERLOCK: You're a doctor. In fact you're an Army doctor.
"Sherlock, what are you doing?" asked Greg. The poor bloke didn't need to be brought into the life that is Sherlock Holmes, he needed to rest and recover from what had to have been traumatizing experience.
JOHN: Yes.
(He gets to his feet and turns towards Sherlock as he comes back into the room again.)
"John?" whispered Harry.
SHERLOCK: Any good?
JOHN: Very good.
SHERLOCK: Seen a lot of injuries, then; violent deaths.
JOHN: Mmm, yes.
SHERLOCK: Bit of trouble too, I bet.
JOHN (quietly): Of course, yes. Enough for a lifetime. Far too much.
SHERLOCK: Wanna see some more?
Everybody froze. John's answer could possibly change everything about their current life style.
JOHN (fervently): Oh God, yes.
Sherlock's eyes lite up. John just smiled. Everyone else frowned, what did this mean for them?
(Sherlock spins on his heel and leads John out of the room and down the stairs. John calls out as he follows him down.)
JOHN: Sorry, Mrs Hudson, I'll skip the tea. Off out.
MRS HUDSON (standing near the bottom of the stairs): Both of you?
(Sherlock has almost reached the front door but now turns and walks back towards her.)
SHERLOCK: Impossible suicides? Four of them? There's no point sitting at home when there's finally something fun going on!
(He takes her by the shoulders and kisses her noisily on the cheek.)
MRS HUDSON: Look at you, all happy. It's not decent.
"Damn right it's not" said Sally. Everyone ignored her.
(She can't help but smile, though, as he turns away and heads for the front door again.)
SHERLOCK: Who cares about decent? The game, Mrs Hudson, is on!
Mycroft looked over at John, who was watching the screen with a smile on his face.
(He walks out onto the street and hails an approaching black cab.)
SHERLOCK: Taxi!
"He is a plant" said Sherlock. Mycroft rolled his eyes.