(221B. Sherlock leads John, Sarah and me into the living room and immediately stares at the pictures over the fireplace as he takes his coat off. John and Sarah talk in a corner quietly as I stand next to Sherlock looking at the pictures as well)

Sherlock: Are you alright?

(I didn't even notice when Sherlock looked at me)

(Y/N): Of course. Why wouldn't I be-?

Sherlock: *quickly* You have just killed a man

(Y/N): Well yeah....but he wasn't really a good man was he?

Sherlock: No...he wasn't

(Sherlock's lips curve into a small smile as he looks at the pictures again and his usual serious poker face goes on again)

John: They'll be back in China by tomorrow.

Sherlock: No, they won't leave without what they came for. We need to find their hide-out; the rendezvous.

(He walks closer to the photos, staring at them intensely. John also joins us and also gazes at the pictures while Sarah hovers nearby, forgotten by us. Sherlock runs his fingers over the main picture of the painted brick wall.)

Sherlock: Somewhere in this message it must tell us.

(We fall silent. Sarah looks at us for a moment, then realises that she is surplus to requirements.)

Sarah: Well, I think perhaps I should leave you to it.

John: No, no, you don't have to go ... (he looks round at Sherlock) ... does she? (He turns back to Sarah.) You can stay.

Sherlock (simultaneously): Yes, it would be better to study if you left now.

(He looks round pointedly at Sarah, while John throws a dark look at him before turning back to her.)

(Y/N): It's fine...Sarah, we would love to have you around here longer. Ignore him

John: He's kidding. Please stay if you'd like.

(Sarah looks nervously towards Sherlock, who has already turned back to the photographs. She smiles awkwardly and tries what she thinks is a friendly approach.)

Sarah: Is it just me, or is anyone else starving?

Sherlock (sighing and closing his eyes in exasperation): Ooh, God.

(I got Sherlock slightly on his shoulder and whisper)

(Y/N): Behave...

(He rolls his eyes at me, of course)

Shortly afterwards, John opens the fridge to find it almost empty apart from a couple of bottles, a can, and what might well be an eyeball lying on a shelf. He sighs.
In the living room, Sherlock has sat down at the dining table which is covered with photos, notes and drawings of various pictograms. I decide to go downstairs to my flat and bring up some food. I open the door to my flat, turn in the lights and open my fridge. There was some frozen pasta which I made earlier so we can heat it up in the oven and bon appetit for us. I go back upstairs to the kitchen so that Sarah doesn't notice me carrying around food, and I suppose Mrs.Hudson also had the same idea to bring up some food for poor old John. I notice Sherlock sitting at his table beside the window as he rummages through the pictures, Sarah stands nearby, looking at all the pictures stuck to the mirror.

Mrs Hudson: Ooh-ooh!

(John looks up and his face fills with grateful delight as we both come in carrying some food.)

Mrs Hudson (whispering): I've done punch, and a bowl of nibbles.

(She puts the tray on the table and takes off the tea towel to reveal a jug of punch with slices of fruit floating on top, two glasses, a bowl of crisps and another bowl presumably containing some dip.)

(Y/N): Sorry...I only got some pasta and brought some fresh cheese as well

John (softly): Mrs Hudson, you're a saint! (Y/N)! Your an angel in my life!

Mrs Hudson (whispering): If it was Monday, I'd have been to the supermarket!

(Y/N): *Giggles* No problem

John (whispering): No; thank you! Thank you!

(Back in the living room, Sherlock is just about to commit murder as Sarah picks up the photograph of the brick wall which Dimmock had brought back sealed in an evidence bag. He glares at her in utter fury and then turns his head away, his teeth bared.)

Sarah (oblivious to his rage): So these numbers - it's a cipher.

Sherlock (tightly): Exactly.

Sarah: And each pair of numbers is a word.

(Sherlock's head slowly lifts.)

Sherlock: How did you know that?

(For the first time he turns and meets her eyes.)

Sarah: Well, two words have already been translated, here.

(She puts the picture down on the desk and points. Sherlock takes the photo from her and stares at it.)

