Vivian glanced at the newcomer as the woman stopped a few feet beside Sherlock, who greeted without looking at the blonde woman: "Hello, Mary."
"Hey." Mary greeted, and Sherlock asked: "John?"
"On his way." Mary replied. "Marie?"
"Should be here soon as well." Sherlock confirmed, before he nodded at Vivian as he added with false politeness: "Let me introduce Amo."
Mary's face instantly darkened, and she stared at Vivian as she asked in disbelief: "You were Amo?"
Mary's face contorted, and she checked: "You were the person on the phone that time?"
"Using AGRA as her private assassination unit." Sherlock commented flatly, and Mary demanded: "Why did you betray us?"
"Why does anyone do anything?" Vivian shrugged, and Sherlock said sarcastically: "Oh, let me guess. Selling secrets?"
"Well, it would be churlish to refuse." The old woman answered with an easy shrug, looking at Sherlock. "Worked very well for a few years. I bought a nice cottage in Cornwall on the back of it. M was very generous."
"M… Moriarty?" Sherlock asked, cocking his head. He hadn't thought there might be that connection in this case… but, then again, it seemed that all their fates were inexplicably and irrevocably tied to one another.
"Oh, wouldn't you like to know." Vivian answered with a sniff, before she continued with a grimace: "But the ambassador in Tbilisi found out. I thought I'd had it."
She looked briefly at Mary before she turned back to Sherlock as she went on: "Then she was taken hostage in that coup."
Vivian laughed, saying in amazement even now: "I couldn't believe my luck! That bought me a little time."
"But then you found out your boss had sent AGRA in." Sherlock commented calmly, and Vivian said with a touch of derision: "Very handy. They were always such reliable killers."
"What you didn't know, Mary," Sherlock murmured to Mary as Mary smiled back mirthlessly, "was that this one also tipped off the hostage-takers."
Mary turned and stared at him, her eyes reflecting her shock at this new revelation.
"Lady Smallwood gave the order," Vivian told Mary at last as the old woman settled back on the bench with her handbag on her lap, "but I sent another one to the terrorists with a nice little clue about her code name should anyone have an enquiring mind. Seemed to do the trick."
"And you thought your troubles were over." Mary murmured bitterly, her eyes just a little shiny with tears as she remembered her team who had had to suffer, both during and after the incident, according to Ajay.
"I was tired." Vivian sighed, looking at Mary. "Tired of the mess of it all."
She sighed, closing her eyes briefly as she murmured: "I just wanted some peace, some clarity. The hostages were killed, AGRA too."
She looked right at Mary as she added: "Or so I thought. My secret was safe."
She sighed again.
"But apparently not." She murmured, looking at Sherlock. "M told me you were close to catching on to me. But I'm so tired, tired of looking out for Death."
She took a deep breath before murmuring: "Just a little peace. That's all you wanted too, wasn't it?" She nodded at Mary. "A family, home. Really, I understand."
Mary glanced at Sherlock, fighting back her anger, but he was keeping his hand on Vivian. Or more specifically, on the hand she kept on top of her open handbag.
The old woman made to stand up, getting ready to leave as she told the pair before her firmly: "So just let me get out of here, right? Let me just walk away. I'll vanish; I'll go forever."
She looked at them expectantly. 'What d'you say?"
"After what you did?!" Mary snarled, starting forwards, and Sherlock called her sharply: "Mary, no!"
Instantly, Vivian stood, pulling a pistol from her handbag and pointing it right at Mary. The ex-assassin stopped instantly, backing away beside Sherlock once more as she said with forced calm: "Okay."
The three stood in a standoff, Vivian's gun aimed at Mary while the blonde woman and Sherlock continued to watch the old woman with narrowed eyes.
221B Baker Street
"Sorry, Molly, thank you so much!" Marie said hurriedly as the other woman hurried into her flat, carrying little Rosie. "I'm sorry, I'll explain everything later!"
"Don't worry, go!" Molly said quickly, moving out of the way as Marie blurred out the door and ran down the stairs.
Her phone rang as she was running, and she answered swiftly: "Mycroft?"
"Have you left the flat yet?" He asked, and Marie replied as she climbed into the waiting cab beside John: "I have now."
"Go!" John ordered the cabbie, and they took off down the road once more as Mycroft warned: "Hurry, Marie. Vivian Norbury was never an agent but she received basic training, as did all our personnel. And as cornered as she will be, we will need you to be there."
"Stop wasting time telling me what I already know, Mycroft, and hurry up and get there before my husband ends up killing himself." Marie snapped back, hanging up while John glanced at her.
She met his gaze, and nodded, and the pair turned back to face the front as they waited anxiously for the cab to reach the London Aquairum.
Sea Life London Aquarium
Vivian looked down at her pistol, examining it as she commented almost casually: "I was never a field agent. I always thought I'd be rather good."
Mary scoffed, incredulous and disgusted, while Sherlock commented neutrally: "Well, you handled the operation in Tbilisi very well."
