(Open POV)
EIGHTEEN MONTHS AGO…
A newspaper article is headed, 'BANK GANG LEAVE COPS CLUELESS'. The accompanying photograph shows two men outside a court holding their hands up in front of their faces so they cannot be recognised in the pictures. At the entrance to the court itself Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade and Detective Sergeant Sally Donovan walk briskly out through the door.
"They just walked out of there!" Lestrade yelled.
"Yeah, I know. I was sort of sitting next to you." Donovan said, annoyed.
"The whole Waters family! They just walked right out of there!"
"Again, I was in the room."
"How do they always manage that?" Lestrade asked, angrily.
"They're good." Donovan said, smirking.
"They're greedy, and they'll do it again, and next time we're gonna catch 'em in the act."
"How?"
TWELVE MONTHS AGO…
A newspaper article is headed, 'WHO STOLE OUR TWO MILL?' and shows police officers standing in a cordoned-off area outside a building, with a police car parked behind the cordon. In real life, Greg gets into the driver's seat of his car parked just outside the cordon and angrily slams the door closed. Sally is sitting in the passenger seat.
"No good?" Donovan asked.
"They always know we're coming." Lestrade said, furiously. "How do they always know?"
"They're good. They work at it."
"They're never gonna stop."
"Well, neither are we."
SIX MONTHS AGO…
A new headline reads, 'POLICE ARE NO CLOSER TO WATERS GANG CONVICTION' and the photograph again shows the court. Greg storms out of the building with Sally behind him. He lets out an angry incoherent noise as he walks away.
THREE MONTHS AGO…
This time the headline reads, 'Waters gang walk free – again!' and there is another photo of two men near the court, covering their faces against the photographers. On the steps outside the court, two uniformed police officers stand and watch while Greg repeatedly kicks the living daylights out of the back tyre of his car, grunting with fury. Sally stands beside the driver's door and helplessly watches him. Finally she has had enough.
"Greg!" Donovan said, loudly, while Greg gestures dramatically at her.
"In the act! The only way we're gonna do this! In. The. Act!" Lestrade said, loudly, as he kicks the tyre once more and then storms forward and angrily tugs the driver's door open, inadvertently shoving Sally out of the way.
YESTERDAY…
A man wearing a gruesome clown's mask and holding a sawn-off shotgun looks around a bank vault and then turns to where a second man, wearing a different but equally horrid-looking mask, straightens up from typing on a laptop. A third masked man is inside a nearby open strong room and is slowly carrying three heavy gold ingots toward the door. The laptop screen shows, 'ALARMS OFFLINE'. The second man goes into the strong room where hundreds of gold ingots are stacked up on a couple of pallets. He lifts three ingots on top of each other, then hauls them up in his hands and makes his way out.
On a different laptop the screen shows the same information as the one in the vault but this one now displays a second message reading, '*** HACKING DETECTED***'. In a car outside the bank, Sally sits in the passenger seat with the laptop on her lap. The rooftop lights of nearby police cars are flashing and police officers are walking around.
Greg sits beside Donovan, "You still blocking it?"
"Yeah. Very efficiently hacked. They must be bloody pleased with themselves." Donovan said, happily.
"They must be!" Lestrade said, smiling at Donovan.
Inside the strong room the third clown is looking down at the two pallets, which are now empty. The second clown walks over to him and puts his hand on his shoulder.
Outside, armed police begin to run into the bank. Greg and Sally are out of the car and Greg gestures to her as they follow the others.
"Right then?" Lestrade asked.
"Oh, no! No, you've gotta make the arrest. This one's yours, boss." Donovan said, looking at Lestrade.
"You've never called me 'boss' before."
"Ah, well, look what happens when you're good!"
They both grin as they walk on.
"You know how most days aren't good days? This is a good day." Lestrade said.
"Not for the Waters family." Donovan said, while Greg's phone beeps a text alert and he looks down towards his pocket and grimaces, but then ignores it. "Okay: ten men on the roof; all exits covered; the bank's closed, so there are no hostages to worry about …"
Greg's phone beeps again. Again he grimaces and Sally looks round at him.
"Sorry, no, go on, go on." Lestrade said, sadly.
"Um, we've got the tunnel entrance covered; and Davies, Willard and Christie are heading up our Response on Mafeking Road." Donovan said.
Greg's phone beeps twice more and he takes it from his pocket and stops to look at it, "Sorry, I'd better get this."
"It's them, isn't it?" Donovan asked, continuing onwards with the other officers.
Greg's face fills with shock as he reads the string of messages he has received:
HELP.
BAKER ST.
NOW.
HELP US.
PLEASE.
Lestrade looks up at Sally, "I-I, I have to go."
"What?!" Donovan exclaimed, turning back in surprise.
"You make the arrest." Lestrade said.
"No way!" Donovan said, angrily.
"Sorry. You'll be fine. I'm-I'm-I'm cool with this."
"Jones'll get all the credit if you leave now! You know he will!"
Greg hesitates, clearly reluctant to give up his chance for success.
"Yeah, but d... It doesn't matter. I have to go." Lestrade said, turns and hurries away.
Sally watches him for a moment, grimacing, then continues on with the other officers.
Outside, Greg is running for his car, making a phone call as he goes.
"Back-up. I need maximum back-up. Baker Street, now!" Lestrade said, talking into his phone and getting into his car and speeds off.
(Jared's POV)
221B BAKER STREET…
Greg races up the stairs and into the living room.
"What's going on?" Lestrade asked, breathlessly.
Sherlock is sitting at the dining table looking at his laptop. The fingers of both his hands are pressed into his temples while I am playing Paper Mario:The Thousand Year Door on my Nintendo Switch.
"This is hard." Sherlock said, frowning.
"What?" Lestrade asked.
"Really hard. Hardest thing I've ever had to do." Sherlock said, lowering his hands, he picks up a book and holds it up to show Greg. The book is called 'How to write an unforgettable best man speech'. "Have you any funny stories about John?"
"I know I don't have any." I said, as Greg stared at Sherlock and I in disbelief. "That's why I wanted Greg to help you."
"Fair point." Sherlock said, and police cars are sirening their way into Baker Street and screeching to a halt outside. "He is good at this sort of thing, unlike you."
"What?!" Lestrade exclaimed.
Putting the book down, Sherlock looks up at Lestrade.
"I need anecdotes as Jared doesn't know any anecdotes." Sherlock said, while he seems to notice Greg's expression. "Didn't go to any trouble, did you?"
"He did." I said, while Greg stared at us, still breathing heavily. "Knowing you, Greg, you made it dramatic."
Outside, an ambulance is sirening its way up the road, and a helicopter can be heard approaching. Sherlock's eyes shift sideways when he becomes aware of the noise outside and I run towards the window, and the curtains in the open window behind Sherlock billow inwards as the helicopter hovers lower.
"It was the way Sherlock wrote his text." Lestrade said, as Sherlock looks round as the billowing curtains knock some sheet music off its stand and the detective inspector closes his eyes in exasperation. "It made me seem like you both were in danger!"
A day has passed and violin playing can be heard, playing a gentle waltz. Mrs Hudson comes out of 221A carrying a tray of tea things. She stops, smiling with delight at the sound of the music, then goes up the stairs. The living room door is closed and she stops outside for a moment, then opens the door. Inside, Sherlock isn't playing his violin as she believed. Instead, wearing a camel coloured dressing gown over his shirt and trousers, he is waltzing around the room on his own, holding an imaginary partner while he dances in time to the music while I am still playing Paper Mario:The Thousand Year Door on my Nintendo Switch.
Sherlock glances over his shoulder when his landlady walks in, "Shut up, Mrs Hudson."
"I haven't said a word." Mrs Hudson said.
"You're formulating a question. It's physically painful watching you thinking." Sherlock said, sighing as he continued to waltz before he stopped dancing.
"I thought it was you playing."
"It was me playing." Sherlock said, gesturing to a music player on the dining table before picking up a remote control, switches off the music player and bends down to make a notation on the sheet music lying on the table. "I am composing."
"Sherlock, you were dancing." Mrs Hudson said, putting her tray on the table beside John's chair.
"I was road-testing."
"You what?"
"Why are you here?" Sherlock asked, throwing down his pen and turning to look at Mrs Hudson.
"Sherlock, I'm bringing you your morning tea and Jared his morning coffee." Mrs Hudson said, pouring some milk into one teacup along with cream and sugar in the other teacup. "You're not usually awake, Jared usually is."
"You bring me tea in the morning?" Sherlock asked, sitting down in his chair.
