Episode 7 — Staying Alive

The final four contestants are transported back to 1977, where the Bee Gees are singing on a never-ending loop as disco balls twirl overhead. How long will it take before one of them cracks?

...

The opening credits of the 1977 film Saturday Night Fever play across four laptop screens. Sherlock, John, Mrs. Hudson, and Moriarty watch as John Travolta struts down the streets of New York City to the disco beat of Stayin' Alive. As the story of a young man who lives to dance plays out in front of them, the final four contestants are being whisked by train toward their next challenge.

Mycroft greets them upon their arrival at the station. "Welcome to Dole. In addition to being a town of historical significance, this is also the headquarters of the Bee Gees Fan Club in France. You will be meeting some of their members this afternoon.

"I hope you paid close attention to the film you watched on the train, because for the next challenge you will each perform a dance routine to the song Stayin' Alive. The members of the Bee Gees Fan Club will judge your performances.

"This challenge is not designed to earn money for the group. Rather, you will be competing against each other for a very significant prize — an exemption from the next quiz. Winning this exemption will guarantee you a place in the finals, and a one-in-three chance of taking home all the money in the group's kitty."

"A one in two chance," Moriarty corrects him. "The mole can't win, so the other two players each have a 50:50 shot."

"That's assuming the players are equally skilled," Sherlock says. "Whether or not you're the mole, Moriarty, I place your odds of winning at slim to none."

"You think you're so hot?" Moriarty sneers.

"I'm on fire."

"Oh yeah? Well, I will burn you. I will burn the heart out of you."

"I have been reliably informed that I don't have one."

"But we all know that's not quite true," Moriarty says, with a calculating look at John.

Mycroft clears his throat, reclaiming the group's attention. "A car is waiting to take you to the Space nightclub on the outskirts of Dole. There, you will be given a selection of outfits from which to choose. You will have 30 minutes to get dressed and practice your dance moves before the competition. Good luck."

The manager of Space shows the players to four separate dressing rooms that have been set up for them. Half an hour later, they emerge, transformed. Mycroft looks them over.

"I see that you're ready. Follow me."

He leads the group to a room where a dozen members of the Bee Gees Fan Club are waiting. Disco balls twirl overhead, and coloured lights flash on the dance floor. It looks just like a scene from Saturday Night Fever.

Mycroft holds out a now-familiar black velvet bag. "Please draw a number to determine the order in which you will perform."

Mrs. Hudson draws a 3, John draws a 2, and Sherlock draws a 4, leaving Moriarty to go first. As he saunters to the centre of the room, the other three join the Bee Gees Fan Club to watch.

Moriarty is dressed in a dark blue Vivienne Westwood suit. Its classic lines stand in sharp contrast to the glam rock makeup with which he's painted his face. He looks more like a 1970s version of David Bowie than John Travolta.

As the iconic beat of Stayin' Alive pulses out of the speakers, Moriarty launches into an avant-garde expressive dance. There is a compelling, train-wreck quality to his performance. He finishes to a smattering of polite applause and a sea of confused faces.

John is up next. He's wearing a white suite with an open-necked black shirt, just like Tony Manero had on at the end of the Stayin' Alive sequence in the film. His expression is a mixture of embarrassment and resignation.

John dances as though he learned the routine by reading an eHow article. It's not that he's bad, exactly. In fact, he'd fit in fine as part of a line dance. As a solo performer, though, he's underwhelming. He, too, finishes to polite but not particularly enthusiastic applause.

Then comes Mrs. Hudson, in a surprisingly revealing scarlet dress. Sherlock helpfully informs the group that she used to be an exotic dancer. It shows. She may be in her 70s, she may sometimes complain about her hip, but the woman still knows how to move. Her grand finale — tossing her silk scarf to the audience — is met with whistles and cheers.

Finally, it's Sherlock's turn. From the moment he takes the dance floor, all eyes are riveted on him. Perhaps it's his alluring purple shirt, with the top three buttons undone. Perhaps it's the high-waisted black pants that seem to have been spray-painted over his hips and thighs before flaring out at the bottom. Or perhaps it's simply that the man can dance. He moves like the love child of John Travolta and Mikhail Baryshnikov. The audience is mesmerised.

Sherlock ends his performance to wild applause from everyone except Moriarty, who looks as though he's having a hard time restraining himself from clapping along with the rest. The members of the Bee Gees Fan Club confer briefly before their leader steps forward to congratulate Sherlock on winning the competition.

After the dance contest, Mycroft allows the players to change back into their regular clothes before escorting them to a nearby restaurant for dinner. Over dessert, he says:

"Since you're probably all tired out from dancing, the producers decided that you should have an early night. They've had four rooms specially prepared for you at the HotelF1. Your next challenge is simple: If all four of you remain in your rooms with the doors closed until 9:00 tomorrow morning, £100,000 will be added to the group's kitty."

