Sherlock and the Case of the Captured Best Friend

A Sherlock Fan Fiction

By: Amber Warren

UGH! No one else reviewed! But you have to promise to review since I'm givin' you guys another chapter, okay? Okay! Enjoy!

Sherlock wants more than anything in the world than to sprint over to John and hug him so tight, he won't be able to breathe. But that just wouldn't be Sherlock's style, now would it? Oh, bloody hell, who cares? Sherlock thought he had lost John forever and now, here he is, alive and well! Sherlock feels the depressed weight he had gained when he saw John dead lift off his heart and a feeling of happiness he's never felt before descends on him.

Sherlock's best friend, the only person he truly cared for that he thought he'd lost forever, is back.

Before he can stop himself, Sherlock runs over to John and envelopes the shorter man in a hug so tight, yep, he can barely breathe. "Sh-Sherlock -, I-I c-can't - b-b-breathe!"

Sherlock takes a step back and tries to compose himself. Tears had begun to pour from his blue eyes as he hugged John with all his might. "Oh, uh, s-sorry! I th-thought you were dead! What happened to you?"

"Well, all I really remember is getting in a cab, the cabby turning around, revealing himself to be Moriarty, then trying to get out, not being able to, and being knocked out," John explains still rubbing the spot on his head where Moriarty had knocked him out. "Are you crying?"

"Uh," Sherlock wipes the tears from under his eyes with his sleeves and sniffs. "No!"

John tilts his head. "You were, weren't you? I guess you're not as heartless as you make out to be. You do care about people."

"Don't you dare tell anyone!" Sherlock looks around, making sure no one can hear about Sherlock's soft side.

"I won't," John laughs. "Wait, why did you think I was dead?"

"Because I saw you! You were dead!"

"Do you want me to be?" John tilts his head.

"No, no, no, of course not!" Sherlock exclaims and then he remembers the corpse. "But you had a bullet through your temple and were in the same position that the other murdered people were in! Wait, if you're alive, then whose corpse was that?"

Sherlock all of a sudden runs from the room, John tagging along like the good ol' days. Sherlock can't help but think, That's more like it!

When the reunited pair come to the place "John's corpse" is, Sherlock examines the body closer. At first glance it looks like a person, but at second glance…

"It's a doll!" Sherlock exclaims. "Like the ones Moriarty put at our flat! Moriarty knew I'd be too distraught over finding you like this, I wouldn't check out the body thoroughly! Clever!"

John raises an eyebrow. "And horrible?"

"Oh, yes, well, that, too, of course!" Sherlock says quietly.

John rolls his eyes. "Come on, let's get out of this creepy place."

The two exit the old warehouse and hope they never have to see that place again.

Sally and Lestrade are waiting outside for Sherlock. Sally is texting and Lestrade is on the phone when the two exit the warehouse. Sally drops her phone as dose Lestrade when they see John.

"B-But, y-you-"

"Don't worry, I'm not dead," John grins. "I just got knocked out!"

"B-But, Sh-Sherlock," Lestrade stutters, "you said th-there was a body!"

"It was a doll," Sherlock explains. "We found others in our flat that Moriarty put there."

"Oh, yeah, mentioning the lunatic," Sally says, turning to glare at Moriarty who is sitting calmly in the police car, "he confessed to the crimes. You're off the hook, Freak."

"See? I told you I didn't do it!" Sherlock says. "So, as always, I was right and you were wrong."

"Don't push your luck, Sherlock," Sally now turns back to glare at Sherlock.

John yawns. "Ugh, I'm exhausted! Can we head home?"

"Yes, of course," Lestrade nods. "You two should go home and get some rest; you've had a rough time. I'll get you a cab."

Sitting in that funny little cab (not driven by Moriarty), Sherlock and John sigh contentedly. They'd both gotten their best friend back and we're about to enjoy a well-deserved rest.

Stepping out of the cab, they walk up the concrete steps to 221B Baker Street and step inside.

The two hear the voice of Mrs. Hudson laughing, and the pair give each other quizzical looks. Mrs. Hudson never has company over.

Sherlock and John walk into their living room and see Mrs. Hudson sitting in John's chair and some unknown gentlemen sitting in Sherlock's chair. Mrs. Hudson turns bright red and stammers, "Oh, hello boys! I thought you'd be out later on your case!"