"She does." I said, and Mrs Hudson is pouring the tea. "She makes good tea. And I can't exactly call Ianto to make me a cup of coffee since he's dead."
"You shouldn't worry too much about things you can't change, Jared, dear." Mrs Hudson said, pouring the coffee. "Well, Sherlock, where d'you think it came from?!"
"I don't know. I just thought it sort of happened." Sherlock said.
"Your mother has a lot to answer for." Sherlock said, taking the cups and saucer over to us.
"Mm, I know. I have a list. Mycroft has a file."
Giggling, Mrs H sits down in John's chair.
"Well, it is the big day!" I said, excitedly. "I came back from Los Angeles a month ago to make it back in time for it."
"What big day?" Sherlock asked, taking a sip of tea.
"Ugh! It's the wedding day! John and Mary are getting married!"
"Two people who currently live together are about to attend church, have a party, go on a short holiday and then carry on living together. What's big about that?" Sherlock asked.
"It changes people, marriage." Mrs Hudson said, smiling.
"Mmm, no it doesn't."
"Well, you wouldn't understand 'cause you always live alone."
"He really wouldn't. Mrs. Hudson, have you met the Ponds?" I asked, while Sherlock is lifting his teacup to his mouth but stops momentarily.
"Ginger girl and the male nurse? I've met them. They were nice and they talked about you, Jared. They're what represents how marriage changes people."
"Your husband was executed for double murder. You're hardly an advert for companionship." Sherlock said, drinking his tea.
"Marriage changes you as a person, in ways that you can't imagine." Mrs Hudson said.
"Yup. I saw it firsthand with the Girl Who Waited and Rory the Roman." I said, placing my Nintendo Switch Pro Controller onto a nearby table and picked up my cup of coffee. "They were a happy married couple, Sherlock."
"As does lethal injection." Sherlock said, smiling pointedly at Mrs Hudson and I.
"My best friend, Margaret – she was my chief bridesmaid." Mrs Hudson said, as Sherlock rolled his eyes and put his cup and saucer on the table beside him. "We were going to be best friends forever, we always said that; but I hardly saw her after that."
"Aren't there usually biscuits?" Sherlock asked, standing up.
"I've run out."
"Have the shops?" Sherlock asked, pointedly walking towards the door.
"She cried the whole day, saying, 'Ooh, it's the end of an era'."
"I'm sure the shop on the corner is open." Sherlock said, gesturing towards the stairs.
"She was probably right, really." Mrs Hudson said, and Sherlock closes his eyes and grimaces. "I remember she left early. I mean, who leaves a wedding early?" She shakes her head. "So sad."
"Mmm. Anyway, you've got things to do."
"No, not really. I've got plenty of time to …"
"Biscuits." Sherlock said, sternly.
"Sherlock! Rude!" I said, while Mrs Hudson got out of her chair, tutting. "You shouldn't act that way towards Mrs Hudson!"
"Jared's right, you shouldn't be rude to me. Sherlock, I really am going to have a word with your mother." Mrs Hudson said, walking towards the door.
"You can if you like. She understands very little." Sherlock said, closing the door on Mrs Hudson, then turned around sighing. "Jared, you don't have to come to this."
"After dealing with Dahlia Hawthorne for a second time in court last month." I said, as Sherlock turned his head and looked towards John's chair for a few long moments, then walked through the kitchen and down the hallway. "I've already agreed to be one of John's groomsmen."
"I know." Sherlock said, taking off his dressing gown. "Right, then." He walks through his bedroom to his wardrobe, where a morning suit is hanging from the open door and looks at it. "Into battle, Jared."
(Open POV)
A man is doing up the buttons on the jacket of his military dress uniform. Although it would seem easier to use two hands to do this, he is only using his right hand. A suitcase is on the nearby bed and laid out beside it is a white webbing belt, a pair of white gloves, a military cap and a ceremonial sword. The man reaches down and picks up the belt and swings it around the left-hand side of his waist and then clamps it to his side with his left arm and he is only using his right hand. His left hand has been badly burned in the past and is very scarred. It is clear that he is unable to use this hand. Reaching behind himself he tugs the belt around his waist, pulls it tight and does it up. He bends down to the cap, picks it up and puts it on, the left side of his face is also severely scarred. He stares ahead of himself as he straightens his jacket.
(Jared's POV)
Church bells peal and the doors to a church open. John and Mary, newly married, walk out followed by Sherlock and the chief bridesmaid, whose name is Janine, then two more bridesmaids, then me, and the vicar. A photographer is waiting outside.
"Congratulations! Okay, hold it there – I wanna get this shot of the newlyweds." The photographer said, while John and Mary stop and the bridesmaids stand behind them while Sherlock steps to the former assassin's side. "Er, just the bride and groom, please."
"Um, Sherlock." I said, as Sherlock doesn't move. "He asked for John and Mary."
John looks round at Sherlock, "Sherlock?"
"Oh, sorry." Sherlock said, walking out of shot.
"Okay – three, two, one, cheese!" The photographer said, happily.
The bridesmaids throw handfuls of confetti into the air and the photographer starts taking pictures. The rest of the congregation come out and the photo-taking continues, including one of John, Sherlock, Greg, and I standing side by side, with a young pageboy – about eight years old – standing in front of us wearing either John's or Sherlock's top hat. Later, the photographer takes a picture of Sherlock and Janine. Nearby, Molly stands with her fiancé Tom. She is gazing at Sherlock and if she really believes that she has 'moved on', her expression suggests that she's not fooling anyone but herself.
After the photographer has finished with us, Janine looks round at Sherlock.
"The famous Mr Holmes! I'm very pleased to meet you. But no sex, okay?" Janine asked.
"Um, sorry?" Sherlock asked, startled.
"You don't have to look so scared. I'm only messing. Bridesmaid, best man ... It's a bit traditional." Janine said, laughing and gently punched Sherlock's arm.
Sherlock looks down with distaste, "Is it?"
"But not obligatory!" Janine said, a little awkwardly.
"If that's the sort of thing you're looking for …" Sherlock said, jerking his head towards one of the wedding guests. "... the man over there in blue is your best bet. Recently divorced doctor with a ginger cat …" I looked at a ginger cat hair stuck on the man's suit, and the sound of a miaow. "... a barn conversion …" I then looked at sawdust on the man's footwear. "... and a history of erectile dysfunction."
"I forgot how slow today is going to be." I said, noticing that the man is wearing cowboy boots. There's the sound of a bullet ricocheting off something with a high-pitched ping, like in a Western movie. "I forgot I was in the Old West centuries ago."
"Fair point." Sherlock said, blinking. "Reviewing that information, possibly not your best bet."
"Yeah, maybe not." Janine said.
"Sorry – there was one more deduction there than I was expecting." Sherlock said, looking puzzled.
"Mr Holmes …" Janine said, taking Sherlock's arm. "... you're going to be incredibly useful."
"Right…" I said, and Sherlock looked down at Janine's hand, frowning. "This adventure is going to be slow."
Later, John and Mary, with Sherlock and I at John's side, are standing outside the venue for the reception, greeting the guests.
"Hello. Lovely to meet you." Mary said, shaking a man's hand before kissing a woman. The woman moves on to kiss John, and another man moves in to kiss the bride. "How are you?"
"You look beautiful, Mary." The man said.
"Thank you!"
"Congratulations."
More guests move past the four of us, then a man wearing a lurid purple tie comes forward. Mary looks at him with delight.
"David!" Mary said, reaching out her arms ready to hug David.
David leans away, laughing nervously, and just clasps Mary's arms briefly.
"Mary. Congratulations. You look, um, very nice." David said, quickly moving away from Mary with the bride looks puzzled and he shakes John's hand. "John, congratulations. You're a lucky man."
"Thank you." John said.
"Um, er, David, this is Sherlock and Jared." Mary said, while Sherlock and I smiled at him, tight-lipped.
"Um, yeah. We've, um, we've met." David said, looking down nervously.
FLASHBACK…
David, sitting at the dining table in 221B, looks around the room and then turns to where Sherlock is sitting opposite him holding a pen, as I am sitting down in John's chair, playing Super Mario RPG on my Nintendo Switch.
"So, what exactly are my duties as an usher?" David asked, picking up the Sudokube from the desk and idly playing with it.
"Basically, you're not part of the wedding reception." I said, looking up from my Nintendo Switch, towards David. "You seat guests during the wedding ceremony, hand out programs, and direct loved ones to important locations in the venue, such as the toilet and coat check."
"Oh. I see."
Sherlock frowns disapprovingly, then puts down his pen and folds his hands, "Let's talk about Mary, now.