Sherlock: John. (Y/N)?

John: Mmm?

(Y/N): What?

(He looks round from the kitchen table.)

Sherlock (standing up): Look at this.

(He takes the photo out of the evidence bag as John and I come out of the kitchen.)

Sherlock: Soo Lin at the museum - she started to translate the code for us. We didn't see it!

(Written in fine pen, a word has been written across each of the first two sets of symbols on the photograph. Sherlock reads them out.)

Sherlock: "NINE," "MILL."

John (squinting at the photo): Does that mean 'millions'?

Sherlock (thoughtfully): Nine million quid. For what?

(He turns and goes over to where he had dumped his coat and scarf.)

Sherlock: We need to know the end of this sentence.

John: Where are you going?

Sherlock (putting on his coat): To the museum; to the restoration room.

(He grimaces in exasperation at himself.)

Sherlock: Oh, we must have been staring right at it!

John: At-at what?

Sherlock: The book, John. The book - the key to cracking the cipher!

(He brandishes the photo at John.)

Sherlock: Soo Lin used it to do this! Whilst we were running around the gallery, she started to translate the code. It must be on her desk.

(And he's gone, hurrying out the door.)

(I waved my hand at John signalling him to stay here with Sarah as I go after the crazy detective)

Out on Baker Street, Sherlock bursts out of the door of 221B, running towards the kerb to hail a passing black cab.

Sherlocl: Taxi!

(I follow after him and call out)

(Y/N): Sherlock!!

(As he sweeps past some tourists, he brushes past hard enough to break the man's hold on a book, which falls to the ground. The man yells at him indignantly in German.)

TOURIST: Hey, du! Siehst du nicht wo du hingehst? [Hey, you! Why don't you look where you're going?]

(Sherlock turns back and picks up the book, handing it back to the man.)

SHERLOCK: Entschuldigen Sie, bitte. [Forgive me, please.]

TOURIST (snarkily, snatching the book back): Ja, danke(!) [Yeah, thanks(!)]

(He turns away, putting his arm around his wife and still bitching.)

TOURIST: Und dann sagen die, dass die Engländer höflich sind! [And they say the English are polite!]

(Sherlock turns and raises his arm to the cab again but it has already driven past. He grunts in exasperation and walks down the road, looking over his shoulder to check traffic coming from behind him.)

(Y/N): Sherlock, relax would you?

Sherlock: I have to go to the museum and decipher this! God how could I have been so blind?!

(Y/N): Well there's a first time for everything

(He looks at me with a dark face)

(Y/N): Chill out, would you? We'll find the message

After a few yards, he stop and turns back again, grunting angrily a second time when no cabs magically materialise for him. Looking up and down the road, we see an Asian couple, possibly father and daughter, standing at the corner over the road and consulting an A-Z as they too try to work out their route. My eyes narrows, as I have a flashback in my mind to walking across Lukis' living room and looking at The London A-Z that was on the top book on the pile. I flash back further into the past and remember seeing a pile of books in Van Coon's living room. The third book down on the pile was the London A-Z. Then I remember turning around from the crates in Sherlock's living room and staring at his bookcase.)

Sherlock : A book that everybody would own.

(I look at Sherlock and so does he and I knew instantly that we were both thinking the same)

Our mouths open in startled realisation and we break into a run, chasing back towards the German couple.)

Sherlock (shouting): Please, wait! Bitte! [Please!]

(Y/N); Excuse me, Sir?!

(The tourists turn back and frown in confusion as we hurry towards them.)

MALE TOURIST: Was wollt er? Was will er? [{Anarion says that the first sentence makes no sense at all, but the second sentence translates to:} What does he want?]

(Sherlock runs up to them and snatches the A-Z from the man's hands and turns away, looking down at the book.)

TOURIST: Hey, du! Was macht du? [Hey, you! What are you doing?]

Sherlock (turning back to him momentarily): Minute! [{This loosely translates as} Wait a minute!]

TOURIST (angrily): Gib mir doch mein Buch zurück! [Give me back my book!]

