Chapter 6:
After John is confident that Evie will be alright, Sherlock practically drags his blogger back to the flat.
The plan buzzing in his brain is time constrained. With the Napper still on the loose, her next target will no doubtingly be Mrs. Hudson.
So in order to trap the Napper…
Once they arrive at the flat, Sherlock turns to John, a strange gleam in his eyes.
"John, I need you to pretend to be Mrs. Hudson."
John is completely taken back. It takes a moment for him to form a coherent sentence. "I'm sorry, what?" John asks in disbelief.
Sherlock looks at him exasperated, "You heard me perfectly well."
John can't believe Sherlock is being serious. But Sherlock isn't one to joke around.
"You, want me, to pretend to be Mrs. Hudson?" he cries, taking a step forward, "No, no. I won't do it."
Sherlock's asked him to do crazy, insane, utterly ridiculous things, but cross dressing is too far. John draws the line at cross dressing.
Sherlock gives him a funny look. He knew that John would respond in a similar manner. He pulls off his scarf, twisting it in his hands.
"Mrs. Hudson is in a lot of danger right now, John. Ignore the fact that she is with my brother at the moment, but eventually hiding will no longer be an option. The Napper wants her dead. Won't stop until she is dead. The Napper will only move to another warning sign. More people will die, John." Sherlock knows that he's playing off of John's emotions, but this is Mrs. Hudson's life that is at stake.
Sherlock is willing to risk everything. Even John's trust and confidence in him to keep Martha alive.
"You are a similar height and build to Mrs. Hudson. You have the same hair color and style. The napper wouldn't be able to tell the difference if your back was too her. I'll subdue her before she even gets close to you. Please John!"
John looks down at his feet, thinking. He knows there is no other option at the moment. He knows that as much as he doesn't want to dress as Mrs. Hudson, he's going to do it anyway. It is for Mrs. Hudson, after all. She means the world to Sherlock, and John can't disappoint him.
He looks up and sighs.
"Yes, alright, I'll do it," he says reluctantly.
Sherlock smiles.
John regrets agreeing to it as he's trying to fit into one of Mrs. Hudson's dresses. Though Sherlock is correct that they are similar sizes, the fact still remains that Mrs. Hudson is a woman and John is a man.
"God, what am I doing?" he mutters to himself.
Sherlock is bustling about the flat, his internal countdown making him move faster. He won't rush John just yet. He'll need to go over some of the details of the plan with his flatmate… and may even make dinner for him later.
When John rejoins him in the living room, Sherlock directs him to sit on the couch and begins to explain the plan.
"In about 15 minutes, the napper should arrive. She will no doubt come through the window. I will station myself out of her line of sight. You will be on the couch sipping tea. You must keep your back to the window at all cost. She will most likely have the paralytic and a rope with her."
John nods in understanding after Sherlock finishes his explanation. In his mind he can see every way the plan could go awry. He can't help but think that they should be working with the police, and not just acting on their own.
John does trust Sherlock to stop the napper before she does any harm to him. But he can't help but feel nervous. He is playing bait.
She'll just have a needle and rope, John tells himself, There's no need to worry.
He sits, with his tea, trying to seem relaxed, casual, and female. Or at the very least not blatantly male.
The minutes pass slowly, John on the couch, Sherlock off to the side. John is tense with waiting. At any moment the napper will be there.
At last, the window creaks. John's body tenses, going into soldier mode, but he does not turn around. There is the soft sound of a body climbing in. From the corner of his eye John sees Sherlock slowly approaching. He still does not turn around.
Suddenly, an arm grabs John from behind. The teacup slips from his grasp and breaks on the floor. There is something cold and sharp at his throat.
A knife.
AN: *smiles mischeviously* We are so mean!
Thanks for reading! Tell us what you think!
-Allie and Nephy