ST. BART'S LAB

(Sherlock requested me to give him access to the lab after hours. Shit...I might actually get in trouble for this but...try changing Sherlock's mind abt ANYTHING. It never works)

(Sherlock has a large drop of blood in a shallow glass dish. Putting the dish down he opens a small bag of equipment, opens a bottle and siphens out some liquid with a small dropper. Bending down to the dish, he squeezed a drop of that liquid on the blood which starts to fizz)

(Y/N): You really know what you're doing..

Sherlock: I wouldn't be here if I didn't

(He takes the dish under the microscope and looks at it carefully while adjusting the lens)

(I sat down in front of him at the table. John's not here right now. I guess he went to meet up with an old friend...I think his name was...Mike Stamford?)

(Y/N): I think you were the best in your chemistry class

Sherlock: How would you anything about how I was as a student?

(He converses without taking his eyes off the microscope)

(Y/N): I can guess

(I put my elbows on the table and cup my cheeks)

(Y/N): I think you were the kind of student who walked into class and pretended to be the substitute teacher *laughs*

(He looks up at me, confused)

(Y/N): You know...like the movie

(He tilts his head a bit)

(Oh come on...is he kidding?)

(Y/N): Come on...Leonardo DiCaprio in "Catch me if you can". You're joking right?

(He shrugs while shaking his head "No")

(Y/N): Wow okay..when we're done with all this shit, you're watching the movie with me

Sherlock: I don't have the time nor am I interested-

(Y/N): We're all watching it together. End of discussion.

Sherlock: But first we have to catch the killer

(Y/N): Of course. We'll watch it only if we survive *giggles*

(I smile a bit but Sherlock starts to blink while looking down at the microscope, looking anxious)

(Finally he looks up at me)

Sherlock: How's your head?

(Y/N): Oh...

(I touch side of my forehead where the stitches were knowing he was referring to that)

(Y/N): Yeah it's...better now..a bit

(He was still staring at me intently)

(Y/N): Don't worry Sherlock it's not like my head popped open *laughs*

(Suddenly he blinks his eyes as if he just got out of a trance, he continues his inspection of the blood again)

Sherlock: I'm not worried. I'm asking because if you feel uncomfortable then you can stay home

(Y/N): No I'm fine really-

Sherlock: ...Wouldn't want you to slow us down

(Um...excuse me?)

(Y/N): You don't need to worry about my health slowing you down. You just do you.

(I exclaimed with a hint of anger in my voice)

Sherlock: Hmm

(I get up from the stool, annoyed by the conversation when suddenly the pink phone rings again. Sherlock picks it up and puts it on speaker as I go closer to listen)

Sherlock: Hello?

Young Man: *tearfully* The clue's in the name - Janus Cars.

Sherlock: Why would you be giving me a clue?

Young Man: Why does anyone do anything? Because I'm bored. We were made for each other, Sherlock.

Sherlock: Then talk to me in your own voice.

Young Man: *tearfully* Patience.

(The line goes dead. Sherlock puts down the phone and stares at the distance thoughtfully for a while. Finally he looks at the fizzing liquid in the dish, picks it up and looks more closely. He begins to smile and then look at me)

(Y/N): What?

_________________________________________

THREE HOURS TO GO

POLICE CAR POUND

(John, Sherlock, Lestrade and I were standing around Monkford's car)

Sherlock: How much blood was on that seat, would you say?

Lestrade: How much? About a pint.

Sherlock: Not 'about'. Exactly a pint. That was their first mistake. The blood's definitely Ian Monkford's but it's been frozen.

Sherlock: Frozen?

Sherlock: There are clear signs. I think Ian Monkford gave a pint of his blood some time ago and that's what they spread on the seats.

John: Who did?

Sherlock: Janus Cars. The clue's in the name.

(Y/N): You mean...the god with two faces?

Sherlock: Exactly.

John: Mmm.

Sherlock: They provide a very special service. If you've got any kind of a problem - money troubles, bad marriage, whatever - Janus Cars will help you disappear. Ian Monkford was up to his eyes in some kind of trouble - financial, at a guess; he's a banker. Couldn't see a way out. But if he were to vanish, if the car he hired was found abandoned with his blood all over the driver's seat...

John: So where is he?

Sherlock: Colombia.

(Sherlock says as he closes the car door)

Lestrade: Colombia?!

Sherlock: Mr. Ewert of Janus Cars had a twenty thousand Colombian peso note in his wallet.. ..Quite a bit of change, too. He told us he hadn't been abroad recently, but when I asked him about the cars, I could see his tan line clearly. No-one wears a shirt on a sunbed. That, plus his arm.