(Ignoring him, Sherlock turns his back on the couple again and opens the book. I take out the small notpad and pen from my pocket and wait for Sherlock to start decoding the message. The tourist's waves his hand in exasperation at the crazy Englander, the man puts his arm around his wife and they walk away.)

On the street, Sherlock is flicking through the pages of the A-Z.

Sherlock: Page fifteen, entry one. Page fifteen, entry one ...

(He has turned to the correct page and looks at the first entry on that index page. It reads "Deadmans Lane NW9." He lifts his head.)

Sherlock: Dead man.

(I write down dead man on my notebook as I wait for the next word)

(Y/N): They were threatening to kill them

(He takes the photograph of the message sprayed on the brick wall out of his coat pocket and unfolds it. With the first two words already translated, he looks at the third pair of symbols and then starts flicking to the correct page in the book.)

Sherlock : Thirty-seven, nine; thirty-seven, nine ...

(The appropriate entry on that page reads "Fore St EC2.")

(I write down the word "For" in my notebook)

Sherlock: Nine mill ... for ...

On the street, Sherlock and I are still translating the symbols.

Sherlock: Sixty, thirty-five.

(On the relevant page, the appropriate entry reads "Jade Cl. E16.")

Sherlock: Jade. (He writes on the photograph as he says the word again.) Jade.

(And again I write the word down)

On the street, Sherlock turns to the page for the final word. Finding the correct entry, I write "TRAMWAY" on my notebook and give it to him and then reads the whole message aloud.

Sherlock: "NINE MILL FOR JADE PIN DRAGON DEN BLACK ... (he raises his head and stares ahead of him) ... TRAMWAY."

(Y/N): Tramway? Is that their rendezvous point?

(Without wasting another second, Sherlock runs towards the door of 221B as I run after him as well. He dashes upstairs while calling John)

Sherlock: John! John! I've got it!

(We run in through the kitchen door, and see nobody there and so we run into the living room, as Sherlock brandishes the A-Z.)

Sherlock: The cipher! The book! It's the London A to Z that they're using...

(He trails off before he can finish the last word, as I also stare in shock when we see that yellow paint has been sprayed across the living room windows. On the left-hand window is the sort-of upside down eight with an almost horizontal line above it. On the right-hand window is the single almost horizontal slash. Together they spell out "DEAD MAN." There is no sign of John or Sarah. Sherlock stares at the paint in horror equally as I was)

(Sherlock looks at me as I do as well)

(Y/N): They...took them...

Sherlock hurries over to the bookcase.

Sherlock: Tramway.

(As if he has lost control of his usual razor-sharp brain in his fear for his friend, he stares at the books on the shelf for a few moments while he tries to find what he wants.)

(Y/N): I got it

(I shout out when I found the London map)

SHERLOCK (faintly, under his breath): Oh, Christ.

(I open the map and spread it out over the dining table as Sherlock runs his finger over it and then stabs at a certain point)

Sherlock: There.
(He turns to face me and whispers)

Sherlock: Mrs. Hudson

(Omg...)

(I run out the door and down the stairs to the kitchen)

(Y/N): Mrs. Hudson?! Are you alright?

(Sh jumped a little when she saw me as I sighed in relief)

Mrs. Hudson: Oh my dearie...you made me jump! Is everything okay? I heard some strange noise from upstairs, I was in the washroom

(Y/N): Oh my God.. John...

(I hear Sherlock running down the stairs as well as he calls out my name)

Sherlock: (Y/N)!!! Come on!!

(I run out of the kitchen as I see Sherlock running out the door. He waves for a taxi to come towards us and gets in it instantly, and I follow him inside)

Sherlock and I are in the back of a taxi, he looks around anxiously as the cab progresses through the streets.

(I hold his hand lightly and notice that it was very cold)

(He looked startled for a second and turned his eyes on me, not saying a word)

(Y/N): It'll be okay, John's fine, we'll find him and Sarah

(Sherlock nods quickly and looks out the window again in fear. Ita obvious that he cares alot Abt John, which I didn't really expect from the heartless detective. Well....I suppose he's not completely heartless.)

