A/N: I don 't own any of the "Elementaryl characters and I am not making any money from writing this.
Please forgive any minor spelling or grammar mistakes, English is not my natove language.
Sorry about the delay, but here it is! The final chapter of my story. The conclusion to this tale. I hope you enjoy it. There may be a sequel in the future, but I don't have anything planned specifically.
Sherlock sighed and rolled over in bed, moving closer to Joan. Her head was positioned to the side, and she was staring through the near by window tiredly. Sherlock was looking at her, at the loss of words for the first time. Her breathing was surprisingly shallow, and the room was still filled with the most interesting odors.
Sherlock smirked. "You are blushing."
Joan looked away. "I am not."
Sherlock shrugged. "There isn't much left to be ashamed of now..."
"Ugh", Joan groaned.
Sherlock frowned, moving away a bit. "Are you worried that our recent love making will forever change the paradigm of our partnership and friendship, presumably for the worse?"
"Yes!", Joan cried, turning to face him.
"Oh. I was hoping for something more complex." He sighed. "That way, I could have suggested that we sleep over it."
"Sherlock!", Joan exclaimed.
"Listen. I made sure to avoid all the security cameras on our way to the bedroom. There aren't any in the bedroom anyway. There is nothing wrong with two consenting adults traveling into the wonderful world of release together."
Joan rolled her eyes. "Yes. Because what happened was all about that. Body release."
Sherlock frowned. "I detect sarcasm."
Joan shook her head, looking away. "Just forget it."
Sherlock moved his ears close to her ear. Joan shivered. "Listen... I am quite certain that, if the paradigm changes, it will be for the better", he mused.
Joan shuddered. "Yeah, sure."
He laid the side of his face down on the pillow, brushing it against hers. "Am I the kind of person who would have sex with a woman that he has known for years, getting to know her in any other ways but that, just for the sake of having sex?", he asked softly.
Joan blinked, her skin turning flushed again, but didn't respond.
Sherlock widened his eyes. "That's what scares you", he concluded.
No response.
"And why is that?"
Still nothing.
"Are you afraid of losing me?"
She sighed.
"We will all die eventually. Unless I find the new fountain of youth. Then we could solve crimes and have sex forever. Neat."
They both burst into laughter. Sherlock lied on his back, staring up at the ceiling. "I am not going to lie. I find the concept of love... incomprehensible. I can't grasp it." Joan scooted closer to him. "The only thing that I know for sure that our... act, has only made me care about you even more." He smiled slightly. "I never thought that would be possible. Care even more about you." He turned his head to face her. "I was wrong."
Joan looked him in the eyes. "How do we proceed?"
Sherlock took a deep breath. "I never thought I'd say this, but maybe we should just go by our feelings."
Joan grinned. "I'd like to do this again."
"Of course, nobody at the precinct can know. Yet."
Joan rolled her eyes. "That would make for some disturbing insult-sketches on those flyers."
Sherlock widened his eyes, a memory resurfacing. He slowly started linking the pieces together. "A flyer..."
It was then that the bedroom door opened.
Joan screamed and sat up in bed. Sherlock quickly moved to stand up, but stopped.
Horatio Simms was standing there, black leather gloves over his hands, holding a gun pointed to Sherlock and Joan.
"Hello here, lovebirds", he taunted them. "Don't move. It's time to die."
"Mr. Simms", Sherlock exclaimed, trying to stay calm. "I admit, we didn't expect you. Though I figured everything out as of very recently."
At that point, Joan froze, her eyes glued to her bra, laying on the floor. Sherlock noticed that and winked at her briefly, then quickly turned to face Horatio, about to begin his summation.
"Oh, really?", Horatio asked.
