Chapter 20

The Heart of Mr Holmes

"COME ON JOHN!" Sherlock bellowed darting out of the kitchen grabbing his coat and slinging it over himself as he sprinted out of the flat after Page. John was close behind and the pair of them entered the cold and bitter night. The black car had just turned left out of Baker Street and Sherlock was already halfway down the street by the time John had managed to catch a breath. "JOHN, THEY'VE HEADED STRAIGHT FOR ROADWORKS- THIS GIVES US TIME...LETS NOT WAIST IT ON YOU CATCHING YOUR BREATHS- COME ON, NOW!" Sherlock bellowed still running for dear life. "WE NEED TO GET PAST THESE ROADWORKS AND CATCH A TAXI TO TRAFALGAR SQUARE!" Sherlock had disappeared around the corner and John picked up his pace and ran after him.

They caught a taxi just passed the road works; they were one up on Moriarty already- because Page was behind them, stuck in traffic. Sherlock was silent, his mind on Page. All he saw was her smiling face. Then her sad face- like the time he'd rejected her and she left London. Reject...that was all she was used to. He'd deduced that a long time ago, though he'd always kept it to himself. Though normally he would have come out with it and upset her...something prevented him to hurt her. Though it wasn't like he'd never hurt her before. She'd asked for his love long ago- they'd barely met at the time. He remembered it well. Sherlock Holmes... hadn't a heart. He remembered her words...

"You wouldn't know love if it hit you in face, you don't know how to love, you don't know how to care, your so empty aren't you Sherlock. I can see through you, you're empty and dead."

The taxi came to halt and Sherlock burst out and left John to pay the fare and hop out after him. He strode past the fore lions and past the two fountains and made his way behind the Art Gallery, John quickly made his way up behind him.

"Why are we here?" John whispered.

"Because this is the only place out of all the photos that Moriarty hasn't committed a murder, Page is his next murder and it's going to be here...her favourite place in the entire world." Sherlock spoke the words out of triumph, the night was cold and nobody was about...the perfect spot for a quiet murder.

"Yes, but the murders were all exactly a mile from the attractions on the photos." John shrugged, how could Sherlock forget that? Sherlock turned on his heel with a chuckle.

"Correct, however...this is her favourite place...this is where the finale murder is about to commence. Though...I'll stop it." Sherlock hurried his words waiting for Page or Moriarty to turn up. "Don't look so confused...shush." He hissed suddenly and John reached into his pocket for his handgun. Footsteps echoed through the night...John stared at the wall, a shadow of a man making his way towards them got closer and closer.

"SHERLOCK!" A familiar gay high-pitched Irish voice spat out into the night and Moriarty appeared...Page in his grasp, tape around her mouth and rope around her hands. Tears streamed from her eyes and it pained Sherlock...it pained him so bad. "You're just in time for the party!" Moriarty giggled pushing Page to the floor, she fell and hit her head hard on the gravel.

"You took your time Moriarty." The name curled around Sherlock's tongue and he removed his handgun from his pocket and kept it out-stretched and pointed at Moriarty.

"I wouldn't do that..." Moriarty chuckled quietly to himself, that's when a red dot hit Sherlock's, John's and Page's chest. "You see, this time you will die." Moriarty spat and faced Page. "She was too weak for this." He waved his hand, signalling for his men to shoot her. Sherlock bound forwards despite knowing this move could finish him off. "GOT YOU!" Moriarty laughed aloud and screwed up his face at Sherlock and burst out with another giggle. The only light which was lit was the nearby street lights which flickered a bright orange. Sherlock sighed with anger and frustration. Then...the sound of police cars flew through the night. John tried to stop himself from looking to smug. Thank goodness Lestrade had told him what to do if they ever got into a situation like this.

"I know what that Sherlock's like, if you ever get into trouble, dial my number, let it ring and hang up. I've got your mobile on a tracker...we'll be with you as soon as." Lestrade promised John when Sherlock had left Scotland Yard leaving him behind one time.

John secretly removed his mobile from behind his back and placed it back in his pocket without Moriarty knowing. Moriarty closed his eyes for a second and the streetlights flickered violently and switched off leaving them in the darkness. The sound of the police cars started to get louder and within the next minute the street lights had come back on and Moriarty was nowhere to be seen. Sherlock was at Page's side in an instant, tearing at the knots around her hands and removing the tape from her lips. She gasped out with relief and threw her arms around his neck. He cradled her close and held onto her tight. John stayed put and turned his eyes away- giving them a little privacy. You didn't have to be Sherlock Holmes to know that they both had feelings for one another. Sherlock felt a small tear of relief fly down his cheek as he hugged her tightly, refusing to let her go.

"I love you Sherlock Holmes." He heard her whisper into his ear. Sherlock slowly withdrew and stared into her dark eyes.

"You're one of a kind Page, one of a kind." He chuckled and then as if by magic he leant closer towards her and then...their lips touched and they held onto to each other and held the kiss. Page's heart beat rapidly and her stomach did summersaults. She truly loved him. Sherlock on the other hand didn't know what to think, he felt something, something that he'd never felt r fully experienced before. He guessed that the feelings he felt for her had to be love.

"SHERLOCK!"

*BANG*