"Sorry, what?" David asked.
"Oh, I think you know what. You went out with her for two years." Sherlock said.
"A-ages ago. We're j... we're just good friends now."
"Is that a fact?" Sherlock asked, looking down at his notes in front of David. "Whenever she tweets, you respond within five minutes regardless of time or current location, suggesting you have her on text alert. In all your Facebook photographs of the happy couple, Mary takes centre frame whereas John is always partly or entirely excluded."
"Sherlock…" I said, rolling my eyes. "Not now."
"Yes. Now. I have to do this, Jared."
"If you say so."
"Sherlock, you can't assume from that I've still got some kind of interest in Mary." David said, laughing uncomfortably.
"You volunteered to be a shoulder to cry on on no less than three separate occasions. Do you have anything to say in your defence?" Sherlock asked, while David opens his mouth but is unable to speak and the consulting detective looks down and makes a note. "I think from now on we'll downgrade you to 'casual acquaintance.' No more than three planned social encounters a year, and always in John's presence." He puts the pen down and folds his hands again, looking intensely at David. "I have your contact details. I will be monitoring."
"They're right about you. Sherlock, you're a bloody psychopath. At least Jared is more normal than you." David said, a little wide-eyed.
"High-functioning sociopath ... with your number." Sherlock said, grinning maniacally, showing a lot of teeth, then drops the smile and steeples his hands in front of his chin, looking sternly at David.
David looks down, then lets out a nervous breath and gets up and walks away. Sherlock picks up the Sudokube and puts it back into its proper position on the table.
THE PRESENT…
David makes a couple of anxious noises, waves briefly to Mary and goes indoors. John looks round at Sherlock and I with a curious expression but Sherlock raises his head and looks inscrutable. The next guest approaches.
"Hello!" Mary said, excitedly.
The greetings continue. A woman in a black and white dress approaches and kisses Mary.
"Pleased to see you." Mary said.
The woman moves on to kiss and hug John, "Congratulations."
"Thanks for coming, thank you." John said.
The young pageboy is standing a few paces away. Mary smiles down at him.
"Hello, Archie!" Mary said, happily.
The boy's eyes are fixed on Sherlock and I, and the moment he has a clear route he runs straight to me and wraps his arms around me, smiling happily. I looked down at Archie, smiling.
"Good job at the service, Archie." I said, knowing how my day with Archie went. "I'll give you more Hyperdimension Neptunia figures later. I promise."
The woman in the black and white dress, obviously Archie's mother, smiles at us.
"He's really come out of his shell. I don't know how you did it." Archie's mom said.
"Um …" I said, smiling. "It's a long story."
FLASHBACK…
In 221B Baker Street, I am sitting in Sherlock's chair and look at Archie sitting in John's chair. Sherlock went over to John and Mary's to get away from Archie, knowing he can trust me with the kid.
Archie and I stared straight-faced at each other for a moment, then I turned on the TV with the Hyperdimension Neptunia anime playing in the background.
"Basically, at the end of the wedding, the bride and groom are smiling at the end of the aisle with them doing the whole ring ceremony." I said, happily.
"No." Archie said, instantly.
"I'm sorry. You have to wear the suit."
"No." Archie said, instantly.
"You really do have to wear the outfit."
"What for?" Archie asked, instantly.
"Apparently grown-ups like this. Dressing up nice for parties such as weddings and funerals."
"Why?" Archie asked, instantly.
I paused for a moment to think about what to say to that, "Don't know. Might ask the Ponds later. They're friends of mine."
"So Hyperdimension Neptunia." Archie said, more slowly, thoughtfully.
"Yep." I said, popping the 'p' loudly.
"Why does Neptune have an obsession with pudding?"
"Because pudding is good, and she marks them down as Nep's pudding."
"Can we fast forward to a later episode?"
"Yeah. Okay. We can." I said, after only a momentary hesitation.
I picked up the TV remote and went to the menu of Hyperdimension Neptunia on Crunchyroll to the Peashy episodes. I then clicked on Episode 6 and after a while, Archie leaned in to look more closely at the image on the TV.
"Who's that girl?" Archie asked.
"That's Peashy. She's adorable!" I said, excitedly.
"Cool!"
"Yup!" I said, looking at Archie for a moment. "We can go back to the other episodes afterwards. I promise."
THE PRESENT…
Archie is still hugging me.
"He said you had some video games for him, as a treat." Archie's mother said.
"Yup. I'll give them to Archie…" I said, patting Archie's head. "...if he's good and doesn't complain later."
"Nep. Nep." Archie said, turning to look at his mother.
"Amazing video game franchise." I said, unwrapping Archie from around me and gently pushed him towards the entrance. "Hyperdimension Neptunia."
"Hmm?" Archie's mother asked, looking down at Archie as they go inside. "What did you say?"
INSIDE…
Molly is canoodling with Tom, repeatedly kissing his cheek. Tom indicates that the photographer is approaching them, and she turns and smiles into the camera while he takes some pictures.
"Nice." The photographer said, moving on to the next nearest couple, who are Mrs Hudson and what must surely be Mr Chatterjee from the sandwich shop.
Apparently Mrs H has forgiven him for already having two wives – or she hasn't yet found out about the one in Islamabad. She smiles happily for the camera; Mr Chatterjee doesn't look quite so happy to be there. The photographer turns and snaps several pictures of Greg who is sitting at a table and drinking. Greg, looking a little glum, raises his glass to him.
John, Mary, and I are standing nearby.
John indicates as a waiter approaches with a plate of canapés, "Oh, d'you want ...?"
"I'm starving." Mary said, taking a canapé from the plate.
"Thanks." John said, declining the water's offer of the plate.
"Had to lose so much weight to get into this dress." Mary said, while John chuckles.
"At least the dress looks good on you, Mary." I said, smiling.
Sherlock and Janine are standing together a short distance away.
Janine looks admiringly at the waiter as he walks past, "He's nice."
Sherlock sniffs deeply, "Traces of two leading brands of deodorant, both advertised for their strength, suggestive of a chronic body odour problem manifesting under stress."
"Okay, done there. What about his friend?" Janine asked.
Sherlock turns to look where she's looking. In the nearby kitchen, another waiter is carefully pulling out the skewer from the middle of a large joint of roast beef.
"Long-term relationship, compulsive cheat." Sherlock said.
"Seriously?" Janine asked.
"Waterproof cover on his smartphone." Sherlock said, looking at the phone in the man's jacket pocket. "Yet his complexion doesn't indicate outdoor work." He then looked at the man's face. "Suggests he's in the habit of taking his phone into the shower with him, which means he often receives texts and emails he'd rather went unseen."
"Can I keep you?" Janine asked, smiling admiringly at Sherlock.
"D'you like solving crimes?"
"Do you have a vacancy?"
Sherlock's eyes drift over to John, then he looks away again. Mary puts a hand on John's shoulder as I grabbed John's hand.
"What about your sister?" I asked, squeezing John's hand. "Is Harry coming?"
"Er, no. No show." John said, sadly.
"Darling, I'm so sorry." Mary said, frowning.
"It was a bit of a punt asking her, I suppose. Still, free bar – wouldn't have been a good mix." John said, looking down, then raises his eyes towards the entrance and looks surprised. "Oh, God, wow!"
The scarred uniformed man I saw earlier has just walked in.
"Oh, G... Is that ...?" Mary asked.
"It is!" I said, happily.
"He came!" John said, excitedly.
While Mary and I smile with delight, John walks over to the man and they salute each other. Sherlock walks over to Mary and I.
"So that's him. Major Sholto." Sherlock said, his voice sounds disapproving.
"Uh-huh." Mary said.
"Yup." I said, grabbing Mary's hand.
Sherlock narrows his eyes as he looks at the two men, "If they're such good friends, why does he barely even mention him?"
"He mentions him all the time to me and Jared. He never shuts up about him." Mary said.
"He really doesn't. Once I told him that I knew Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, he started telling me about Major Sholto." I said, smirking.
"About him?" Sherlock asked.
"Mm-hmm." Mary said, taking a drink from her wine glass, then grimaces. "Urgh. I chose this wine. It's bloody awful."
"Yes, but it's definitely him that he talks about?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Yup. Totally." I said, drinking the Rosé in my wine glass. "Those two are old friends."
At the entrance…
"I'm very, very glad to see you, sir. I know you don't really do this sort of thing." John said.
"Well, I do for old friends, Watson ... John. It's good to see you." Sholto said.
"You too."
Sholto nods, then looks around the room, "Civilian life suiting you, then?"
