A Wife for Sherlock Holmes
Chapter 21 – Hell Hath No Fury
Sherlock and John walked briskly along the road near the Houses of Parliament and headed to the stairs leading down into Westminster station. They walk across the concourse.
"So it's a bomb, then? A Tube carriage is carrying a bomb."
"Must be." Sherlock nodded.
"Right."John took out his phone.
"What are you doing?"
"Calling the police."
"What? No!" Sherlock said.
"Sherlock, this isn't a game. They need to evacuate Parliament."
"They'll get in the way. They always do. This is cleaner, more efficient." Sherlock reached into his coat and lifted out a crow bar. He wedges it in and pressed a maintenance door back on its hinges.
"And illegal."
"A bit." Sherlock agreed.
The gate opened and Sherlock pulled the gate behind them. They took out torches and looked about at the tunnels. John again checked his phone and there was no signal.
"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked not looking behind him.
"Coming." John said after he sighed.
They walked down several corridors, stairs, and through gates. At long last they walked onto the platform of Sumatra Road station. Sherlock shone his torch along the length of the track beside the platform but there is no sign of a train.
"I don't understand." Sherlock said looking confused.
"Well, that's a first!" John said sarcastically.
"There's nowhere else it could be." He turned to face the track and brought his hands up to either side of his head, screwing his eyes shut and concentrating. In his mind, he found himself sitting on a seat inside the missing Tube carriage. He was the only passenger. At the far end, smoke came under the bottom of the door and poured towards him. He turned his head to look and a fireball ignited behind the smoke and then raced along the carriage, engulfing Sherlock's position and continuing onwards.
Sherlock's mental image of himself relocated to the tunnel about a hundred yards away from the carriage. The inferno billowed out of the carriage toward him, but just before it reached him it is sucked up a large open vent in the ceiling like a chimney. He watched a second before again he was transported to the Palace of Westminster. The heated gas shimmered as it was forced out of air vents. Then from near the Eye across the Thames, the entire of Westminster exploded, blowing out glass and then dropping earthwards as it collapsed on itself.
Sherlock's eyes snapped open in horror. "OH!" He took off, turning left, running down the platform.
"What?" John asked following him.
Sherlock carefully jumped down off the end of the platform onto the tracks.
"Hang on. Sherlock?"
"What?" Sherlock asked turning back to him.
"That's ... Isn't it live?"
Sherlock set off walking down the middle of the track. "Perfectly safe as long as we avoid touching the rails."
"Course, yeah! Avoid the rails. Great!" John said as he jumped down to follow.
"This way." Sherlock said. "Marion told me about Tube rails when she lived in Berlin. The Strassenbahn."
"You sure?"
"Sure."
They did not walk far before they found the missing carriage.
"Ah. Look at that."
They continue on and then Sherlock pauses and shines his torch up at the ceiling. It is an air vent he saw like before. "John."
"Hmm?"
They looked up, both shining their torches and spot the small explosive devices there.
"Demolition charges." John hissed.
They continued toward the carriage. John looked under it as Sherlock looked to the side. Sherlock then opened the door and they climbed in walking along looking at it for any sign of the bomb. John walked clear to the end looking. At the second set of doors, Sherlock paused, something catching his eye.
"It's empty. There's nothing." John said looking about.
"Isn't there?" Sherlock asked as he traced a set of wires he had spotted down to a seat. John pointed his torch downwards as Sherlock gently knelt, shining his light under the cushion. He lifted his head and looked about. "This is the bomb."
"What?"
Sherlock stood up and lifts the cushion all the way up. The cavity underneath was full of wired-up explosives.
"It's not carrying explosives. The whole compartment is the bomb."
They walked along moving cushions revealing identical bomb sets all wired together. While John continued lifting seat cushions, Sherlock looked around the carriage and then took a few steps along the aisle before he realized that a floor panel was loose.
As John looked down at the latest batch of explosives, Sherlock took his gloves off and bent to the panel, forcing his fingers into the gap and lifting it upwards. Underneath was a massive bomb, roughly eight times the size of the others with the same components. While John took several deep nervous breaths, Sherlock propped the panel up against the wall of the train. They both looked down at the massive device, and then John looked up at Sherlock.
"We need bomb disposal."
"There may not be time for that now."
"So what do we do?"
Sherlock looked about. "I have no idea."
"Well, think of something." John barked at him
"Why d'you think I know what to do?" Sherlock asked him,
"Because you're Sherlock Holmes. You're as clever as it gets." John said pointing a finger at him.