"What's the catch?" Moriarty asks. "Is the hotel supposed to be haunted? Do you expect us to be too frightened to spend the night with murderous ghosts?"

"Nothing of the sort," Mycroft assures him.

"I just hope there's an en suite," Mrs. Hudson says. "At my age, I'm up a couple of times a night."

"Now, that I can't promise you," Mycroft says. "I recommend that you visit the WC before you turn in."

The HotelF1 caters to travellers on a very limited budget, providing accommodations of the strictly no-frills variety. No-frills, that is, aside from the four specially prepared rooms.

Mrs. Hudson gasps as she enters her room. A disco ball hangs over the bed, its slow rotation casting coloured lights around the small space. Music blares from hidden speakers:

Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk

I'm a woman's man, no time to talk

Music loud and women warm

I've been kicked around since I was born

And now it's all right, it's okay

And you may look the other way

We can try to understand

The New York Times' effect on man

Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother

You're stayin' alive, stayin' alive…

Across the hall, in a similarly appointed room, Moriarty is singing along:

Well now I get low and I get high

And if I can't get either, I really try

Got the wings of heaven on my shoes

I'm a dancin' man and I just can't lose

You know it's all right, it's okay

I'll live to see another day

We can try to understand

The New York Times' effect on man

Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother

You're stayin' alive, stayin' alive…

In the room next to Moriarty's, John reprises his dance steps from the afternoon, looser now that he doesn't have an audience.

Life goin' nowhere

Somebody help me

Somebody help me, yeah

Life goin' nowhere

Somebody help me, yeah

Stayin' alive…

In his own room, Sherlock rolls his eyes as the song fades out, only to immediately begin again. And again. And again…

Life goin' nowhere

Somebody help me

Somebody help me, yeah

Life goin' nowhere

Somebody help me, yeah

Stayin' alive…

By midnight, Stayin' Alive has been playing continuously for three solid hours. Mrs. Hudson is curled up in a foetal position, with a pillow over her head. Her right foot twitches in time with the music.

Moriarty appears to have gone mad. He has wrapped the hotel bedspread around his shoulders like a cape, and is duelling with imaginary enemies. "I'll live to see another day!" he yells, lunging at his reflection in the window.

John paces back and forth in the tight confines of his room, muttering to himself. Each time the song fades out, he can be heard repeating "Please let this be the last time. Please let this be the last time."

Sherlock lies flat on his back, palms steepled under his chin. The swirling lights of the disco ball flicker over his pale face. He is utterly still.

At 4:45 AM, Sherlock's door opens, and John steps into his room. Sherlock blinks up at him.

"What are you doing here? Is the challenge over?"

"Not officially. But I'm sure Mrs. Hudson's bladder has forced her to go down the hall to the loo by now. And Moriarty has probably climbed out his window and run off to terrorise the town. So I figured there was no sense in spending the rest of the night in my own room."

"I see," Sherlock says, rising from the bed. "And you're not worried that coming in here is going to hurt your chances in the game?"

"This isn't just a game to me anymore," John says.

"I see," Sherlock says again. He takes a step closer to John.

John closes the remaining distance between them, placing one hand on the back of Sherlock's neck and drawing him down into a heated kiss.

As John's free hand begins roaming, Sherlock pulls back reluctantly. "Remember, we're on camera," he says.

"Not for long."

John unbuttons Sherlock's shirt, eases it off his shoulders, and flings it toward the lens. The scene goes dark.

Giggles cut through the sound of the music. Then there is a low, indistinguishable murmuring of voices. Soon, nothing can be heard except the faint creak of bedsprings and the Bee Gees singing:

Feel the city breakin' and everybody shakin'

And we're stayin' alive, stayin' alive

Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive, stayin' alive

Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive…

At 9:00, the music finally ceases. A minute later, there is a sharp rap on Sherlock's door. He opens it to Mycroft, who glances pointedly at John, sleeping on the bed.

"It seems that we will not be adding £100,000 to the group's kitty," he says dryly. "Breakfast is in 15 minutes."

Four rumpled and tired-looking players stumble down the stairs to breakfast. "Help yourselves to coffee," Mycroft tells them. "You'll want to be alert for the next quiz."

Moriarty, Mrs. Hudson, and John groan.

Sherlock — who earned an exemption by winning the dance competition — looks smug. "I'm not worried," he says.

John kicks him under the table. Sherlock winks at him.

Once the three non-exempt players have completed the quiz, Mycroft begins the familiar routine of typing in each name.

"John." The screen flashes green. John will be going to the finals.

"Jim." Another green screen. The players exchange looks. They all know what that means.

"Martha." The screen goes red. Mrs. Hudson has been eliminated from the game.

End Notes: There's only one episode left. Who will win? Who will lose? And who will be revealed as the mole? Tune in two weeks from now for the series finale.