"Er, er, yes, well …" John said, gesturing towards Mary. "... I think so, sir."
"No more need for the trick cyclist?" Sholto asked.
"No, I-I go now and then. Sort of a top-up." John said, and Sholto nods. "Therapy can be very helpful." Sholto awkwardly looks away. "Where are you living these days?"
"Oh, way out in the middle of nowhere. You wouldn't know it."
"I've never even heard him say his name." Sherlock said.
"Well, he's almost a recluse – you know, since …" Mary said, sadly.
"Yes." Sherlock said.
"I didn't think he'd show up at all. John says he's the most unsociable man he's ever met."
"He is? He's the most unsociable?"
"Yeah. Sherlock, you're more sociable than Major Sholto. Mostly because you have to talk to people as a consultant detective. He's a veteran." I said, smiling.
"Ah, that's why he's bouncing 'round him like a puppy."
Mary grins and hugs Sherlock's arm, "Oh, Sherlock! None of us were the first, you know."
He looks round at Mary, "Stop smiling."
"It's my wedding day!" Mary said, indignantly.
Rolling his eyes, Sherlock pulls free and walks away with me. Mary takes another drink from her wine glass, then pulls a disgusted face at the taste.
Interior of a grand building/ Wedding Reception Room…
There is a room with a large old painting on the wall and a suit of armour standing nearby. A steady regular thumping sound can be heard. Mycroft – dressed in gym clothes – is jogging on a treadmill. After a while he switches it off and jumps off, breathing heavily. He walks a few paces away, then stops and lifts his top to examine his stomach, patting it reflectively and looking quite pleased with himself. On a nearby table, his phone rings. He picks it up and answers.
"Yes, what, Sherlock?" Mycroft asked, breathlessly.
"Why are you out of breath?" Sherlock asked, walking through the wedding reception room as he talked into his phone.
"Filing."
"Either we've caught you in a compromising position or you've been working out again." Sherlock said.
"He's on the treadmill, Sherlock." I said, sipping on my Rosé. "Definitely working out."
"Thank you for telling me, Jared."
"What do you and Jared want, brother, dear?" Mycroft asked.
"We need your answer, Mycroft, as a matter of urgency." Shearlock said.
"'Answer'?"
"Even at the eleventh hour, it's not too late, you know."
"It really isn't, Mikey." I said, still sipping on my Rosé.
"Oh, Lord. You really did not just call me Mikey, Jared." Mycroft said, sighing.
"Cars can be ordered, private jets commandeered." Sherlock said, happily.
"Yup. Mycroft. Can we have it in an airport? Pretty please. I was thinking about it being in London Heathrow."
"Today. It's today, isn't it? No, Sherlock, Jared, I will not be coming to the 'night do', as you both so poetically put it." Mycroft said, frowning. "And no, I will not close down London Heathrow so you can move the 'night do' there."
"What a shame. Mary and John will be extremely d…" Sherlock said, insincerely.
"... delighted not to have me hanging around." Mycroft said.
"Oh, I don't know. There should always be a spectre at the feast."
"So, this is it, then." Mycroft said, picking up a glass of juice from the table. "The big day." He sits down in an armchair. "I suppose I'll be seeing a lot more of you and Jared from now on, brother, dear."
"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked.
"Just like old times. Except with Jared with you."
"No, I don't understand."
"Well, it's the end of an era, isn't it? John and Mary – domestic bliss."
"No, no, no – I prefer to think of it as the beginning of a new chapter." Sherlock said, while Mycroft simply smiles. "What?"
"Nothing!" Mycroft yelled.
"I know that silence. What?" Sherlock asked.
"Well, I'd better let you and Jared get back to it. You have a big speech, or something, don't you?"
"What?" Sherlock asked, still demanding an answer to his previous question.
"Sherlock, Mikey is right. We have cake and karaoke to get back to. A fuck ton of drinking." I said, picking up my glass of Rosé to drink it again. "Along with a ton of socializing."
"Mycroft!" Sherlock said, angrily.
"This is what people do, Sherlock – they get married. I warned you: don't get involved. Jared got himself involved a long time ago once he associated himself with you." Mycroft said.
"Involved? I'm not involved."
"No." Mycroft said, disbelievingly.
"John asked me to be his best man. How could I say no?"
"Absolutely!" Mycroft said, insincerely.
"I'm not involved!"
"I believe you! Really, I do! Have a lovely day, and do give the happy couple my best." Mycroft said, insincerely.
"I will." Sherlock said, lowering the phone, about to switch it off when Mycroft speaks again.
"This is as good as the Ponds' wedding day." I said, as Sherlock lifted the phone to his ear once more. "Albeit less of the drunk giraffe."
"Oh, by the way, Sherlock – do you remember Redbeard?" Mycroft asked.
Sherlock's jaw tightens, "I'm not a child any more, Mycroft."
"No, of course you're not. Enjoy not getting involved, Sherlock. Jared, do take care of my little brother." Mycroft said.
"I will." I said, and Sherlock hung up. "Talk to you later, Mikey."
Sherlock looked down for a moment, then dragged me across the room towards the top table.
Fast-forward – literally – through the wedding meal as the guests eat their way through the three courses and drink lots of champagne, and then the Master of Ceremonies – or possibly just the head waiter – taps a spoon against a champagne glass to get everyone's attention.
"Pray silence for the best man." The Master of Ceremonies said.
The guests applaud and cheer as Sherlock rises to his feet at the top table. John and Mary are sitting to his right; Janine and I to his left.
Sherlock buttons his jacket, looking a little uncomfortable.
"Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends ... and ... erm ... others." Sherlock said, stopping and blinks. There's an awkward pause. "Er ... w…" John narrows his eyes and looks up at him. "A-a-also …"
Mary lifts a thumb to her mouth, rubbing it on her top lip. Mrs Hudson looks nervous and Greg sits back a little, looking concerned.
(Open POV)
FLASHBACK…
Greg walks into Molly's lab at Bart's.
"Greg." Molly said.
"Molly." Lestrade said.
"I just had a thought." Molly said, turning to Lestrade, holding a large metal bowl.
Lestrade looks into the large metal bowl, "Is that a brain?!"
"What if John asks Sherlock to be his best man instead of asking Jared?" Molly asked.
"Well, he will, won't he? He's bound to." Lestrade said.
"Exactly."
"So?"
"So he'll have to make a speech in front of people. Sherlock will have to make a speech, not Jared, in front of people." Molly said, and Greg gazes into the distance as if realising the ramifications of this for the first time. "There'll be actual people there, actually listening."
"Well, what's the worst that could happen?" Lestrade asked, tentatively.
"Helen Louise probably wondered the same."
"Helen Louise?"
Molly pointedly looks down at the brain in her bowl.
FLASHBACK…
Mrs Hudson, sitting in her kitchen, answers the phone, "Oh, hallo, dear."
Molly is on the other end of the line, again in her lab. She is wearing safety goggles and there is blood spatter on her lab coat. She is holding an electric bone saw in the blood-covered glove on her other hand.
"I was just thinking. If-if John does ask Sherlock instead of asking Jared …" Molly said, into her phone.
"What, the speech, dear? No, it'll be fine." Mrs Hudson said.
"It-it's not just the speech, though, is it?"
Shortly afterwards, John lets himself in the front door of 221 and walks towards the stairs. High-pitched hysterical noises are coming through the open door of 221A. As the noises continue, punctuated with an occasional squeal of, 'Oh, dear!' and 'Oh, brilliant!'
John goes into her flat and looks into the kitchen in concern, "Mrs Hudson?"
Mrs Hudson waves to John from where she is sitting at the table, laughing hysterically.
"Oh, hello, darling!" Mrs Hudson said, continuing to giggle.
"You all right?" John asked, as Mrs Hudson covered her mouth, laughing. "I was – I was coming to see Sherlock and Jared, and I thought you were …"
"Go!" Mrs Hudson said, giggling.
"... possibly dying." John said, grinning at the sight of Mrs Hudson's mirth.
"Oh, sorry!" Mrs Hudson said, continuing laughing.
"What's wrong?"
"The-the telegrams!" Mrs Hudson said, giggling.
"Sorry, what?" John asked, grinning but clearly with no idea what Mrs Hudson means.
"Oh, sorry, dear!" Mrs Hudson said, giggling, then standing up, patting John's arm and walking away, still shrieking with laughter.
John looks bemused.
(Jared's POV)
THE PRESENT…
John closes his eyes in realisation.
"Telegrams." John said, quietly. "I really should have asked Jared instead of Sherlock to be my best man."