"Doesn't mean I know how to defuse a giant bomb. What about you?"
"I wasn't in bomb disposal. I'm a bloody doctor."
Sherlock looked up at him angrily. "And a soldier, as you keep reminding us all."
The clock was frozen at 2:30.
"Can…can't we rip the timer off, or something?"
"That would set it off."
"You see? You know things." John said.
Sherlock turned away and sighed. He then gasped hearing something as he looked down. The countdown clock had turned on and was counting down. John groaned.
"Er ..." Sherlock gasped.
"My God!"
Sherlock paced away. "Er ..."
"Why didn't you call the police?"
"Please just ..."
John glared at him. "Why do you never call the police?"
"Well, it's no use now." Sherlock said spreading his hands
2:15
John was livid. "So you can't switch the bomb off? You can't switch the bomb off and you didn't call the police." He turned away a moment and then back.
"Go, John." He pointed at the door. "Go now."
"There's no point now, is there, because there's not enough time to get away; and if we don't do this ..." He gestured down to the mother bomb, "... other people will die!
1:57
John looked down a moment and then up at Sherlock. "Mind Palace."
"Hmm?"
"Use your Mind Palace."
"How will that help?"
"You've salted away every fact under the sun!"
"Oh, and you think I've just got 'How to Defuse a Bomb' tucked away in there somewhere?"
"Yes!"
Sherlock thought about it a moment. "Maybe."
He brought his fingers up to the side of his head and squeezed his eyes shut.
"Think." John encouraged. Sherlock lifted his head a little. "Think. Please think."
Sherlock groaned.
"Think!"
Sherlock's hands moved away from his face and flailed about a moment, while his eyes remained closed and he continued to make groaning noises. John closed his eyes, shook his head as the noises get louder and finally Sherlock let out a cry and opened his eyes. He breathed heavily for a moment, and then he lowers his hands and looked at John with a blank but apologetic look on his face.
John stared at him in disbelief. "Oh my God."
He turned away. Sherlock tore his scarf from around his neck and doubled over, burying his head in his hands, still making incoherent groaning noises. He dropped to his knees next to the bomb as John wandered a little way down the carriage.
"This is it."John said
Behind him Sherlock was still looking at the bomb
"Um, er ..."
John stopped moving and looked into space. "Oh my God."
Sherlock had reached in, feeling around the bomb. "Turn that off. Oh God! Er, um, er ..." He said.
1:29
John turned back and Sherlock looked up at him.
"I'm sorry."
John winced a little and then looked at him. "What?"
Sherlock looked at him, his voice soft, his eyes filling with tears. "I can't ... I can't do it, John. I don't know how." He straightened up to his knees. "Forgive me?"
"What?" John asked indignantly.
Sherlock brought his hands up to a prayer like position. "Please, John, forgive me ... for all the hurt that I caused you."
"No, no, no, no, no, no. This is a trick."
"No."
"Another one of your bloody tricks."
"No."
"You're just trying to make me say something nice."
Sherlock chuckled lightly. "Not this time."
"It's just to make you look good even though you behaved like ..." He grimaced, fighting back tears, and turned away as he tries to steady his breathing. Sherlock moved away from the bomb and sat on the edge of one of the nearby tip-up seats. John gripped one of the handrails, looking down at the floor, then stamped his foot furiously.
His voice was low but savage as he spoke. "I wanted you not to be dead."
"Yeah, well, be careful what you wish for."
John sighed.
"If I hadn't come back, you wouldn't be standing there and ..." John growled a little and turned away shaking his head lightly. "... you'd still have a future ... with Mary."
"Yeah. I know." He then looked at him. "And you. You are a husband and a father. Marion is never going to forgive us." He grimaced and turned away.
Sherlock clenched his fist against his mouth, and then wiped his nose, his face full of despair.
Finally John turned back. "Look, I find it difficult. Sherlock nodded bowing his head in sorrow. "I find it difficult, this sort of stuff."
Sherlock looked back up. "I know." He sighed. "I would have liked to have met my new little one."
John bowed his head and then looked up at Sherlock, his voice a whisper. "You were the best and the wisest man ..." He sniffled. "... that I have ever known."
Sherlock looked at him, his eyes wide and tear-filled.
John sighed, lowering his head again before raising it once more."Yes, of course I forgive you."
