The next day at the crack of dawn Sherlock was thrust into the final two cases. The first was of a man named Alex Woodbridge, a security guard of a gallery murdered by the Golemn for uncovering a plot that one of the new paintings at the gallery was fake. The victim who was being threatened was a young boy. Sherlock solved the case with evidenced found at a planetarium and the boy was saved. Quickly after Sherlock and Watson finally came together on the case of the missing memory stick and the murder of Andrew West that Watson had been investigating. Watson and Sherlock had just returned to 221b Baker Street, it was late afternoon, a few hours after saving the boy with the fourth case.
"Distraction over, the game continues," Sherlock observed as he sat with the pink phone. Watson frowned.
"Well, maybe that's over, too. We've heard nothing from the bomber since this afternoon." Watson offered. Sherlock stood and went to the fridge, grabbing an icepack.
"Five pips, remember, John? It's a countdown. We've only had four." Sherlock spoke as he took the icepack to his room. Céline was asleep. Sherlock kissed the top of her head and switched out the icepack that she was using for her stomach. He returned to the kitchen and placed the old icepack back into the freezer. Watson watched him.
"So you two…" Watson began.
"Yes," Sherlock answered, curtly. "Don't expect anything to change, we have decided to be quite private."
"Yes…" Watson trailed off. "I'm just surprised is all….since when?"
"Since…oh what did you call it? The Blind Banker?" Sherlock replied.
"Are you happy?" Watson asked.
"Why are you so curious?" Sherlock spoke. Watson shrugged.
"I just am. Friends are curious." Watson responded. Sherlock eyed him and nodded.
"I am happy." He replied, a smile crossing his lips. Watson saw the smile and was happy to see it. Sherlock turned on the telly to pass the time. Watson began to type at his blog. A few hours later it was night. Sherlock was watching the Jeremy Kyle show, getting frustrated.
"No, no, no! Of course, he's not the boy's father! Look at the turn-ups on his jeans!" Sherlock snapped, angry. Watson sigh and turned to look at him.
"I knew it was dangerous." Watson frowned.
"What?" Sherlock asked, getting up to switch out Céline's icepacks again.
"Getting you into crap telly," Watson spoke. Sherlock ignored him and went to change out her icepack. Céline was still fast asleep. He returned to put the old icepack into the freezer. "Have you given Mycroft the memory stick yet?" Watson asked.
"Yep. He was over the moon. Threatened me with a knighthood again." Sherlock frowned, switching through channels absentmindedly until he returned to the Jeremy Kyle show. Watson got up and put away his laptop. "I won't be in for tea. I'm going to Sarah's. There's still some of that risotto left in the fridge." Watson spoke. "Oh and milk. We need milk."
"I'll get some," Sherlock spoke.
"Really?" Watson asked, surprised.
"Really. I have to get Céline's prescription once the shop opens anyway." Sherlock responded, not looking away from the telly.
"And some beans, then?" Watson asked before leaving.
"Yes, yes," Sherlock spoke. Watson thanked him and left. After watching another half-hour episode Sherlock jumped up and checked the laptop. He thought for a moment before typing.
Found, Bruce-Partington plans. Please collect. The Pool. Midnight.
Sherlock set the laptop down and got up to check on Céline. She stirred when he came in.
"Sherlock?" She softly asked. He knelt beside the bed and nodded.
"It's me." Sherlock smiled, stroking her hair. "Do you need anything? I'm going out for a while."
"No, just hurry back." Céline smiled, giving him a small kiss on the lips. Sherlock nodded and switched out her ice pack one more time before leaving to the swimming pool. It was the swimming pool that Carl Powers had been killed in. Sherlock arrived at exactly midnight. He pulled out the memory stick and looked around.
"I brought you a little getting-to-know-you present. Oh, that's what it's all been for, hasn't it? All your little puzzles; making me dance all to distract me from this." Sherlock shouted into the darkness. Sherlock suddenly heard a door open behind him. He turned and was taken aback. Watson walked out. He was wearing a large winter coat, his hands were in the pockets.
"Evening," Watson spoke. "This is a turn-up, isn't it, Sherlock?" Sherlock noticed the sweat on Watson's forehead and frowned.
"John. What the hell." Sherlock spoke.
"Bet you never saw this coming," Watson spoke, he removed his hands from his pockets and revealed that there was a bomb strapped to his chest. Sherlock felt his stomach churn. A red snipers laser rested on Watson's chest. "What would you like me to make him say next?" Sherlock took a step toward him,
"Stop this!" Sherlock shouted into the room.
"Nice touch, this, the pool where little Carl died. I stopped him. I can stop John Watson too. Stop his heart, like I should have done with Céline." Watson spoke, still being prompted.
"Who are you?" Sherlock asked as he looked around. A door opened across the pool and Sherlock eagerly looked over. Molly's boyfriend Jim stepped out.