Mary looks at John and Sherlock jolts out of his blankness.
"Right, um …" Sherlock said, patting his pockets, then seems to realise that the telegrams are in a pile in front of him.
John clears his throat. Sherlock does likewise and looks at the guests, swallowing hard.
"First things first. Telegrams." Sherlock said, picking up the cards and shows them to the guests before talking at a quick fire rate. "Well, they're not actually telegrams. We just call them telegrams. I don't know why. Wedding tradition." He lifts the first card before talking sarcastically. "... because we don't have enough of that already, apparently." John narrows his eyes a little and Sherlock reads a card. "'To Mr and Mrs Watson. So sorry I'm unable to be with you on your special day. Good luck and best wishes, Mike Stamford'."
"Ah, Mike." John said, smiling.
"Ahh!" Mary said, happily.
"Mike, part of the reason you two met!" I said, excitedly.
"'To John and Mary. All good wishes for your special day. With love and many big …' Sherlock said, reading the next card, before breaking off, then continues slowly. "... big squishy cuddles, from Stella and Ted'." He looks up, blinking rapidly. Greg sniggers and Molly smiles as Sherlock reads the next card. "'Mary – lots of love, …'"
Sherlock breathes out an almost silent 'Oh.' John, Mary, and I look up at him.
"Sherlock, you okay?" I asked, looking over at Sherlock.
"I'm fine." Sherlock said, under his breath.
"Yeah?" John asked.
"'... poppet …'" Sherlock said, disparagingly before loudly sounds the 't' at the end of the word. John, Mary, and I giggle. "'... Oodles of love and heaps of good wishes from CAM.'"
Mary's smile and my smile fade.
"Right…" I said, sadly.
Sherlock continues reading the message, "Wish your family could have seen this."
John looks round and sees Mary's face.
John reaches out and takes Mary's hand, "Hey. Hmm?"
Mary smiles reassuringly at John.
"Um, 'special day' …" Sherlock said, looking at the next card before dropping it onto the table and looks at the next one. "... 'very special day' …" He drops that one, then continues working rapidly through the next ones. "... 'love' ... 'love' ... 'love' ... 'love' ... 'lo…'; bit of a theme – you get the general gist. People are basically fond."
There's some laughter from the guests and me.
"John Watson." John said, looking at the guests and gestured towards John. "One of my friends, John Watson." He looks down for a moment, then looks at John. "John." John smiles at Sherlock and the consulting detective turns to his audience again. "When John first broached the subject of being best man, and when Jared sided with John, I was confused."
FLASHBACK….
John trots up the stairs to 221B, "Sherlock? Jared?"
"What was that noise downstairs?" Sherlock asked, from the kitchen.
John turns into the kitchen. Sherlock is standing at the table in his camel coloured dressing gown. Wearing safety glasses, he is holding an eyeball with a large pair of tweezers and is holding a lit blowtorch near to the optic nerve dangling behind it. I am playing Super Mario RPG on my Nintendo Switch.
"Er, it was Mrs Hudson laughing." John said.
"Sounded like she was torturing an owl." Sherlock said.
"Nope. It was laughter." I said, looking up from my Nintendo Switch. "She was laughing. I would too."
"Could have been both."
"Busy?" John asked, looking at what Sherlock and I were doing.
Sherlock sighs heavily and I roll my eyes.
"Just occupying ourselves." Sherlock said, lifting his head and looking dramatically towards the ceiling. "Sometimes, it's so-o-o hard not smoking and it's so-o-o hard for Jared to not be traveling across all of time and space."
"Yeah. I want to see the world again. But there are some big threats ahead for us here." I said, while the eyeball slips out of the tweezers and drops with a splash into a mug on the table. "I can't spoil it but it's bad."
Sherlock looks down at the eyeball, "Oh."
"Mm-hmm. Mind if I interrupt?" John asked, as I turned off my Nintendo Switch that is docked into the TV.
"Er, be my guest." Sherlock said, putting down the tweezers and gesturing to the chair at the end of the table.
"Sure." I said, and Sherlock switches off the blowtorch and puts it down while John walks over and pulls back the chair from the table.
Sherlock picks up the mug and offers it to John, "Tea?"
"Er …" John said, shaking one hand to decline the offer.
"He doesn't want it." I said, while Sherlock puts down the mug and takes off his glasses. "It is a bit of an eyesore."
"Eyesore." John said, chuckling before sitting down. "So. The big question."
"Mm-hm." Sherlock said, turning to face John.
"The best man." John said, folding his hands and putting them onto the table in front of him.
"The best man?" Sherlock asked.
"What do you think?"
"Billy Kincaid." Sherlock said, instantly.
"Wait. What?" I asked, walking away from my Nintendo Switch that is docked to the TV and placing the Pro Controller on the table. "Who's that?"
"Billy Kincaid, the Camden Garrotter. Best man I ever knew. Vast contributions to charity, never disclosed." Sherlock said, at a quick fire rate, causing John to frown, as the consulting detective went back to the quick fire rate. "Personally managed to save three hospitals from closure and ran the best and safest children's homes in north England."
John tiredly rubs his fingers over his eyes.
"Yes, every now and again there'd be some garrottings, but stacking up the lives saved against the garrottings, on balance I'd say …" Sherlock said, grimacing briefly.
"For my wedding! For me. I need a best man." John said, interrupting.
"You really do, John." I said, taking out some chocolate chip cookies from my sling back to snack on them. "I don't want it."
"I know. You want it to be him."
"I do."
"Oh, right." Sherlock said, rolling his eyes.
"Maybe not a garrotter." John said.
"Gavin?"
"Who?"
"Gavin Lestrade? He's a man, and good at it."
"It's Greg. And he's not one of my best friends."
"Oh, Mike Stamford, I see. Well, he's nice, um, though I'm not sure how well he'd cope with all …" Sherlock said.
"No, Mike's great, but he's not one of my best friends." John said, interrupting Sherlock, as the consulting detective looks thoughtfully at him as if he can't think of another friend to suggest. "Look, Sherlock, this is the biggest and most important day of my life. And Jared knows that this is the biggest and most important day of my life."
"Well …" Sherlock said, dubiously, pulling a face.
"No, it is! It is, and I want to be up there with the three people that I love and care about most in the world." John said.
"Yes." Sherlock said, as John nods.
"He is an idiot, isn't he?" I asked, and I'm laughing a lot.
Clearly oblivious, Sherlock waits for John to tell him who these people are.
"He really is." John said, while I'm walking towards him and Sherlock. "So, Mary Morstan … Jared Shay …"
"Yes." Sherlock said.
"... and …" John said, sighing tightly and looking up at Sherlock, who is still patiently waiting for further information, and eventually, the army doctor pulls in a long breath. "... you."
Sherlock blinks rapidly several times but otherwise doesn't move or react.
RECEPTION…
"I confess at first, I didn't realise he was asking me. When, finally I understood, I expressed to him that I was both flattered and ... surprised." Sherlock said.
FLASHBACK…
Sherlock has frozen solid, staring blankly in John's direction but not actually looking at him.
"John, you broke him…" I said, looking between Sherlock and John.
"Did I?" John asked, tapping his foot patiently.
RECEPTION…
"I explained to him that I'd never expected this request and I was a little daunted in the face of it." Sherlock said.
FLASHBACK…
Sherlock is still motionless.
"Sherlock." John said, as Sherlock doesn't react.
RECEPTION…
"I nonetheless promised that I would do my very best to accomplish a task which was – for me – as demanding and difficult as any I had ever contemplated. Additionally, I thanked him for the trust he'd placed in me …" Sherlock said, and John frowns as if unable to remember this conversation. "... and indicated that I was, in some ways, very close to being ... moved by it."
FLASHBACK…
Sherlock is still fixed in place, staring sightlessly ahead of him. The silence drags on for long seconds.
"That's getting a bit scary now." John said.
"It really is." I said, grabbing John's hand.
RECEPTION…
"It later transpired that I had said none of this out loud." Sherlock said.
John and I laugh, and some of the guests join in.
FLASHBACK…
Sherlock's brain finally begins to reboot and he takes a breath. He swallows and narrows his eyes slightly as he refocuses and looks at John.
"So, in fact …" Sherlock said, thinking for a moment. "You-you mean …"
"Yes." John said.
"I'm one of your …" Sherlock said, as John nodded. "... best …"
"... man." John said.
"... friends?" Sherlock asked, almost simultaneously.
"Yeah, 'course you are. 'Course you're one of my best friends." John said, smiling.
Without looking down, Sherlock absently picks up the mug from the table and raises it towards his mouth.