Sherlock gazed at him. John met his eyes for a moment, and then he took in a deep breath through his nose, closed his eyes, raised his head, and braced himself for death.
Nearby it sounded as if Sherlock is crying. His head was lowered and the back of his hand was across his mouth as his body shook with what seem to be sobs. John screwed his eyes even more tightly closed. Sherlock lowered his hand and turned his head away, then turned back, hooting with laughter.
John opened his eyes and looked across to him as Sherlock giggled. John starred at him and stepped forward and looked down at the countdown clock on the large bomb. It was repeatedly flicking back and forth between 1:28 and 1:29. John turned away as if he can't believe it.
He looked up at Sherlock. "You ..."
Sherlock stood up, tears of relief and mirth running down his cheeks."Oh, your face!"
"... utter ..."
"Your face!"
"You …"
Sherlock grinned. "I totally had you."
"You cock! I knew it! I knew it! You f..."
"Oh, those things you said…such sweet things! I-I never knew you cared!"
"I will kill you if you ever breathe a word of this ..."
"Scout's honor." Sherlock said grinning.
"... to anyone. You KNEW!"
"Ahh." He moved to the bomb.
"You knew how to turn it off!" John was livid.
"There's an Off switch."
"What?"
"There's always an Off switch."
John bent to look.
Sherlock stood up again. "Terrorists can get into all sorts of problems unless there's an Off switch."
"So why did you let me go through all that?"
"I didn't lie altogether. I've absolutely no idea how to turn any of these silly little lights off." He chuckled and wiped the tears from his cheeks.
Through the door, the pair could see several torch beams and radio calls.
"Oh!"
"And you did call the police." John hissed at him.
" 'Course I called the police." Sherlock said smiling.
Three armed officers are approaching, flashlights shining from their raised rifles. With them was Marion holding a torch and her Glock in an approved military grip. She was wearing a Kevlar vest and her hair was pulled back for action.
"I'm definitely gonna kill you." John hissed at Sherlock
"Oh, please! Killing me…that's so two years ago." He smiled again and John and moved to open the door. Despite his anger, John let out a breath and chuckled a little.
Sherlock noticed Marion as she stepped into the compartment after one of the men, her weapon pointed downwards as she looked at the boys. "Are you two done goofing around?" She asked looking at them.
"We just saved parliament." Sherlock protested.
"Indeed." She said putting the safety on her weapon before stepping forward and holstering it at her thigh.
"Marion. What the hell are you doing here?" Sherlock asked as she came to them.
"That is a good question. Why are you here?" John asked.
She ignored him and knelt down by the bomb. She stuck her head in and flicked a sharp switchblade from her pocket. "You clearly found the off switch, but if this has a remote detonator there is an override…"
John stared at her. "How the hell would you know about that?"
"Sherlock hold this…right there." She said lifting the torch to him. He took it and held it looking down at her as she clicked the blade to where it had to be. She then sighed leaning down a little. It was not the least bit comfortable, but she knew what needed to be done.
She followed the wires. She cut one the bomb started counting again.
"Uh…Marion…"John said.
"Shut up." She barked at him.
She cut a second and a noise was hard. She traced the connections and then slashed a final wire and the counter went black. She looked up. "It is disarmed." She said sitting up and flicking her blade back. She nodded to the men with her. "Tell Mycroft everyone is safe now."
Sherlock and John stared at her as John helped her to her feet.
She looked at them. "What?" She said.
"You want to explain how?" Sherlock asked. He knew his wife had been the sister to a world renowned bomber and surely she picked some up, but how did she know what to do for this bomb? That was clearly harder than making one…
"Maybe soon. Over dinner? You coming?" she asked as a man helped her down.
John and Sherlock stared after her as she walked back the way they had come. They moved quickly and followed her. Sherlock caught her in a few short strides. "Seriously? You could defuse the bomb?"
"That one was easy, I am sure you English could figure it out which is why Lord Moran had it." She smiled a little and kept walking. "Beside the lever was there for him in case he set it off accidently. Most bombs would not have more than thirty-seconds." She said smiling. "I am sure even the Scotland Yard bomb disposal could have made that in time." She moved away as her husband pondered what she said as she continued.
"Wait, hold on…" John said.
She smiled and kept singing softly the poem for the Gunpowder Plot as she kept going, her lovely voice echoing on the walls.
""Remember, remember!
The fifth of November,
The Gunpowder treason and plot;
I know of no reason
Why the Gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot!
