The two find themselves at the Scotland Yard impound where the Monkford rental car is still being examined. Lestrade is there as well.
"How much blood was there on the seat, would you say?" Sherlock asks looking between the two men.
"How much?" Greg repeats glancing at the car, "About a pint, I'd say."
The taller man smiles, "Not about, exactly, exactly a pint. That was their first mistake. The blood is definitely Monkford's but it's been frozen."
"Frozen?" The D.I. repeats.
"There are clear signs," Sherlock confirms, "I believe Monkford gave a pint of blood some time ago and that's what they spread on the seats."
Greg rubs his face. "Who did?"
"Janus Cars, the god with two faces." John replies, "The clue is in the name,"
Sherlock eyes snap towards John, "Exactly," He says staring at the doctor. The consulting detective forces his attention back to Lestrade, "They provide a very special service, if you have any kind of problem, money troubles, bad marriage, whatever, Janus Cars will help you disappear. Monkford must have been having some kind of trouble, financial most likely; he couldn't see a way out. If he were say; to vanish, if the car he hired was found abandoned with his blood in it…" He explains.
"Where is he then?" Lestrade sighs.
"Columbia." John answers somehow knowing it.
Greg stares hard between the two, "Columbia?!" He snaps.
"Mr. Ewert of Janus Cars had twenty thousand Colombian peso note, he told us he hadn't been aboard recently, I saw his tan line clearly. No one wears a shirt on a sunbed. That plus his arm, he recently had a booster shot, Hep-B probably, hard to tell. Conclusion; He had just returned from helping Monkford in Columbia. Mrs. Monkford cashes in on the life insurance and splits it with Janus Cars." Sherlock says walking around the car slowly as he speaks.
"Mrs. Monkford?" The D.I. questions.
Sherlock nods with a roll of his eyes. "She was in on it, of course. Now go and arrest them Lestrade, that's what you do best." He finishes and turns to look at John, "We need to let our friendly neighborhood bomber know the case is solved." With the pink phone Sherlock sends a message and only has to wait a moment before a call is coming in.
"He says you can come get me, please help me!" A tearful voice rings out from the line.
Within minutes Lestrade has people being sent out to collect the hostage and to pick up Mrs. Monkford as well as Mr. Ewert.
Sherlock and John headed home or the boarded up resembles of their home.
"Tea?" The doctor asks choosing to ignore the state of the flat. He already has too much to worry about and the repairs needed for the flat are the least of them. He doesn't get a response from Sherlock but he goes to the kitchen anyway. It has been a really long day and John needs this to unwind. He quietly goes about making the tea.
"Are you going to tell me about them?" Sherlock asks from the living room.
John grits his teeth, "There's nothing to tell." He says actually rather steadily.
There's footsteps behind him and a warmth of another body moves behind him, pressing close. "John," Sherlock's voice rumbles through him, his breath warming John's neck, "Please trust me."
The doctor closes his eyes wanting to ignore Sherlock. "Don't." He whispers,
"Trust me." Sherlock murmurs wrapping his arms around John.
"Why?" John asks, "You didn't trust me."
"I did trust you," Sherlock huffs loudly against John's neck; "I do trust you. That's why I didn't want to listen to your vision because I wanted us to have a moment, to have time." He confesses kissing John's nap gently.
"Why didn't you just tell me?" John presses not sure if he should believe.
"I didn't know how," Sherlock tells him, "I don't know how, John. I've never done this before; I've never wanted to do this before." He says turning the doctor to face him.
John eyes the man carefully.
"Never in my life have I ever wanted something so much than what we have. I can't even comprehend to idea of anything happening to you, it constricts my lung to the point I can't breathe." Sherlock says stroking his fingers up John's sides.
At the moment John can't breathe, Sherlock's words are slowly sinking in. He doesn't know what to say, he doesn't know what to think.
Sherlock presses closer, putting his lip against John's ear. "I spent month trying and failing to draw your attention, thinking you would go on as only my partner and friend. Now that we've begun this I don't want to let it go if I don't have to." He murmurs.
John lets out a shaky breath and trying to bring in his emotions, "Sherlock." He mumbles clinging to the man.
Sherlock trails his mouth along John's neck, biting gently at the skin.
The doctor drags his fingers down Sherlock's back wanting more but the timing wasn't right, there is much too much going on to be exploring more of what their relationship can be. "Sherlock," John sighs bringing back his control, "This isn't the right time for this."
Sherlock pulls back slightly, still keeping contact with John, "You are absolutely right." He agrees, "We have a bomber at large who is taking hostages and sending us clues."
"Us?" John asks a little surprised.
Sherlock smiles lowering himself to brush his mouth over John's, "Always."
With the tea forgotten the two go to bed cuddled together and sleep heavily until the rise of the morning sun.