Vivian smiled, and she answered almost smugly: "Thanks."
"For a secretary." Sherlock added flatly, and Vivian's smile disappeared instantly.
"What?" She asked in a flat tone.
"Can't have been easy all those years," Sherlock commented darkly, "sitting in the back keeping your mouth shut when you knew you were cleverer than most of the people in the room."
"I didn't do this out of jealousy!" Vivian scoffed, but Sherlock countered: "No?"
His eyes were cold as he listed: "Same old drudge, day in, day out, never getting out there where all the excitement was. Just back to your little flat on Wigmore Street."
Vivian let out a tiny gasp, mouthing silently, while Sherlock explained: "They've taken up the pavement outside the Post Office there. The local clay on your shoes is very distinctive."
He nodded just slightly at her shoes as he added almost derisively to Vivian's silent question: "Yes, your little flat."
"How do you know?" Vivian demanded defensively, and Sherlock fired off: "Well, on your salary it would have to be modest and you spent all the money on that cottage, didn't you, and what are you, widowed or divorced?"
His eyes narrowed on the gold wedding band sitting on the index finger of her left hand as he pointed out: "Wedding ring's at least thirty years old and you've moved it to another finger. That means you're sentimentally attached to it but you're not still married."
His eyes moved on as he continued: "I favour widowed, given the number of cats you share your life with-"
"Sherlock." Mary warned as she watched Vivian, but he ignored her as he went on over her: "-Two Burmese and a tortoiseshell, judging by the cat hairs on your cardigan."
Vivian glanced at said article of clothing before looking back at Sherlock as he added: "A divorcee's more likely to look for a new partner; a widow to fill the void left by her dead husband."
"Sherlock, don't." Mary tried to warn again, but Sherlock continued, speaking faster and faster as his voice also rose: "Pets do that, or so I'm told, and there's clearly no-one new in your life, otherwise you wouldn't be spending your Friday nights in an aquarium."
Vivian had tensed incredibly by now, but Sherlock was merciless as he fired off: "That probably accounts for the drink problem, too: the slight tremor in your hand," he glanced briefly at her shaking gun hand, "the red wine stain ghosting your top lip."
His eyes were narrowed and cold as he concluded: "So yes. I say jealousy was your motive after all. To prove how good you are."
Vivian's gaze flickered to the side as she heard footsteps approaching, and her whole expression tightened as she saw Mycroft step in.
"To make up for the inadequacies of your little life." Sherlock finished, and Vivian glared a little at him just as Lestrade came in behind Mycroft, followed by three uniformed police officers.
"Well, Mrs Norbury." Mycroft greeted emotionlessly. "I must admit this is unexpected."
"Vivian Norbury," Sherlock said, his tone dripping sarcasm and derision, "who outsmarted them all. All except Sherlock Holmes."
Vivian stared at him, her lips pursed, and Sherlock took a step forward, holding out his left hand. Mary and the officers also stepped forward as Sherlock said quietly but firmly: "There's no way out."
"So it would seem." Vivian answered as she was cornered in the small alcove, but she smiled slightly as she looked at Sherlock only. "You've seen right through me, Mr. Holmes."
"It's what I do." Sherlock answered, just a little smug, and Vivian cocked her head.
"Maybe I can still surprise you." She said almost thoughtfully, before she suddenly lifted her gun and aimed it right at Sherlock.
The whole room tensed instantly, while Lestrade said sharply: "Come on. Be sensible."
Sherlock had spread his hands slightly in a sign of passive surrender, as they all watched Vivian, the whole room on edge. The old woman shook her head just slightly.
"No, I don't think so." She stated, and before anyone could react she fired the gun.
No-one could have stopped it; no-one… except Mary.
Sherlock's eyes widened as blonde hair flew before his face, slightly lower than his eye level, before Mary was crashing down onto the nearby bench, landing with a gasp as blood blurted from the centre of her shirt.
"Surprise." Vivian bit out bitterly, while Mary gasped and two police officers hurried over to Vivian.
They disarmed her and were just placing her under arrest as Marie came racing into the alcove, having sprinted ahead when she heard the gunshot.
Her eyes swept around swiftly, pausing on Sherlock and then stopping on Mary, and green eyes widened in horror.
Sherlock seemed to have gone into shock as he stared at Mary, but Marie didn't freeze.
"You!" Marie snarled as she turned narrowed eyes, dark with rage, and her own gun on Vivian.
The old woman looked faintly surprised and alarmed, while Lestrade called quickly: "Marie, don't!"
"Marie-" Mycroft stared as well in concern, when Mary whimpered: "No… Marie…"
Marie's head snapped to her friend, her face scrunching with pain as she dropped her gun and fell to her knees beside Mary. Mary's voice seemed to wake Sherlock up as well, and he was beside Marie in an instant, pressing his gloved hand against Mary's wound as he murmured: "Everything's fine. It's gonna be okay."
"Get an ambulance!" Marie ordered Mycroft. "Now!"