"Richard Shupe, the bank robber", Sherlock explained as calmly as possible, staring down the barrel of Horatio's gun. He gently held Joan's hand. " He grew close to Tracy Miller. His nurse. He revealed the location of the money to her. Around that time, she, and her family, grew close to you. Their handy man. I assume that, at one point, you revealed that your cousin works at an exchange office, right? I saw a flyier at your office. You must have been moonlighting at the time. No phone records, no bank transactions. They reached out to you, hoping to have their money "washed". Or maybe Tracy did it by herself, since you, originally, only planned to murder her. Eventually, you decided to keep all the money to yourself. You convinced her to let you in your house, and then you poisoned her. But her husband and son arrived home early, before she died, and saw you. You panicked and murdered them both. She arrived and tried to fight you off, and you fought back, inflicting her some injuries and transfering traces of blood on her. Then you fled. After searching the home and taking anything that could lead the police to you. And you got lucky. The deaths were ruled murders/suicide. You haven't even touched the money for years. Not even after it's been "washed". And when Jones' uncovered your secret, you murdered them too. And made those deaths appear to be murder/suicide. This time, intentionally."
"There was one hidden area that you didn't find the first time around", Joan continued. With her leg, she was slowly pushing the bra toward the near by bedroom window, planning to kick it. "Somewhere behind the kitchen cupboard. Some info was hidden there. Your phone number, that they never got to use. Maybe even something about the money. That is why they called you. And that is the real reason why you deleted the info about those calls from your cellphone. They were on to you, wanted their cut. So you murdered them. Then we started investigating. We expressed our doubts about the murder/suicide theory. Doubts relating to the deaths from four years prior too. The media started developing the serial killer theory. You found out and decided to run with that. That is why you sent that taunting letter and blood samples to the closest precinct. You haven't even touched the money all these years. You waited for the investigations to die down. Itist mean a lot to you."
Sherlock and Joan exchanged a brief glance. Joan finally kicked the bra to the other end of the room, right under the bedroom window. It bounced against the wall and landed on the floor a few inches away. "And now, you are going to murder us too", Sherlock concluded, feeling cold sweat running ddown his body. Joan gulped. "You must have done some research about us after our conversation. We try our best to keep low profile, me and Joan. But you can only go as far today. You found out about our... achievements. Skills. Since we were already pretty sure that the deaths were not murder/suicide, and you already became involved into the investigation, you figured that it was just a matter of time before we would.. well, get you."
"How did you manage to get inside?", Joan asked.
Horatio smiled. "I figured that the security in the basement would be weaker. I noticed that line on the floor and made sure to step over it, slowly. I circles around the neighborhood a few days after you interrogated me, checking things out. Imagine how surprise I was to discover that you live here now. Working undercover, obviously."
"There are hidden cameras in here too", Joan pointed out.
"I took the shortest path to the bedroom. I figured there would be none on that location."
"You've taken a lot of risk", Sherlock commented.
Horatio grinded his teeth. "I'm not leaving that money. And I'm not going to prison."
At that moment, the bedroom door bust open. Horatio quickly turned in that direction, pointing his gun. Kimberly was standing there, her gun pointed at him.
"Drop the gun!", she ordered. "Now."
Horatio stared intently at her for some time, his gun pointed. Eventually, he dropped the gun on the floor and lied down on his knees.
Kimberly walked over to him and handcuffed him.
Joan sat up in bed, her body still wrapped into the bed sheet, and looked Horatio in the eyes. "We were stalling you", she said, triumphally. "My bra was on the floor. All I had to do was push it toward the area underneath bedroom window. It activated the silent alarm."
She then stared at Kimberly, eyes wide and face blushed. Sherlock looked away and reached underneath the covers, quickly pulling his underwear on. Kimberly just shook her head and led Horatio away.
#
Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief after putting the last box filled with his personal items on the table. Dining room table, located in the brownstone. They were back.
Joan followed after him, a box containing Clyde in her hands. She sighed and looked around, putting the box down on the table. "It's nice to be back", she exclaimed.
"It sure is", Sherlock agreed. "Though we can still have separate bedrooms if you want."
Joan smiled, walking over to him and kissing him on the lips. "Nah", she said. "Call it in whatever cynical way you want, but you love me."
Sherlock brushed a strand of Joan's hair behind her ear. "Don't say that", he whispered, smiling warmly. "Rarely."
They kissed again, longer this time.
"Joan?", Sherlock whispered as they pulled away.
"Yes?", Joan responded, licking her lips.
"Happy Valentine's Day."
~THE END~