A/N: I'd like to explain a little something about this story. Parts will seem bizarre. Not everything will make sense at first if at all. But please rest assured I DO have a plan! Thanks to all who read, review and favorite. Please keep it up, it means a lot! I do read every review even though I don't always get to respond. Theories welcome!
Today's fic rec's:
"An Unlikely Pair" by sherlollyallydoodle
"Who Molly Hooper is" by eccentricpetal
"The Grave Digger" by Chiara Waters
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He left St. Bart's, hailed a taxi, and went to a video store. The clerk raised his eyebrows when Sherlock asked him if he had the movie Love Story, but didn't comment. He tapped his fingers at a terminal for a few seconds and nodded. "Yes, sir, we actually do. If you don't mind it used. Someone brought in a used copy just this morning, it seems. Lucky break for you, eh?"
Lucky indeed, Sherlock thought grimly. "Yes. I'll take it."
Once he had the film, he called John on his new phone and told him he'd just left Molly. "I'm on my way to St. Bart's," John said. "I had an emergency medical matter to attend to first."
Sherlock raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"
"Er… stomach bug," John said.
"Of course," Sherlock murmured.
"How's Molly doing?"
"As well as can be expected considering she was attacked by a sadistic lunatic," Sherlock answered, hoping Moriarty liked the jab.
"God, the poor girl. That bastard. Do you think he's finished with her?"
"Probably not," Sherlock said softly.
John sighed. "Well, hopefully he's not planning on killing her or something…"
"Killing, I highly doubt. At this stage, anyway. As for 'something'… highly likely."
John sighed again. "Well, it's good that people are keeping an eye on her."
"Yes."
"Anyways, where are you? And whose phone is this?" John asked.
"Mine. It's my new phone."
"They couldn't let you keep the same number?"
Sherlock shot up in the seat. "No. What is my new number, by the way?"
John laughed. "If it was anyone but you, I'd ask you how you did it. But you won't even realize why it's funny."
"John, what is the number?" Sherlock asked through clenched teeth.
"It's 867-5309."
Sherlock blinked. "And why is that funny?"
"Well, it's from a pop song. From the 80's. American tune, very popular here as well. It was called 867-5309."
"What was the song about?"
"I don't remember much, Sherlock. Haven't heard it in years. So where are you off to now?"
"Back home. I have a few things to take care of."
"What, you're not going to investigate the scene and such?"
"I need to think. Besides, the scene won't tell me anything now that I don't already know."
"All right, then. I'll see you later on."
Sherlock hung up and leaned forward towards the taxi driver. "Could you turn the radio on to the most popular music station, please? One that plays songs from the 80's, if that's possible."
"No problem, sir," the woman said. There was a slight hiss and crackle, and suddenly the radio came to life.
"And welcome back to the all request and dedication hour. This next song is for Sherlock from someone special. It's a new spin on a classic 80's pop tune: "867-5309."
Sherlock's stomach did a sickening flip. "Turn it up!"
The music started: some simple guitar with a simple catchy beat. But Sherlock wasn't playing much attention to that. He was waiting for the lyrics.
Sherlock, Sherlock, who can I turn to?
You give me something I can hold on to.
I know you think I'm like the others before
Who saw your name and number on the wall.
Sherlock, I've got your number
I mean to make you mine
Sherlock, don't change your number
867-5309, 867-5309
Sherlock's lips drew together in a thin tight line. The second verse came on.
Molly, Molly, you're all the girl for me
You don't know it, but you make me so happy
I tried to call you before, but I lost my nerve
I tried my imagination, but I was disturbed
Molly, I won't change my number
I mean to make you mine
Molly, you've got my number
867-5309, 867-5309
Sherlock realized his hand was shaking and clenched his fist to stop it. As soon as the song finished he called out: "stop! Stop here! Now!"
He jumped out of the taxi, crossed sides to pay, and stared at the driver. It was only then that he realized it wasn't really a woman.
It was him.
Moriarty, wearing a long blonde wig and sunglasses, grinned at him. "No charge! Enjoy the movie!"
He slammed on the gas before Sherlock had a chance to do anything. Again. The license plate on the back of the taxi said 867-5309.
"Really? Eighties pop?" Sherlock shouted after him as loud as he could.
Sherlock hit his fist against his leg. "Damn!" he said angrily, startling a woman pushing a baby stroller along the sidewalk. He gritted his teeth and started the short walk back to Baker Street.
The song "867-5309" is by Tommy Tutone, copyright 1982, Columbia records.