"I am your other best friend." I said, and I'm still laughing.
John watches with interest while he takes a long slurping drink and then swallows, "Well, how was that?"
Sherlock licks his lips, thinks about it for a moment, then nods, "Surprisingly okay."
Inside the mug, the eyeball pops up to the surface of the tea.
"So you'll have to make a speech, of course." John said.
"One of the most funny and awkward speeches ever." I said, continuing to laugh. "I know how it'll go, Sherlock."
Sherlock offlines again for a moment, then looks at John and I.
RECEPTION….
Sherlock reaches into his jacket pocket, clearing his throat, and takes out a handful of cue cards, looking at each one and putting it onto the table as he talks to himself.
"Done that. ... Done that ... Done that bit ... Done that bit ... Done that bit ... Hmm …" Sherlock said, looking up at the guests again, then turns to John. "I'm afraid, John, I can't congratulate you."
Mary looks surprised and John looks up at him.
"All emotions, and in particular love, stand opposed to the pure, cold reason I hold above all things. A wedding is, in my considered opinion, nothing short of a celebration of all that is false and specious and irrational and sentimental in this ailing and morally compromised world." Sherlock said, looking at the guests.
The guests begin to look uncomfortable and some of them start murmuring quietly to each other. Greg, Molly, and I look at Sherlock in horror.
"Sherlock…" I said, letting out a sigh. "Rude..."
"Today we honour the death-watch beetle that is the doom of our society and, in time – one feels certain – our entire species." Sherlock said, while the guests stared at him as the consulting detective pauses for a moment. "But anyway …" He looks down at his cards. "... let's talk about John."
"Please." John said, quietly.
"If I burden myself with a little help-mate during my adventures, it is not out of sentiment or caprice – it is that he has many fine qualities of his own that he has overlooked in his obsession with me as Jared also has an obsession with me." Sherlock said, looking up again and Greg laughed silently. "Indeed, any reputation I have for mental acuity and sharpness comes, in truth, from the extraordinary contrast John so selflessly provides with Jared. John sighs heavily, while Mary and I frown. "It is a fact, I believe, that brides tend to favour exceptionally plain bridesmaids for their big day. There is a certain analogy there, I feel."
Janine stares up at Sherlock and the other two bridesmaids look uncomfortable.
"... and contrast is, after all, God's own plan to enhance the beauty of his creation …" Sherlock said, moving on to his next card and the vicar smiles. "... or it would be if God were not a ludicrous fantasy designed to provide a career opportunity for the family idiot."
Mary and I face-palm and John is half-hiding behind his clasped hands.
"Idiot…" I said, reaching into my sling bag to take out my glass of Rosé. "You idiot."
The vicar looks at Sherlock grimly, and more guests are muttering amongst themselves. Sherlock pauses for a moment.
"The point I'm trying to make is that I am the most unpleasant, rude, ignorant and all-round obnoxious arsehole that anyone could possibly have the misfortune to meet." Sherlock said, looking at the vicar. "I am dismissive of the virtuous …" He turns to Janine. "... unaware of the beautiful …" Sherlock turns towards Mary and John, then at me. "... and uncomprehending in the face of the happy. So if I didn't understand I was being asked to be best man, it is because I never expected to be anybody's best friend." The guests have fallen silent again and are listening intently. Molly and Greg exchange a long glance. "Certainly not one of the best friends of the bravest and kindest and wisest human beings I have ever had the good fortune of knowing." Mary smiles proudly at her husband. Several of the guests make appreciative 'aww' sounds. "John, I am a ridiculous man …" John smiles and nods his agreement. "... redeemed only by the warmth and constancy of your friendship. But, as I'm apparently one of your best friends, I cannot congratulate you on your choice of companion." He looks down for a moment, then smiles a little. "Actually, now I can." The guests murmur again, but now their tone is much more approving. John, Mary, and I smile. "Mary, when I say you deserve this man, it is the highest compliment of which I am capable. John, you have endured war, and injury, and tragic loss …" Sherlock leans closer to John. "... so sorry again about that last one …" He straightens up again. "... so know this: today you sit between the woman you have made your wife and the men you have saved – in short, the three people who love you most in all this world. And I know I speak for Mary and Jared as well when I say we will never let you down, and we have a lifetime ahead to prove that."
"We do." I said, as Mrs Hudson whimpers and holds a tissue to her nose. "We definitely do."
Molly wipes tears from her eyes with her serviette. Other guests – even some of the men – sniffle.
John turns to Mary and whispers to her, "If I try and hug Sherlock, stop me."
"Certainly not." Mary said, patting John's arm.
"Definitely not." I said, and Sherlock moves on to his next card.
"Ah, yes. Now on to some funny stories about John …" Sherlock said, trailing off as he looks up and sees so many of the guests crying, before talking at a quick fire rate. "What's wrong? What happened? Why are you all doing that? John? Jared?"
Molly smiles proudly at Sherlock.
"Oh, Sherlock!" Mrs Hudson said, tearfully.
"Sherlock. You ass!" I said, excitedly.
Sherlock looks down at John, "Did I do it wrong?"
"No, you didn't. Come here. Both of you." John said, standing up and pulled Sherlock and I into a tight hug.
"John…" I said, holding my glass of Rosé. "I'm sorry I didn't do the best man speech."
"It's alright, Jared. You didn't have to."
The guests break into applause.
"I haven't finished yet." Sherlock said.
"Yeah, I know, I know." John said.
"So, on to some funny stories …" Sherlock said, holding up his next card and talking over the applause as John releases him and me.
"Can you – can you wait 'til we sit down?" John asked.
"Please…" I said, when Sherlock nodded as the applause continued. "Don't make this awkward, Sherlock."
"I won't." Sherlock said, and John and I sit down, with the army doctor clearing his throat, and the applause finally fades. "So, on to some funny stories about John." John chuckles as the consulting detective looks at the guests. "If you could all just cheer up a bit, that would …" The guests laugh. "... be better. On we go. So, for funny stories …" He reaches into his pocket and takes out his phone. "... one has to look no further than John's blog."
Sherlock holds up the phone.
John laughs and turns to speak quietly to Mary, "Here we go."
"The record of our time together. Of course, he does tend to romanticise things a bit, and Jared helps John romanticize it, but then, you know …" Sherlock said, looking down at John, Mary, and I and half-winks at us. "... they're romantics. We've tackled some strange cases: the Hollow Client …"
FLASHBACK…
John, Sherlock, and I walk up the stairs and into the living room of 221B, then stop dead at the sight which greets us. In John's chair which is facing towards the door is a suit, laid out exactly as it would appear if there was actually anyone inside it and sitting in the chair. There is even a pair of shoes at the bottom of the trousers.
RECEPTION…
"... the Poison Giant …" Sherlock said.
FLASHBACK…
A man is running across a rooftop. He is a person of short stature. He stops and raises a blowpipe to his lips.
"Get down, John, Jared!" Sherlock yelled.
"Right." I said, when the man blows into the pipe and on the other side of the roof Sherlock, John, and I duck down to avoid the dart which flies out of it.
We immediately jumped up again and ran in pursuit of the man.
RECEPTION…
"We've had some frustrating cases …" Sherlock said.
FLASHBACK…
In 221B, John sits down at the dining table with a mug of tea. He looks across to Sherlock sitting in his chair, who is running his finger across his top lip and frowning down thoughtfully at a matchbox held in his other hand as I am playing Splatoon 3 on my Nintendo Switch.
"What is that?" John asked.
Sherlock looks at John and I, "A French decathlete found completely out of his mind, surrounded by one thousand, eight hundred and twelve matchboxes – all empty except this one."
"And what's in that one?" John asked.
"The inexplicable." Sherlock said, looking at the matchbox.
"This case should be called 'the Inexplicable Matchbox'." I said, while Sherlock slowly pushes open the matchbox. "Can't think of anything else to call it, John."
Whatever is inside glows brightly, illuminating Sherlock's face. He grins with delight.
RECEPTION…
"... 'touching' cases …" Sherlock said, rolling his eyes.
FLASHBACK…
John and I are standing at the window of 221B looking down into the street.
"She's going to ring the doorbell." John said, as he and I are looking at a young woman who is hovering outside Speedy's and looking towards 221's front door.
"Nope." I said, when the young woman stopped and then turned around. "Oh, no. I think she changed her mind."
The woman walked away a few paces, then stopped and turned around again.
"No, she's gonna do it ... No, she's leaving. She's leaving. ... Oh, she's coming back." John said.