(What was even more strange is that he didn't push away my hand, he kept it rather very still as I held onto in, giving my warmth)

(We arrived in front of a dark tunnel and get out of the cab as I payed the driver. We slowly go towards it, crouching down a bit)

Sherlock: Just stay behind me

(I nod at him as we both enter the tunnel)

(As we walk inside the darkness, there was light coming from the other side and that's when I saw John and Sarah tied to some chairs. Sarah was in front of the arrow machine we saw in the circus earlier, and the sandbag was almost empty. Sarah was crying as John kept shouting "I'm not Sherlock Holmes!" They think he's Sherlock???)

(We go quietly inside as John shouts out again as Sherlock and I take shelter behind some barrels)

John: I'm not Sherlock Holmes!

Shan: I don't believe you.

Sherlock : You should, you know.

(Shan spins around pointing her gun in our direction)

Sherlock: Sherlock Holmes is nothing at all like him.

(Shan raises her pistol, cocks it [again] and aims it towards him. He immediately dodges to the side of the tunnel, disappearing into the shadows. Two of Shan's thugs starts to hurry towards the end of the tunnel.)

Sherlock (from the darkness, as John sighs out a half-relieved, half-exasperated breath): How would you describe me, John? Resourceful? Dynamic? Enigmatic?

JOHN (tetchily): Late?

Sherlock (from the darkness): That's a semi-automatic. If you fire it, the bullet will travel at over a thousand metres per second.

Shan (still aiming her pistol towards the shadows): Well?

Sherlock (from the darkness): Well ...

(The thug has reached a large storage container standing at the side of the tunnel. Sherlock runs out from behind it and thwacks the man across the stomach with a metal pipe. The man grunts and collapses to the ground. Sherlock immediately ducks back into the shadows. I take a small metal pipe from the ground and hit the second thing on the head as he falls down, I go behind the barrel)

Sherlock (quick fire, from the darkness): ... the radius curvature of these walls is nearly four metres. If you miss, the bullet will ricochet. Could hit anyone. Might even bounce off the tunnel and hit you.

(He bursts out of the darkness and runs to the nearby burning dustbin, kicking it over. John flinches at the loud crash and Shan's eyes widen when she realises that it's now even more impossible to see that area of the tunnel. John peers into the darkness, trying to see how close his friend is. Sherlock reappears just behind Sarah and squats down behind her, while I made it near to John and squat down behind him to open his ropes as Sherlock also starts to untie Sarah's bonds. However, the other man - who turns out to be Liang, Soo Lin's brother - runs over to Sherlock and loops a long red scarf around his throat a couple of times. Sherlock cries out and stands up, tugging at the part of the scarf around his neck as Liang pulls it tight. While they struggle, Sarah looks at them for a moment and then turns back to stare at the arrowhead pointed directly at her. She lifts her gaze to the sandbag, which is just passing the counterbalanced weight on its way down towards the metal cup on the crossbow.

I get up to help Sherlock but another thing decides to strangle me with a long scarf around my neck making me gag)

Behind her, Sherlock has shaken off Liang for a moment and again crouches to Sarah's bonds. Liang hurries forward and swings another loop of the scarf around Sherlock's neck and again starts pulling him away.
As the men continue to struggle, John realises that Sherlock isn't going to get free in time. He struggles to stand, which is almost impossible with his hands tied in front of him and attached tightly to the underside of the chair, and his ankles tied to the legs of the chair. Nevertheless he manages to stumble forward a couple of paces, half-carrying and half-dragging the chair with him, before he loses his balance and falls onto his side.

(I try to elbow the thing behind me but he was way stronger than all the other thugs I've dealt with. My eyes start to close as I feel like there was no more air in my lungs)

Liang swings yet another loop of the scarf around Sherlock's neck. Sarah gazes up at the descending metal ball while the men behind her continue to struggle and John thrashes on the floor. Her eyes drop to the arrowhead again as the ball continues relentlessly downwards. Her eyes full of tears, her gaze locks onto her imminent death and all hope begins to fade from her expression.