Lestrade: His arm?

Sherlock: Kept scratching it. Obviously irritating him, and bleeding. Why? Because he'd recently had a booster jab. Hep-B, probably. Difficult to tell at that distance. Conclusion: he'd just come back from settling Ian Monkford into his new life in Columbia. Mrs Monkford cashes in the life insurance and she splits it with Janus Cars.

(Y/N): Wait what? M-Mrs Monkford?

Sherlock: Oh yes. She's in on it too.

(Lestrade lowers his head with a look of amusement on his face. In fact I think we all did)

Sherlock: Now go and arrest them, Inspector. That's what you do best.

(He turns to us)

Sherlock: We need to let our friendly bomber know that the case is solved.

(Sherlock turns and leads us away as he clenches his fist triumphantly at his sides as he goes)

Sherlock: I am on fire!!

(He really is...)

_________________________________________

(We're back in 221B sitting at the living room table. None of us took off our coats because the heating still can't be turned on nor the fire pit after the explosion. The windows are still broken and boarded up)

(Sherlock types in a new message onto The Science of Deduction)

(Congratulations to Ian Monkford on his relocation to Columbia)

(After Sherlock sends the message, after a few seconds another "blocked" phone call comes in on the pink phone lying on the table beside the computer. Sherlock switches on the speaker)

Young Man: *tearfully* He says you can come and fetch me. Help. Help me, please.

_________________________________________

(We were sitting at a table in a cafe, the one I used to work in, no idea why Sherlock decided that we should have lunch here)

(One of the waitresses approached us to serve mine and John's food. I ordered some spaghetti while John wanted some bacon, fried rice and eggs. Sherlock, on the other hand, and on the other side of table, ordered nothing at all)

Lori: Heyyyy (Y/N), long time no see

(Y/N): Hi Lori...

(I tried to look away, giving her the hint and I don't wanna have any small talk. Clearly she didn't get the message)

Lori: I was surprised when you suddenly decided to quit. Thought you'd eloped with your therapist or something

John: Therapist??

(Y/N): Thanks for the food Lori

(I exclaimed a little loudly and she finally shook her head and left us alone)

John: You have a therapist?

(Y/N): Um...no not anymore really

John: I did too by the way

(Y/N): You did? Well of course you did, it must've been hard for you to adjust to the civilian life after Afghanistan

John: Yeah well...we're not exactly civilians right now though are we?

(Y/N): While we're working with Sherlock Holmes? No way

(I noticed a smile curving from the side of Sherlock's lips)

John: Oh and how's that?

(John slightly touches my wound on my head)

(Y/N): Oh yeah it's fine. No need to worry about it

(John smiles and puts his hand down on table. He takes his knife and fork and starts to dive into the bacon but he stopped when Sherlock was staring at him)

John: What?

(Sherlock raised one of his brows, looked at me, and then looked back at him)

(Oh wow....come on... really?)

John: W-What? I'm not...I was just...No no no I wasn't trying to-

(He looks at me)

John: (Y/N) I wasn't trying to- I swear I-

(Both Sherlock and I start laughing at John's remark)

(Y/N): *Laughs* It's fine John, look at him he was joking

(And he was because he was still laughing while looking down at his phone)

John: Oh you..dimwit...

Sherlock: Feeling better?

(John takes a spoonful of rice in his mouth as I gobble up my spaghetti)

John: Mmm. You realise we've hardly stopped for a breath since this thing started?

(John looks at Sherlock for a second, possibly thinking whether he should ask him a question or not)

John: Has it occurred to you...?

Sherlock: Probably.

John: No - has it occurred to you that the bomber's playing a game with you? The envelope; breaking into the other flat; the dead kid's shoes - it's all meant for you.

Sherlock: Yes, I know.

(Sherlock replies, almost amused and flattered. He loves the fact that the bomber was doing all of this for him)

John: Is it him, then? Moriarty?

Sherlock: Perhaps.

(Y/N): Wait who's Moriarty?

John: Um well when I met Sherlock for the first time. He uh..dealt with someone who was working for this... Moriarty...so...he might be behind it all

(Y/N): Even the "The Blind Banker"?

John: Maybe

Sherlock: "The Blind Banker"? Even you read his stupid blog?

(Y/N): Everyone does! And it's not stupid!

(Suddenly the pink phone starts to ring and this time it was too pips and one long one and then the photograph of a smiling middle-aged woman appears on the screen who John and I know very well)

Sherlock: That could be anybody

John: It could be yeah but lucky for you, we've been a little more than unemployed

Sherlock: How d'you mean?