Sherlock is sprawled in his chair with his head raised towards the ceiling. His eyes are closed.
"She's a client. She's boring. I've seen those symptoms before." Sherlock said.
"Hmm?" John asked.
"What's up?" I asked, sipping on my green tea.
"Oscillation on the pavement always means there's a love affair." Sherlock said.
RECEPTION…
"... and of course I have to mention the elephant in the room." Sherlock said.
FLASHBACK…
Sherlock, John, and I stand in the doorway of what looks like a fairly ordinary room somewhere. We stare up wide-eyed at what we can see inside.
"Wanna talk about the elephant in the room." I said, when Sherlock opened his mouth. "And I do mean that in the literal sense."
The elephant trumpets loudly. Sherlock closes his mouth again and I am laughing a lot.
RECEPTION…
"But we want something ... very particular for this special day, don't we?" Sherlock asked, looking down at his phone, then raising his eyes again. "The Bloody Guardsman."
FLASHBACK…
I closed my eyes and thought about John's blog entry entitled 'The Bloody Guardsman' and opened them to a view of Sherlock standing in the living room of 221B looking at his information wall behind the sofa. Sherlock turns to where Mary is sitting at the dining table with me playing Super Mario RPG on my Nintendo Switch and John is sitting in his armchair and looking at his phone.
"Need to work on your half of the church, Mary. Looking a bit thin." Sherlock said, sadly.
"Yup. Your side is empty, Mary." I said, frowning.
"Ah, orphan's lot. Friends – that's all I have. Lots of friends." Mary said, smiling.
"I know you do." I said, placing my Nintendo Switch inside my sling bag and walking over to the paperwork on the wall where Sherlock is organising the hell out of the wedding.
There is a list of things which need to be done, all of them ticked off, and the wall is divided into areas which are headed, 'Transport', 'Catering', 'Rehearsal', 'Wine', and probably other items too. On the table beside Mary is a cardboard 3D model of the reception venue.
"Schedule the organ music to begin at precisely 11:48." Sherlock said.
"The rehearsal isn't for two weeks. Calm down, Sherlock." I said, picking up my mug of peppermint mocha.
"Calm? I am calm. I'm extremely calm." Sherlock said.
"Let's get back to the reception. Come on, Sherlock and Jared." Mary said, while Sherlock and I walked over to the table where Mary handed us RSVP cards. "John's cousin. Top table?"
"Hmm. Hates you. Can't even bear to think about you." Sherlock said, looking at the card.
"Seriously?" Mary asked, looking up at Sherlock.
"Second class post, cheap card …" Sherlock said, sniffing the card and grimaces. "... bought at a petrol station. Look at the stamp: three attempts at licking. She's obviously unconsciously retaining saliva."
"Ah." Mary said, looking over shoulder to John. "Let's stick her by the bogs."
"Oh yes." Sherlock said, sitting down.
Mary leans closer to Sherlock, "Who else hates me?"
Instantly Sherlock hands Mary a sheet of paper. There's a long list of names on it.
"Oh great – thanks!" Mary said, annoyed.
"Priceless painting nicked. Looks interesting." John said, looking at his phone.
"Table four …" Mary said, looking at the paperwork on the table.
"Done." Sherlock said.
"'My husband is three people.'" John said, chuckling at something on his phone screen.
"Table five." Mary said.
"Major James Sholto. Who is he?" Sherlock asked, looking at a list.
"It's John's old commanding officer. Don't think he's coming though." I said, sadly.
"He'll be there." John said.
"Well, he needs to RSVP, then." Mary said.
"He'll be there." John said, firmly.
"Mmm …"
"'My husband is three people.' It's interesting. Says he has three distinct patterns of moles on his skin." John said, reading a case from his phone.
"Identical triplets – one in half a million births. Solved it without leaving the flat. Now, serviettes." Sherlock said, standing up and speaking quick fire before squatting down beside the coffee table, reaches under it and pulls out a tray with two serviettes folded into different shapes and gestures to them as he looks up at Mary. "Swan, or Sydney Opera House?"
"Where'd you learn to do that?!" Mary exclaimed.
"Many unexpected skills required in the field of criminal investigation …" Sherlock said, looking down.
"Sherlock, you're lying." I said, rolling my eyes.
"I once broke an alibi by demonstrating the exact severity of …"
"Sherlock, Mary and I aren't John."
"He's right. We can tell when you're fibbing." Mary said.
"Okay – I learned it on YouTube." Sherlock said, exasperated.
"Opera House, please." Mary said, leaning to one side and reaching into her trouser pocket. "Ooh, hang on. I'm buzzing." She takes out her phone and lifts it to her ear. "Hello?" She listens for a second, then stands up. "Oh, hi, Beth!"
John's eyes lift from his phone as Mary heads for the kitchen.
"Yeah, yeah, don't see why not." Mary said, talking into her phone.
"Actually, if that's Beth, it's probably for me too. Hang on." John said, standing up and looking at Sherlock before heading for the kitchen.
"This is going to take a while." I said, while Sherlock sits down on the floor cross-legged and facing the coffee table.
Kitchen…
John smiles at Mary as he walks closer to her. They talk quietly.
"Sherlock knows we don't have a friend called Beth. He's gonna figure out that it's code and Jared knows the code but gave us the personal space we needed." John said.
"Sherlock's YouTube-ing serviettes." Mary said.
"Sherlock's thorough."
"Sherlock's terrified."
"'Course Sherlock's not."
"Right, you know when you're scared of something, you start wishing it sooner just to get it all going? That's what Sherlock's doing."
"Why would Sherlock be scared that we're getting married? Jared's happy that we're getting married. It's not gonna change anything – we'll still do stuff." John said.
"Well, you need to prove it to Sherlock. You don't need to prove anything to Jared. I told you to find Sherlock a new case." Marry said.
"I'm trying."
"You need to run Sherlock, okay? Show him it's still the good old days." Mary said, nodding encouragingly to John.
"She's right, you know." I said, as John didn't immediately respond, and Mary nodded again and gestured towards the living room when I entered the kitchen. "He's so slow."
"He is." Mary said, and John looks around, then turns and slowly starts towards the door between the kitchen and the living room. "Ready?"
"Yeah." I said, putting my hands on John's back and shoves him forward. "Go get 'em, tiger."
221B Baker Street…
Sherlock is still sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the coffee table, his head propped up on one hand. He briefly looks round at John, then turns back and gestures at what's in front of him. There are at least seven serviettes folded in Sydney Opera House shapes on the table, and sixteen or so more on the floor.
"That just sort of ... happened." Sherlock said, looking round at John again, who frowns but then smiles.
Glancing back into the kitchen for a moment, Sherlock walks towards John.
"Sherlock, um …" John said, and Sherlock stood up. "... mate …" Again he frowns briefly, perhaps wondering if he is overdoing it. "I-I've …"
Sherlock walks over to the dining table. Sherlock glances towards the kitchen where Mary can be heard talking as if she's on a phone call as I am playing on my Nintendo Switch at the dining room table, then they both sit down at the table.
"I've smelled eighteen different perfumes; I've sampled …" John said, stopping to think. "... nine different slices of cake which all tasted identical; I like the bridesmaids in purple …"
"It's lilac." I said, still looking down at my Nintendo Switch, with Super Mario RPG up.
I then turned off my Nintendo Switch and placed it back inside my sling bag.
"... lilac. Um, there are no more decisions left to make. I don't even understand the decisions that we have made. I'm faking opinions and it's exhausting, so please, before she comes back …" John said, glancing towards the kitchen, activates his phone, clears his throat and holds the phone across the table. The screen is showing Sherlock's 'Science of Deduction' website. "... pick something." Sherlock's eyes flicker down to the screen a couple of times. "Anything. Pick one."
"Pick what?" Sherlock asked.
John blinks a few times and then laughs, "A case. Sherlock, your Inbox is bursting. Just ... get me and Jared out of here."
"You want to go out on a case? N-now?" Sherlock asked, leaning closer and speaking quietly.
"Please, Sherlock, for me and Jared." John said, when Sherlock took the phone.
"Don't you worry about a thing. I'll get you and Jared out of this." Sherlock said, quietly.
"Give me that." I said, grabbing the phone from Sherlock and starting to flick through messages on his website. After only a few seconds, I found something of interest that would keep Sherlock busy and I showed the case to him. "This one."
"Oh." Sherlock said, grabbing the phone from me to look at John's phone.
(Open POV)
Military barracks inside a grand building…
Two members of The Queen's Foot Guards wearing full dress uniform and carrying their tall fur bearskin caps walk up the stairs. The voice of one of them narrates his message to Sherlock.