Flailing and groaning with the effort, John manages to squirm around on the floor and finally gets one foot free enough to kick it upwards and connect with a part of the crossbow. The crossbow shifts position, twisting slightly to the left just as the ball connects with the cup. The arrow is released and flies across the tunnel ... and buries itself in Liang's stomach. He grunts, then straightens up, his face full of shock. He groans breathily for a moment, then slowly topples to the floor.
Gasping for breath, Sherlock stands up and and runs towards me and grabs the thug behind me. I fall down on the floor on my knees, holding my neck gasping for air. Sherlock punches down the thug hard and then looks around. Distant running footsteps can be heard - General Shan is leaving the building. He looks in the direction of the sound as if considering following, but Sarah's anguished muffled sobs distract him and he unloops the red scarf from around his neck and then drops to his knees beside her.)

Sherlock (soothingly): It's all right.

(Sherlock comes towards me and holds my shoulders, making me stand. I almost tripped again because of my dizziness but he managed to hold me)

Sherlock: Hey...your okay, your alright

(I nod at him and go near Sarah and hug her)

(Y/N): Shhh... It's alright...Sarah...she

(She keeps in crying as I held her head on my chest, caressing her hair)

(Sherlock bends down near John and unties him, as John looks up at Sarah)

John: Don't worry. Next date won't be like this.

(She continues to sob on my chest as Sherlock looks at me and I can say that his expression was clearly saying "Thank you" and so I nod back at him, as I put a reassuring hand on Sarah's shoulder.

(Sherlock looks down the tunnel wistfully.)

Later, the police have arrived to clear up the mess. Dimmock is waiting beside a police car just outside the tunnel as John puts his arm around Sarah's shoulders and walks her away. Sherlock is just behind them and stops to talk to the inspector as I stand beside him, with a blanket in me as well)

Sherlock: We'll just slip off. No need to mention us in your report.

Dimmock: Mr Holmes ...

Sherlock: I have high hopes for you, Inspector. A glittering career.

Dimmock: I go where you point me.

Sherlock (walking away): Exactly.

(Dimmock turns and watches him leave. He smiles ruefully.)

(I smile a little too. So he helps the police solve all the cases but...he never takes any credit? Should I consider that stupid or.... righteous? Well.... righteous I suppose)

(We walk side by side away from the crime scene)

(Y/N): Why don't you want to be in the report?

Sherlock: I'm a private detective, the last thing I want is media standing outside my door-step

(Y/N): So if your not doing this for the credit and all....why do you do this?

(He stops and looks at me)

Sherlock: Because I love it

(He says with a little sarcasm)

(Y/N): Solving crimes is....fun to you?

Sherlock: Well you certainly had fun, didn't you? The chase, the hunting down, the fights

(Y/N): Well....I won't deny it ....

Sherlock: Why do you want to do it then?

(Y/N): Makes the world a better place, I guess

(He smiles a little looking out at the crime scene)

Sherlock: Yes...

(Y/N): Can we go home? I don't wanna be in this..."shock blanket" any longer

Sherlock: Not before you tell me...

(Y/N): Tell you what?

(He looks at me as his smile fades away and a serious expression takes over)

Sherlock: Who did you hurt in your past?

(Y/N): W-What...?

Sherlock: I know you have a therapist, because you said you had mental problems....you were in shock... probably because of something you did. What could it be? Your all by urself living in central London with no friends or family so it's only obvious you hurt someone who was close to you. Not family....no....but maybe...a friend of yours?

(Y/N): Huh...you are good, aren't you?

Sherlock: So who?

(Y/N): Margaret. Maggie...

Sherlock: Your friend?

(Y/N): Best friend...yeah...we grew up together

Sherlock: Why did you hurt her?

(Y/N): I didn't....

(He looks confused for a second)

(Y/N): I killed her...