Guy Fawkes and his companions
Did the scheme contrive,
To blow the King and Parliament
All up alive.
Threescore barrels, laid below,
To prove old England's overthrow.
But, by God's providence, him they catch,
With a dark lantern, lighting a match!""
Sherlock and John hopped down to follow her and shook their heads.
ZzZ
Outside the door to 221B, reporters and photographers were milling around in the road. Sherlock was on the phone looking out a moment. The tune to Magical Mr. Mistoffelees.
"Sherlock, please. I beg of you. You can take over at the interval. Or send your lovely wife. They like her…"
Sherlock was in his bedroom and he walked over to the wardrobe mirror and one-handedly buttoned his jacket over the purple shirt he was wearing.
"Oh, I'm sorry, brother dear, but you made a promise. There's nothing I can do to help." He turned back and looked at his wife who was watching him in amusement.
"But you don't understand the pain of it…the horror!"
Sherlock helped his wife to her feet and then clicked the button to end the call. He smirked at his wife who walked before him, or rather waddled before him. With the baby in her hips, it made it hard for her to walk normally, but she managed even if it did look awkward. They still did not know what they were having yet. He suspected she knew, but she didn't let on. All the clothing she had bought was neutral. It wasn't the only thing she hadn't told him. She had not told him everything about her past with her bomber brother, but he accepted what she had to say. She clearly did not wish to talk about it much and it was her past. He was concerned with her future now, their future, together, as man and wife.
He liked being a husband and father, but it was hard for him to admit his feelings at times. He was a guarded person and his wife, also a guarded person, understood that. They could spend hours as the made love talking about the past and the future. He was just content to have her at his side, this curious woman who knew him better than anyone, and yet wasn't scared off.
"Come on. You'll have to go down. They want the story." John said as they came into the room.
Lizzy was standing at the window looking down. "So many daddy."
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "In a minute."
Mary was sitting holding a glass of champagne. Mrs. Hudson was beside her and Greg was occupying John's chair also holding a glass of champagne. Sherlock turned to the kitchen and popped the cork on another bottle and walked across the room with a glass. He knelt and poured a glass.
Marion held apple juice and smiled at him. Sherlock straightened and kissed her cheek before he moved about topping off bottles.
"Oh, I'm really pleased, Mary. Have you set a date?"
"Er, well we thought April." Mary said. She looked at Marion who smiled at her.
"Oh! Spring wedding!"
"Yeah. Well, once we've actually got engaged."
"Yeah." John said.
"We were interrupted last time." She said looking pointedly at Sherlock who smiled at her.
"Yeah."
"Well, I can't wait."He raised his glass in a toast. John smiled at him.
Sherlock walked to the window and looked out over his daughter's shoulder.
"You will be there, Sherlock?" Mary asked.
"Weddings…not really my thing." Sherlock said turning to smile and wink at her.
"By which he means, 'yes'" Marion said looking at him.
He shook his head and smirked. He then lifted his daughter up to his hip. "What do you think?"
"I wanna be a flower girl!"
"Seriously?" Sherlock asked looking at her.
"Then I get flowers and meet Prince Charming…"
"I am going to have to start policing your books young lady…"
"But…"
He clicked his tongue at her and then grinned at her.
The door opened to reveal Molly.
"Hello, everyone."
"Hey, Molly." John smiled at her.
Molly was holding hands with a man who had come with her. "This is Tom."
John looked at the man and almost did a double-take before looking across to where Sherlock was softly laughing at his daughter's antics.
"Tom, this is everyone." Molly said.
"Hi." Tom said. He looked very much like Sherlock, dark reddish hair, shorter perhaps than Sherlock, but tall and slender build. He had pale blue eyes and high prominent cheekbones. He also had a dark overcoat with the collar turned up and a scarf about his neck like Sherlock.
Marion stepped forward. "Hi!" She greeted and hugged him. "A pleasure to finally meet you."
"You must be Marion." Tom smiled at her.
"Hi." Greg said looking up.
"It's really nice to meet you all." He looked at John. "Hi."
John smiled finally as he came back to his senses. "Wow. Yeah, hi. I'm John." He said taking the younger man's hand. "Good to meet you." He looked across to where Sherlock was standing.
"Ready?" Sherlock asked as he set his toddler on her feet.
"Ready." John said.
"I come too daddy?" Lizzy asked.
Sherlock smiled. "If you wish, little duck." He turned her around and tucked in her shirt. "But let's tuck in your tail first."