(Y/N): He means lucky for you we all watch far too much telly with Mrs. Hudson

(I got from my chair, took the TV remote on the counter and switch channels on the small TV hung on the wall. I finally found what I was looking for as that same woman was on the screen smiling)

Connie: Thank you Tyra! Doesn't she look lovely everybody now?

(Suddenly the phone rings and Sherlock holds it up to his ear. After a while he puts it down and shakes his head at John)

John: What did he say?

Sherlock: She. It's an elderly woman now.

John: Christ

(Y/N): Yeah but what did... Moriarty...or whoever say?

(Sherlock remains silent for a little while before replying)

Sherlock: "I like to watch you dance"

(Oh my God)

(I look up at the screen again and see the news headline "Connie Prince dead at 48")

(Y/N): Oh..Mrs. Hudson's gonna have a bad day...

_________________________________________

BART'S MORGUE

(I change into my long white lab coat, put on my gloves as I reel out the body of Connie Prince and place her on the table in the morgue. I cover her whole body with a white sheet only except for her head of course)

(I've gotta say..from coffee to this? It's a huge jump. But Molly's been helping me out a lot and John too. He was an Army Doctor after all)

(Soon after Sherlock, John and Lestrade walk in together through the doors and I noticed Molly behind them as well)

(Y/N): Oh that's okay Molly I've got it covered

Molly: Oh alright see ya in a bit then~

(I smile at her as she leaves)

Lestrade: Well you got used to this quick, haven't ya?

(Y/N): *Smiles* Not really. Just been here for a few weeks. I'm still learning

Lestrade: Well...you adapt well

(I look up at Lestrade's face when he said that and Sherlock did as well. I give out a little giggle as Lestrade tried to act like that was a normal compliment to give while Sherlock looked at him like "You adapt well"? Really?)

(Lestrade proceeds to give info about Connie Prince)

Lestrade: Connie Prince, fifty-four. She had one of those make-over shows on the telly. Did you see it?

Sherlock: No.

Lestrade: Very popular. She was going places.

Sherlock: Not any more. So, dead two days. According to one of her staff, Raoul de Santos, she cut her hand on a rusty nail in the garden. Nasty wound.

(I point to the deep cut in the webbing between her right thumb and index finger)

Sherlock: Tetanus bacteria enters the bloodstream, good night, Vienna.

John: I suppose.

Holmes: Something's wrong with this picture.

Lestrade: Eh?

Sherlock: Can't be as simple as it seems, otherwise the bomber wouldn't be directing us towards it. Something's wrong.

(Sherlock takes out his small magnifier and looks closely at her arm)

Sherlock: John?

John: Mmm. Holmes: The cut on her hand: it's deep; would have bled a lot, right?

Sherlock: Yeah. Holmes: But the wound's clean - very clean, and fresh.

(He looks up at me)

Sherlock: How long would the bacteria have been incubating inside her?

(Is he testing me?)

(Y/N): Uh..I'd say about eight, ten days.

(Sherlock straightens up and quirks a one-sided grin)

(Y/N): Wait so....the cut was made later?

Lestrade: After she was dead?

Sherlock: Must have been. The only question is, how did the tetanus enter the dead woman's system?

(Sherlock turns to John)

Sherlock: You want to help, right?

John: Of course.

Sherlock: Connie Prince's background - family history, everything. Give me data.

John: Right.

(John leaves the room and Sherlock looks at the body one more time)

Sherlock: Come on

(Y/N): Wait I've gotta put her back-

Sherlock: Molly will do it, let's go

(Y/N): Okay okay..

(As I was taking off my coat and gloves, Lestrade questions Sherlock)

Lestrade: There's something else that we haven't thought of.

Sherlock: *casually* Is there?

Lestrade: Yes. Why is he doing this, the bomber?

(Sherlock looks a little anxious)

Lestrade: If this woman's death was suspicious, why point it out?

Sherlock: Good Samaritan.

(He was about to leave the room)

Lestrade: ..who press-gangs suicide bombers?

(He stops)

Sherlock: Bad Samaritan.

Lestrade: I'm - I'm serious, Sherlock. Listen, I'm cutting you slack here, I'm trusting you - but out there somewhere, some poor bastard's covered in Semtex and is just waiting for you to solve the puzzle. So just tell me - what are we dealing with?

(I look at Sherlock and at the smile that appeared on his face)

Sherlock: Something new.