(His eyes widen for a bit as he inhales the cold night air in )

(Y/N): *Sighs* We were Abt....16...I think...it was another fun sleep over at her house...her mother was coming home late and as her father was a police man, he always comes home late. So we were alone... dancing, eating, having fun. And...we went to her father's office and...I ....saw a gun...I picked it up and started waving it around...just for fun...she kept saying how we should leave the office before anyone came but...I was such a brat...I didn't listen and waved the gun around...I pointed it at her...I swear...I thought it wasn't loaded...

Shrlock: Jesus....*he looks away*

(Y/N): So...I called 911....they couldn't even hear me telling the address cause I was crying so much...I just sat there waiting in the darkness...looking at the body... everything after that is still a blur..

(He closes his eyes and sighs, but looks at me again)

Sherlock: Why a therapist?

(Y/N): I had.... hallucinations

(He sighs again. I was Abt to say something but he puts his hand on my head lightly)

Sherlock: That's all I need to know. No need to force yourself

(I sigh and nod at him)

(He caresses my hair softly and then puts his hand away and into his coat pocket)

Sherlock: Let's go. I think I have to sit down thru a huge lecture by John for almost killing his date

(I giggle a little and we walk down the London streets to 221B)

MORNING. 221B. In the kitchen, John is sitting at the table while Sherlock stands next to him and pours him a mug of tea from a teapot. I bring out the small biscuits I bought from the store and out it in the table)

John: Ta.

(He is looking at the translated message on the photograph.)

John: So, "Nine mill ..."

Sherlock (pouring himself a mug of tea): Million.

John: Million, yes; "Nine million for jade pin. Dragon den, black Tramway."

Sherlock: An instruction to all their London operatives.

John: Mmm.

Sherlock: A message; what they were trying to reclaim.

John: What, a jade pin?

Sherlock: Worth nine million pounds. Bring it to the Tramway, their London hideout.

(Y/N): Hang on: a hairpin worth nine million pounds?

Sherlock: Apparently.

(Y/N): Why so much?

Sherlock: Depends who owned it.

(Y/N): So where is it?

SHAD SANDERSON BANK. The boys and I are walking towards the entrance to the bank.

Sherlock: Two operatives based in London. They travel over to Dalian to smuggle those vases. One of them helps himself to something: a little hairpin.

John: Worth nine million pounds.

Sherlock: Eddie Van Coon was the thief. He stole the treasure when he was in China.

Jon: How d'you know it was Van Coon, not Lukis? Even the killer didn't know that.

Sherlock (going through the revolving doors): Because of the soap.

(He looks round smugly at John and me, and we stops and stare back at him blankly for a moment before following him into the bank.)

Upstairs, Van Coon's P.A. Amanda is sitting at her desk. She squirts a bit of hand lotion from the pump-action bottle on the desk and rubs it into her hands. Her phone rings and she picks it up and answers it.

Amanda: Amanda.

Sherlock (over the phone): He bought you a present.

Amanda: Oh. Hello.

Sherlock (over the phone): A little gift when he came back from China.

Amanda: How do you know that?

Sherlock (from behind her): You weren't just his P.A., were you?

(She turns in surprise as he walks around to the side of the desk, switching off his phone and putting it back into his pocket.)

Amanda (switching off her own phone and putting it down): Someone's been gossiping.

Sherlock: No.

Amanda: Then I don't understand. Why ...?

Sherlock (interrupting): Scented hand soap in his apartment.

(Brief flashback to Sherlock looking into Van Coon's bathroom and seeing a pump-action bottle of luxury hand wash on the shelf.)

Sherlock: Three hundred millilitres of it. Bottle almost finished.

Amanda (frowning in confusion): Sorry?

Sherlock: I don't think Eddie Van Coon was the type of chap to buy himself hand soap - not unless he had a lady coming over. And it's the same brand as that hand cream there on your desk.

(Amanda momentarily looks down awkwardly.)

(Y/N): Well...well...

Amanda: Look, it wasn't serious between us. It was over in a flash. It couldn't last - he was my boss.

Sherlock: What happened? Why did you end it?