"I gave you my number. I thought you might call." Jim spoke, he walked around the pool until he stood in front of Sherlock and Watson. "Is that a British Army Browning L9A1 in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?" Sherlock removed the pistol, his eyes were filled with anger.
"Both." Sherlock frowned.
"Jim Moriarty. Hi!" Moriarty explained. Sherlock didn't say anything, he was blinded with anger. This was the man who beat Céline, and now he was threatening Watson. "Jim? Jim from the hospital?" Moriarty continued. Sherlock raised his other hand to support the gun. "Oh. Did I really make such a fleeting impression? But then, I suppose, that was rather the point. Your girlfriend was onto me though. I gave her quite a fright. I suppose I should have waited before sizing her up." Sherlock glared, the laser suddenly moved and confused him. He looked back at Watson. Moriarty laughed.
"Don't be silly. Someone else is holding the rifle. I don't like getting my hands dirty." Moriarty explained. "I've given you a glimpse, Sherlock, just a teensy glimpse of what I've got going on out there in the big bad world. I'm a specialist, you see, like you." Sherlock's eyes grew wide, he suddenly realized what Moriarty meant.
"Dear Jim. Please, will you fix it for me to get rid of my lover's nasty sister? Dear Jim. Please, will you fix it for me to disappear to South America?" Sherlock spoke. Moriarty nodded. "Consulting criminal," Sherlock observed.
"Isn't it brilliant? No one ever gets to me, and no one ever will." Moriarty triumphantly spoke.
"I did," Sherlock spoke, cocking the gun. Moriarty laughed.
"You've come the closest. Now you're in my way. The flirting's over, Sherlock, daddy's had enough now! I've shown you what I can do. I cut loose all those people, all those little problems, even thirty million quid just to get you to come out and play. So take this as a friendly warning, my dear. Back off…" As Moriarty spoke he walked close to Sherlock, unafraid of the gun he held. "Although I have loved this, this little game of ours. Playing Jim from I.T. Playing gay. Did you like the little touch with the underwear?"
"People have died." Sherlock snapped. Moriarty suddenly became aggressive.
"That's what people DO!" Moriarty screamed at the top of his lungs, the words echoing in the swimming pool.
"I will stop you," Sherlock spoke.
"No, you won't." Moriarty smiled. Sherlock tried to offer the memory stick.
"Take it," Sherlock spoke. "Take it and let us leave."Moriarty grabbed the memory stick and quickly tosses it into the pool. Sherlock and Watson both jumped in shock.
"Boring! I could have got them anywhere. Do you know what happens if you don't leave me alone, Sherlock, to you." Moriarty asked. Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"Oh, let me guess, I get killed," Sherlock answered.
"Killed, no no, don't be obvious. I mean, I'm gonna kill you anyway, someday, don't want to rush it, though, saving it up for something special." Morality chuckled to himself as he spoke. "No, if you don't stop prying, I will burn you. I will burn the heart out of you." Sherlock frowned.
"I am reliably informed I don't have one." Sherlock retorted.
"But we both know that's not quite true." Moriarty took a step closer to Sherlock, now he was right in Sherlock's face. "Tell me, if I do touch her again will you kill me?"
"I will," Sherlock replied. Moriarty giggled.
"Well, I'd better be off." Moriarty began to walk back the same path where he came. "Well, so nice to have had a proper chat." Moriarty shrugged. Sherlock frowned. Moriarty completely left and Sherlock rushed over to Watson when the laser disappeared. He helped him get the vest off and tossed it away.
"Are you all right?" Sherlock asked.
"Yeah-yeah, I'm fine," Watson spoke, catching his breath. "Oh, Christ….Are you okay?"
"Me? Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine. Fine." Sherlock spoke. Suddenly two snipers rearmed at Watson and aimed at Sherlock. Moriarty strolled back in.
"Sorry, boys! I'm so changeable!" Moriarty spoke in delight. "It is a weakness with me but, to be fair to myself, it is my only weakness. You can't be allowed to continue. You just can't. I would try to convince you but everything I have to say has already crossed your mind!" Moriarty spoke.
"Probably my answer has crossed yours." Sherlock snapped. Suddenly Moriarty's phone rang.
"Do you mind if I get that?" Moriarty asked. Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"No, no, please. You've got the rest of your life." Sherlock sarcastically spoke. Moriarty answered the phone.
"Hello? ... Yes, of course, it is. What do you want?" Moriarty began, another voice spoke for awhile making him gasp. "Say that again, and know that if you're lying to me, I will find you and I will skin you!" The voice spoke a little longer. "Wait one moment." Moriarty muted the phone and turned his attention to Sherlock and Watson. "Sorry. Wrong day to die."
"Oh. Did you get a better offer?" Sherlock asked. Moriarty unmuted the phone and began to walk away. "You'll be hearing from me, Sherlock!"