Tom turned to meet Sherlock, who smiled down at Greg as he walked past him, and then he caught sight of Tom for the first time. He stopped dead and his eyes widened. Tom looked at him equally wide-eyed as Sherlock gave him the once-over from his feet upwards.
"Champagne?" Greg asked.
"Yes." Molly smiled as he lifted the bottle.
Sherlock's jaw dropped open a little and he turned his eyes towards John, who grinned back at him expectantly. Finally Sherlock held out his hand to Tom, and they shook hands. Sherlock glanced down at Molly, and then walked in between the couple and out of the door. Tom turned to watch him go.
Greg handed Molly a glass of champagne."Thanks." She smiled.
John started to follow Sherlock and Lizzy, but stopped briefly to take another look at Tom, who was taking a glass from Greg.
"Thank you." Tom said.
Marion stepped forward. "What do you do Tom?" She said taking his hand and directing him to the center of the group as she nodded to John.
John headed out of the room and closed the door behind him.
"Sit down, love." Mrs. Hudson said.
Tom smiled and joined her. "Oh, thanks."
As he walked to the sofa and sat, Greg looked at Molly. "So, um, is it serious, you two?
"Yeah! I've moved on!" Molly smiled.
Greg cast a look to Marion who smiled a little as she put a hand on her belly watching as Tom had already launched into a conversation with Mary and Mrs. Hudson.
Outside on the landing, John walked over to Sherlock, who was looping his scarf around his neck. Sherlock then knelt to help Lizzy into her coat and she giggled wrapping her own scarf like her daddy. Sherlock smiled. Oh this little one was going to be a handful the older she got.
John pointed back towards the door. "Did you, er ...?"
"I'm not saying a word."Sherlock said straightening and talking Lizzy's hand.
"No, best not."
Sherlock looked down at how he has just tied his scarf, and then threw up his hand with an exasperated expression and sighed.
John looked at the door again and turned back to Sherlock. "I'm still waiting."
"Hmm?" Sherlock asked as he pulled a hat onto his daughter's head and pulled it down to far making her giggle and bat at him.
"Why did they try and kill me? If they knew you were on to them, why go after me…put me in the bonfire?"
Sherlock picked up his coat and put it on. "I don't know. I don't like not knowing." He moved to the stairs with his daughter before him and John behind. "Unlike the nicely embellished fictions on your blog, John, real life is rarely so neat."
John stopped a couple of steps from the bottom.
"I don't know who was behind all this, but I will find out, I promise you." Sherlock said as he pulled his gloves on and then reached down and lifted his daughter onto his arm. She sat and hugged him relaxing in his arms.
John smiled. The man really was amazing with kids. "Don't pretend you're not enjoying this."
Sherlock asked not looking at him. "Hmm?" He asked tying the little girl's hat about her chin with his free hand and making sure her coat was buttoned.
"Being back. Being a hero again."
"Oh, don't be stupid."
"You'd have to be an idiot not to see it. You love it."
Sherlock turned to face him. "Love what?"
"Being Sherlock Holmes." John said stepping down fully to the floor.
"I don't even know what that's supposed to mean." Sherlock said looking at his daughter. "Do you know what that means?"
She shook her head, her thick locks bouncing from under her hat.
Sherlock smiled and kissed her cheek and then walked down the hall a little.
"Sherlock, you are gonna tell me how you did it? How you jumped off that building and survived?"
Sherlock paused by the door. "You know my methods, John. I am known to be indestructible."
"No, but seriously. When you were dead, I went to your grave."
"I should hope so."
"I made a little speech. I actually spoke to you."
Sherlock turned to him. "I know. I was there."
"I asked you for one more miracle. I asked you to stop being dead."
"I heard you." Sherlock said softly looking back at him. He then looked at his friend a moment before he took a breath and turned around looking at his daughter. "Ready?"
She giggled and looked at him. "Daddy!"
"Anyway, time to go and be Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock said as he smiled and started toward the door, but then hesitated for a moment and reached to the coat rack. Taking his deerstalker from its peg, he put it onto his head and tugged it into position.
Lizzy clapped her hands in delight and pulled on it a little. "Now you are Sherlock Daddy!" She giggled at him.
He smiled at her and opened the door went out to meet the reporters as they gathered round him, taking photos and shouting questions at him. John closed the door and stepped to his side. Lizzy smiled as she held her head on her father's shoulder as he spoke to the men and women.
Above Marion watched and smiled.