Amanda (sadly): I thought he didn't appreciate me. Took me for granted. Stood me up once too often - we'd plan to go away for the weekend and then he'd just leave; fly off to China at a moment's notice.

Sherlock: And he brought you a present from abroad to say sorry.

(His gaze is focussed on a small green jade hairpin in her hair.)

Sherlock: Can I ... just have a look at it?

(Wait a minute...is that...what I think it is?)

(He holds out his hand.)

Amanda is holding her hair in place with one hand while she takes out the pin with the other.

Amanda: Said he bought it in a street market.

(She puts the pin into Sherlock's outstretched hand.)

Sherlock: Oh, I don't think that's true. I think he pinched it.

Amanda (chuckling ruefully): Yeah, that's Eddie.

Sherlock: Didn't know its value; just thought it would suit you.

Amanda: Oh? What's it worth?

(Y/N): Sherlock....don't..

(Sherlock smirks.)

Sherlock (slowly): Nine ... million ... pounds.

(Amanda's face fills with shock.)

(Y/N): Amanda...easy...

Amanda: Oh my God!

(She stumbles to her feet and staggers backwards as Sherlock grins.)

Amanda: Oh my G...

(She turns and runs away.)

Amanda (high-pitched and hysterical): Nine million!

(Y/N): Hm..nice job..you gave her a freaking heart attack

Sherlock: Oh..she had it coming..

(In Sebastian's office, John turns his head at the sound of her voice, then turns back and nods to Sebastian before leaving the room.)

NEXT MORNING (or possibly the day after that). Sherlock, wearing a dressing gown over his shirt and trousers, is sitting at the dining table while John sits opposite him. Sherlock is looking at the front page of the Sunday Express, where the headline reads, "Who wants to be a million-hair." He folds the paper in half, puts it down and picks up another newspaper.

John: Over a thousand years old and it's sitting on her bedside table every night.

(I cook up some pancakes at the counter as I hear John)

(Y/N): Yeah...crazy ..

Sherlock : He didn't know its value; didn't know why they were chasing him.

John: Hmm. Should've just got her a lucky cat.

(Y/N): Hehe....true

(Sherlock smiles at him briefly, then looks away.)

Sherlock: Hmm.

(I turn off the gas and bring the pancakes on the table)

(Sherlock's gaze becomes distant. I look at him closely.)

(Y/N): You mind, don't you?

Sherlock (looking at him): What?

(Y/N): That she escaped - General Shan. It's not enough that we got her two henchmen. You wanted to catch her as well

Sherlock: It must be a vast network, (Y/N), thousands of operatives. You, John and I, we barely scratched the surface.

John: You cracked the code, though, Sherlock; and maybe Dimmock can track down all of them now that he knows it.

Sherlock: No. No. I cracked this code; all the smugglers have to do is pick up another book.

John: So...(Y/N), you've been spending a lot of time here with us

(Y/N): *Sips tea* Oh um...yeah

John: So...you part of our gang now?

Sherlock: For God's sake...this is not a gang

(Y/N): Hehe...seems so...yeah

John: Well...I'll be glad to have you around. Sometimes a woman is needed to knock some sense into Sherlock Holmes' head

(Sherlock puts down the newspaper and looks at John)

Sherlock: "Knock some sense"??

John: Mm..I'll put that down in my blog. S'cuse me

(John gets up and goes to his room to get his laptop. Sherlock sighs and reads the newspaper again as I take a mouthful of pancake.)

(It's amazing how in just a few weeks...just by getting pushed my a stranger on the street, and finding his phone would change my life like this...)

(At Beth's house)

Beth: So...one month since our last appointment. Now...I see you've taken a job as a mortician in Bart's, a new flat, and flatmates and friends...with a consulting detective and an army doctor? Wow...things have certainly taken a turn

(Y/N): Yes...they have...

Beth: So...your gonna be okay now?

(I look out the window as the Sun shines thru and sigh deeply)

(Y/N): Oh yeah..*smiles* More than okay.

~The End of "The Blind Banker"~