The next things would've been a blur for a normal person who had just witnessed someone die, but not Sherlock Homes, who calmly walked out the room and, when walking past the police, told them where the body was. He was "kidnapped" - as Sherlock had later told John - by the paramedics, forced into the back of an ambulance and covered in a shock blanket. He was sitting there for ten minutes, after many attempts at the getting the cursed blanket off his shoulder, when Lestrade walked over to him, laughing.
"Why have I got this blanket? They keep putting this blanket on me" asked Sherlock after the paramedic put it back onto his shoulders.
"Yeah, it's for shock" informed Greg, as if Sherlock did not know that.
"I'm not in shock" said Sherlock.
"Yeah, but some of the guys want to take photographs" chuckled Greg. Sherlock looked and saw that some of the police officers did in fact have their mobile's out and were snapping pictures of him. Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"So, the shooter. No sign?" asked Sherlock, wanting to be sure.
"Cleared off before we got here. But a guy like that would have had enemies, I suppose. One of them could have been following him, but...we've got nothing to go on" said Greg, glancing down at his empty notepad.
Sherlock smirked.
"Oh, I wouldn't say that."
"OK" sighed Greg, "give me."
"I can't. Sorry" said Sherlock, glancing around.
"Sorry?" asked Greg, staring at the fact that Sherlock did not want to show off.
"Yeah, I made a promise. Anyway, you done with me?" said Sherlock, staring at Greg before standing up.
"Where are you going?" asked Greg and he pushed Sherlock back down onto the ambulance.
Suddenly John appeared around the side of the ambulance and leaned casually against where Sherlock sat. He smiled at Greg.
"He's coming with me" with a smile at Sherlock.
"How did you get on the scene?" asked Greg.
"Bribed Sally" said John. Greg looked at him.
"With what?" he asked.
"Told her that the sooner I get to Sherlock, the quicker he will leave" said John. Sherlock stood up, gladly dropped the shock blanket to the dirty wet ground, and started to walked away with John.
"I've still got questions" yelled Greg, he was ignored, "Sherlock!"
"Detective I just want to go and get dinner, and besides you said so yourself, I am in shock. And I just caught you a serial killer... More or less" said Sherlock turning around.
"OK. We'll pull you in tomorrow, both of you. See you" and with that, Greg turned his back and walked back towards the crime scene, where the body of the taxi driver was being removed.
"Good shot, you've gotten a lot better" said Sherlock as they walked.
"I know. Through that window. Quite a distance too" replied John, "I'll need a new gun."
" A birthday present, and we need to get the powder burns out of your fingers. I don't suppose you'd serve time for this, but let's avoid the court case. Are you all right?" asked Sherlock. He stopped John and grabbed his best friend's shoulders.
"Yes, of course I'm all right" said John, looking right into Sherlock's eyes.
"Well, you have just killed a man" said Sherlock.
"Yes...That's true, isn't it? But he wasn't a very nice man" said John and he smiled. Sherlock smiled and let go of John. They stared at each other.
"No. No, he wasn't, really, was he?" muttered Sherlock as they both began to walk again.
"Frankly, a bloody awful cabbie" smiled John.
"That's true, he was a bad cabbie. You should have seen the route he took us to get here" said Sherlock. They both began to laugh, getting many stares from the people working there.
"Stop it! We can't giggle, it's a crime scene. Stop it" said John, glancing around.
"Well, you're the one who shot him" answered Sherlock.
"Keep your voice down" whispered John, looking around again. Sherlock smirked.
"No."
"Hey, guess what Sherlock slept with for the first ten years I knew him?" yelled John. Sherlock went a little red.
"Alright, I'll shut up" he whispered. They chuckled again.
"You were going to take that damn pill, weren't you?" asked John.
"Course I wasn't. Biding my time. Knew you'd turn up" answered Sherlock.
"You're an idiot" smirked John. Sherlock looked at him innocently.
"Dinner?" he asked.
"Starving" answered John.
"End of Baker Street there's a good Chinese" said Sherlock.
"I know" said John. They saw a black car in the distance with a man holding an umbrella.
"It stays open till two" said Sherlock, pretending to have not noticed the man, however, he did stop walking.
"Seriously? It was only twelve the last time I was there" said John.
"Do you know how to tell a good Chinese from a bad Chinese?" asked Sherlock.
"No how?" asked John.
"You can tell a good Chinese by the bottom third of the door handle" said Sherlock, as he saw the man out of the corner of his eye start to walk toward him.
"Sherlock... fattie at twelve o'clock" muttered John.
"Here we go" said Sherlock as he turned to face his big brother.
"Another case cracked. How very public-spirited. Though that's never really your motivation, is it?" said the man as he stopped in front of the two friends. Who stared at him, innocent expressions plastered on their faces.
"What are you doing here?" asked Sherlock.
"As ever, I'm concerned about you" replied the man, coldly.
"And?" asked Sherlock, staring back the man.
"Always so aggressive" sighed the man,"did it never occur to you that you and I belong on the same side?"
"Oddly enough - no."
"We have more in common than you'd like to believe. This petty feud between us is simply childish. People will suffer. And you know how it always upset Mummy."
"I upset her? Me? It wasn't me that upset her, Mycroft."
"You two and your mother" sighed John. He began to walk over to the car. The two brothers followed. They were still talking as they went.
"John, you know mummy asked you to call her mummy, you are practically family" said Mycroft.
"Putting on weight again?" asked John. Sherlock, believe it or not, snorted.
"Losing it, in fact" said Mycroft.
"Delightful" said Sherlock and they stopped right beside the car.
"He's your brother" said John. Mycroft rolled his eyes.
"I'm still waiting on DNA proof" answered Sherlock.
"Seriously?" asked John.
"No, Mycroft wouldn't let me" sighed Sherlock. Mycroft shook his head.
"Are you hiding something Mycroft?" asked John, playfully, "could it be that you aren't actually related. You look nothing like your parents."
"Oh for goodness sake" sighed Mycroft.
"What is wrong, is the British Government upset?" teased Sherlock.
"I occupy a minor position in the British government" stressed Mycroft, like he had said this too many times before.
"You are the British government, when he's not too busy being the British secret service or the CIA on a freelance basis. Good evening, Mycroft. Try not to start a war before I get home, you know what it does for the traffic" said Sherlock and he walked away.
"See you later, Mycroft" said John and he began to walk away.
"Yes, of course. John?" said Mycroft. John stopped and turned to face Mycroft.
"Yes?" he asked.
"Welcome home" nodded Mycroft.
"Thank you" said John.
"You two look good together, announcement soon?" teased Mycroft, his face straight as ever.
"Oh, go and rule the country" said John, "OK. Goodnight." John started to run to catch up with Sherlock, who was waiting with a taxi.
"Goodnight, Dr Watson."
"So, dim sum. Mmm!" said John as he climbed into the taxi beside Sherlock. The taxi drove away.
"I can always predict the fortune cookies" said Sherlock.
"No, you can't."
"Almost can."
"What, you practiced?"
"What about the one telling you that ..." stared Sherlock.
"Lucky guess."
"I never guess."
"Yes, you do. What are you so happy about?" asked John.
"Moriarty."
"What's Moriarty?"
"I've absolutely no idea."
"Sir, shall we go?" asked Mycroft's assistant when she saw that her boss was still staring after the cab.
"Interesting, they got straight back into the way they long as they stay away from my umbrellas. We need to upgrade their security. Grade three."
"Sorry, sir - whose status?"
"Sherlock Holmes, and Dr Watson."