"It got wrapped up early," Sherlock says, coming around to see the man sitting in his chair. "Who are you?"

"Oh, hello, young man!" A jolly-looking fellow looks up from his tea. "I'm David McGee, a, uh, friend, of Mrs. Hudson."

"I'm sure," Sherlock mutters sarcastically. "John, could I speak with you in the kitchen for a moment?"

The two walk into the kitchen. Sherlock whispers harshly, "Okay, who is that guy?"

"Probably David McGee?" John tilts his head in confusion.

"Right," Sherlock says sarcastically again. "McGee? That's such a fake name!"

"What are you on about?"

"That bloke out there sipping our tea and sitting in our chairs is not who he says he is! And we have to find who he is and what he wants!"

"Ugh, Sherlock, we just off a case, on where we both could've died!"

"That's true… oh, whatever! He's probably just an old pal of Mrs. Hudson's or something, right?"

"Sure, we'll go with that!"

Sherlock takes one last peek at the man and shrugs. "Eh, seems fine to me. I'm too tired to deduce anything right now."

John nods and walks over to wear the tea is stored. Sherlock rushes over and smiles, saying, "I can make some."

Once again, John tilts his head. "What?"

"I'll make it. You always do. You should just relax. You've had a really tough time," Sherlock says, wiping out the tea packets and starting the stove.

John shrugs, sighs, and sits down at their table, which is laden with samples of something or other. Sherlock walks over to the table and removes his experiments; John probably wants a clean table to sip tea on. Sherlock grabs some biscuits, sets them on a plate, and as the tea comes to a boil, sets everything down on the table.

"Thank-you, but may I ask why you are being so pleasant?" John asks, blowing on his tea, before taking a small sip.

"Well, because I realized that I uh, haven't really always been the nicest to you," Sherlock starts, sitting down across from John with his cup of tea. "I realized that I need to appreciate you more and all that you do. You're always so patient and kind to me and I don't really reciprocate that. I can lighten the load or something. I mean, I don't really do anything all day. I could go grocery shopping? I mean, last time you went, you kind of got into a row with the chip-and-pin machine, didn't you?"

John laughs. "Yeah, I did. That was fun."

Sherlock smiles. "I could do a lot more than I do. I mean, when I thought you were dead, the world went dark, it seemed. I realized then that, you're my best friend and that I should treat you better. Like a real best friend should. I'd die if I lost you, John. "

John grins, getting a mischievous look on his face. "You need me that much, do you?"

Sherlock rolls his eyes. "Yeah, guess I do. You need me too, don't you?"

John nods, smiling. "Yeah. Guess I do, too."

The two smile and relax, sipping tea and chatting as the sun starts to set in 221B Baker Street. Just best friends sipping tea, chatting, and relaxing, as best friends should. John is safe, Moriarty is behind bars, everything is right with the world.

Or so Sherlock thinks.

"You're going to be behind bars for a long time, Jim," Sally says, in the front seat of the police car. "We've finally got you, you bastard."

"Watch your language, sweetheart. Unless you want a good ol' fashion spanking," Moriarty says creepily from the backseat.

"Shut it, Jim!" Lestrade angrily barks from the driver's seat. That was his friend he was talking rudely about! "Or keep talking. Get more time added to your sentence. Be my guest. Take your pick."

"Hmmm, that's a toughie," Moriarty pretends to ponder. "Eh, I'll pick neither, but I'll pick to escape."

"What? Oh my God-"

Moriarty had somehow gotten his handcuffs loose and is now opening the police car door, which he somehow unlocked. After one last menacing smile, he leaps out from the moving car. "Bye-bye!"

"Stop the car!"

When the two police get out of the car, Moriarty is long gone, probably into the dark forest. The sun had set and there is no way they can find him.

"He got away again! It's too dark and that forest is too deep to search. We'd need more people. How does he keep bloody doing that?" Sally whirls around, punching an unknown force in the air with her fist.

"Don't worry. He will do something and we'll catch him again," Lestrade comforts Sally.

"If you say so."

After the two have driven off, a shadow slinks out into the middle of the road. Moriarty grins in triumph.

"Those two idiots haven't gotten me yet, sexy. We can still play our games, Sherlock."

The End

I hope you guys liked this! I worked super hard on this, review, review, review! And tell you friends about my work and have them read my stuff too, please! Thanks for reading! And check out my other stuff too! Thanks soooo much!

Xoxo Amber