Mycroft nodded, turning and hurrying away quickly just as John finally ran in behind Marie, while Lestrade ushered his men and Vivian out, the DI staying behind warily.
"It's all right, it's all right." Sherlock was trying to say comfortingly to Mary, as John's eyes fell on them.
"Mary!" He cried, rushing over and falling to his knees on Mary's other side.
"John." Mary whimpered, breathing heavily while Marie's eyes filled with tears. She wasn't going to make it – Marie had seen too many injuries and wounds to be disillusioned by false hope.
Sherlock had moved aside for John, moving behind Marie as John replaced his own hand over Mary's bleeding wound, applying pressure to it and holding her head with his left hand as he asked desperately: "Mary? Mary?"
Mary just looked at him, unable to stop her whimpers and gasps, as John whispered urgently: "Stay with me. Stay with me."
"Oh, come on." Mary got out between gasps as John tried to reassure her: "No, don't worry. Don't worry."
"Oh, come on, Dr.," Mary whimpered, her voice breaking, "you can do better than that. "
"Come on, Mary." John pleaded, and Mary sobbed as she looked at him with tear-filled eyes.
"Mary, come on." John begged, and Mary whimpered: "God, John, I think this is it."
"No-no-no-no, it's not." John argued, glancing at Mary's wound before looking back at Mary as she gasped: "Marie knows it, Dr., so should you."
She sobbed while Marie stared at Mary with an ashen expression.
"No, no." John tried to protest, but Mary whimpered over him: "You made me so happy."
"I know." John answered, trying to force a smile for Mary as she spoke around her own tears: "You gave me everything I could ever, ever…"
"Sh, sh." John hushed, his own voice breaking, while Mary got out painfully: "Want."
"Mary, Mary…" John whispered, hushing her as he ran his hand gently over her forehead, and Mary got out through sobs: "Look after Rosie."
"Sh, sh. "John pleaded, but Mary begged: "Promise me."
"I promise." John whispered, and Mary sobbed: "No."
"Yes, I promise." John said louder, and Mary cried: "Promise me!"
"I promise. I promise." John promised, staring at Mary pleadingly as Marie clasped a hand over her mouth, pressing back her own tears.
Sherlock stayed behind her silently as Mary stroked John's face softly before looking over blearily to the side.
"Hey, Sherlock." She called through her own tears, and Sherlock got out, his voice cracking just slightly: "Yes?"
"I ... so like you." Mary told him, just as Mycroft returned, staying back and giving them privacy as Mary whimpered: "Did I ever say?"
Sherlock held back his own tears as he tried to smile at the dying woman, answering in confirmation: "Yes. Yes, y-you did."
Mary whimpered before getting out: "I like… you two, Marie. I'm sorry ... for shooting Sherlock that time. I'm really sorry."
"Don't." Marie whispered, stroking Mary's free hand as she fought back her tears. "I never held it against you."
"I think we're even now, okay?" Mary whimpered, and Marie whispered: "More than even, Mary."
Mary choked with pain, and John said urgently: "Mary. Mary."
"Look after… our… boys… and Rosie… for me." Mary gasped out, and Marie nodded silently, a tear slipping down her cheek as Mary turned to John, who was trying so hard to keep her there with them for a little longer.
Mary was gasping, every breath filled with pain, but she stared John in the eye as she got out through her pain and sobs: "You... You were my whole world."
John grimaced, rearing his head back as he shut his eyes against his own despairing pain before looking back at Mary as he fought back his tears desperately for Mary's sake as Mary whimpered: "Being Mary Watson… was the only life… worth living."
"Mary." John murmured, and Mary whispered: "Thank you."
Her head dropped, and Mary gasped out her last breath.
The tears were now falling freely down Marie's face as she stared at her friend, while John whispered: "Mary."
Sherlock and Mycroft could only stand and watch while Marie bowed her head as John slowly reached over and checked for a pulse on Mary's neck, looking as though he were cradling his wife's head as he searched for something that was no longer there. Finally, John's head dropped and Sherlock could only watch, mostly in stunned disbelief, as John let out the most heartbreaking, almost animalistic howls from between clenched teeth.
Sherlock reached out a hand hesitantly, but before he could even come close, John finally lifted his head, staring at Sherlock with a face full of despair and vicious rage.
"Don't you dare." He hissed, and Sherlock paused, staring back at John uncertainly.
Marie looked at John, drawing in a sharp breath as John hissed almost savagely at Sherlock in a low voice: "You made a vow… You swore it."
Sherlock's eyes widened and he took a stunned step back, when Marie's hand gripped his tightly. He couldn't look down, and she didn't look up as she held his hand while he clutched hers as a lifeline as behind them Lestrade also tensed from the appalling scene before them before glancing at Mycroft.
Mycroft met his gaze before looking down as John, tears streaming down his face, turned back to Mary, hugging her close as he whimpered: "Mary."
Marie slowly stood, unable to stay any longer, and she took Sherlock with her as they slowly backed up, their hands clenched tightly together as they held each other from breaking down.