"Dear Mr Holmes, My name is Bainbridge. I'm a Private in Her Majesty's Household Guard. I'm writing to you about a personal matter …" Bainbridge said, as a voice over.
Outside Wellington Barracks in London…
Bainbridge is one of two men standing on duty outside the gates in the full uniform of the Welsh Guards. A Japanese tourist stands beside him posing with her thumbs up while her male friend takes photographs.
"'... one I don't care to bring before my superiors – it would sound so trivial – but I think someone's stalking me." Bainbridge said, as a voice over.
Over the other side of the road, three tourists are taking photos of the view. Bainbridge – with his gaze fixed ahead of him as he must do while on duty – has a clear view of them.
"I'm used to tourists – it's part of the job – but this is different. Someone's watching me." Bainbridge said, as a voice over.
The tourists over the road walk away. Standing behind them is a man with the hood of his jacket pulled up and obscuring the view of his face. He seems to be looking directly at Bainbridge but as soon as the tourists are no longer blocking him, he turns and walks away.
"He's taking pictures of me every day." Bainbridge said, as a voice over.
The barracks…
Bainbridge walks across what may be his bedroom or dorm room, which overlooks the parade ground. He is bare chested. He idly looks out of the window and sees the usual group of tourists outside the gates but his attention is immediately drawn to a man wearing an overcoat and with a cap on his head. The man is standing close to the fence and is initially aiming his camera in a different direction, but he then swings the camera across and up to point at Bainbridge in the window.
"Don't want to mention it to the major, but it's really preying on my mind." Bainbridge said, as a voice over.
The man snaps a couple of photographs, then hurries away.
(Jared's POV)
221B Baker Street…
"Uniform fetishist. 'All the nice girls like a soldier.'" Sherlock said, still looking at John's phone.
"It's 'sailor', Sherlock. Bainbridge thinks his stalker is a guy." I said, rolling my eyes.
Sherlock looks at the phone again, perhaps reading more of Bainbridge's email.
"Let's go and investigate. Please?" John asked.
"'Elite Guard'." Sherlock said, still reading the case.
"Forty enlisted men and officers."
"Why this particular Grenadier? Curious."
"Now you're talking."
"Okay." Sherlock said, handing John his phone back.
We stand up and walk towards the doors just as Mary comes back into the room with her phone in her ear.
"'Bye." Mary said, talking into her phone.
"Er, we're just going to ... I need, um, Sherlock and Jared to help me choose some, er, socks." John said, simultaneously, as Sherlock said this. "... ties."
"Why don't we go with socks?" Mary asked, looking at Sherlock, then John, and finally at me.
"Yeah." John said.
"I mean, you've got to get the right ones."
"Exactly – to go with my …"
"... tie." Sherlock said, simultaneously, when John said this. "... outfit."
"That'll take a while, right?" Mary asked, looking at John.
John points towards the kitchen, "My coat in there?"
"Yes!" Mary said, happily.
John walks into the kitchen and Mary, Sherlock and I walk closer together.
"Just going to take them out for a bit – run them." Sherlock said, quietly.
"I know." Mary said, when Sherlock smiles at her with the former assassin gesturing happily towards him. "You said you'd find them a case!"
"Mm." Sherlock said.
"Mary, I promise I'll look after your Baker Street Boys." I said, smiling.
"I know you will, Jared." Mary said, giving me a hug. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. Rosamund Mary." I said, quietly. "I know you can look after yourself."
"I'm grateful you know my secret." Mary said, whispering into my ear.
"Come on, Sherlock, Jared." John said, from the kitchen doorway.
"Coming." Sherlock said, turning and going to the living room door with me, then turned back to face Mary. "Jared. What were you talking to Mary about?"
"It's between me and Mary. You'll find out in due time. I promise." I said, while unseen by each other, Sherlock does a double thumbs-up at Mary and gives her a 'only the three of us know about what we're doing here' grin, while from the kitchen, John circles his thumb and forefinger at Mary and winks much the same message. "Even if it's the long way around."
Mary holds up her thumbs to Sherlock, John, and I and grins widely. The three of us turn and head for the stairs.
Baker Street…
Going out of the front door, Sherlock finishes putting his coat on and calls out to an approaching cab.
"Taxi!" Sherlock yelled.
Barracks…
There are a few interspersed scenes of a group of Guards marching back to the barracks, and Sherlock, John, and I are making our way to the barracks themselves. The Guards arrive back and are in the parade ground marching into position preparing to be dismissed.
"Company, halt! ... Right turn!" The parade sergeant said.
Sherlock, John, and I are at the entrance to the barracks.
John has given his wallet containing his military ID card to the duty sergeant, "We're here to see Private Stephen Bainbridge."
"We really are." I said, taking out my psychic paper and showing it to the duty sergeant. "You might have heard of me."
"He's on duty right now, sirs …" The duty sergeant said, handing John his wallet back. "... but I'll certainly let him know when he's free."
"And when will that be?" Sherlock asked.
"Another hour."
Bainbridge, with another Foot Guard, is on duty outside the gates of the barracks. He stands fixed in position and tourists take photographs. Over the other side of the road and a few yards back from the pavement, Sherlock, John, and I are sitting on a bench in the park looking towards the gates.
"Do you think they give them classes?" Sherlock asked.
"Classes?" John asked.
"How to resist the temptation to scratch their behinds?"
"Afferent neurons in the peripheral nervous system." John said, while Sherlock turns his head slightly in the army doctor's direction. "Bum itch."
"Oh!" Sherlock said, as we sat in silence for a few seconds. "So why don't you see him any more?"
"Who?"
"Your previous commander, Sholto."
"'Previous commander'."
"I meant 'ex'." Sherlock said, briefly closing his eyes awkwardly.
"'Previous' suggests that I currently have a commander." John said.
"You don't have one, John. Not since you've retired, joined us, then become engaged to Mary." I said, happily.
"Which I don't." John said. "When it comes to the commander bit."
"'Course you don't. He was decorated, wasn't he? A war hero." Sherlock said with a small smile.
"Not to everyone. He led a team of crows into battle."
"'Crows'?"
"It's new recruits." I said, smiling.
"It's standard procedure; break the new boys in – but it went wrong. They all died; he was the only survivor. The press and the families gave him hell. He gets more death threats than you." John said, looking at Sherlock.
"Oh, I wouldn't count on that." Sherlock said.
"Why have you suddenly taken an interest in another human being?"
"I'm ... chatting." Sherlock said, and John raises his eyebrows and looks round at him.
"John, Sherlock's jealous." I said, while Sherlock half-turns his head and looks at John and I out of the corner of his eye.
"Of Major Sholto?" John asked.
"Yup. He's jealous because Sherlock thought he was the first fascinating thing in your life."
"Fair point."
"Jared, I can't believe you told John that." Sherlock said, turning his head back to the front. "Won't be trying that again."
"Changing the subject completely …" John said, pulling in a breath through his nose, then looks at Sherlock again. "... you know it won't alter anything, right, me and Mary, getting married? The three of us will still be doing all this."
"Oh, good."
"If you were worrying."
"Wasn't worried."
"Liar." I said, as John looks down and chuckles thoughtfully. "You were so worried John was going to leave you."
"Was not!"
"Are too!"
"Not! Sherlock said, angrily.
"Are too!" I said, excitedly.
"See, the thing about Mary – she has completely turned my life around; changed everything. But, for the record, over the last few years there are three people who have done that ... and the third one is …" John said, as he looks round and Sherlock is no longer sitting at his side. "... a complete dickhead."
John looks all around the park but there is no sign of said dickhead and walks away with me.
(Open POV)
Inside the barracks, the duty sergeant sits at his desk looking through paperwork. Through the window behind him, three pairs of Guards march past, only the upper part of their bodies and their bearskins visible. A seventh bearskin-wearing person marches behind them ... except that this one is wearing a highly non-regulation Belstaff coat.
Outside, Sherlock marches along behind the others, smartly swinging his arms, then he stops, takes off the bearskin and puts it down on a nearby ledge. Using the window above the ledge as a mirror, he ruffles his flattened hair back into position, then heads off across the parade ground.
Inside the barracks, he walks across the entrance hall towards one of two flights of stairs. Two Guards wearing standard khaki army attire walk down the other flight and Sherlock turns his head away from them and apparently instantly becomes invisible, because they take no notice of him. He trots up the stairs, employing the 'I'm invisible if I don't look at you' trick again partway up when two more soldiers walk across the landing, then he goes up onto the landing. Several voices can be heard talking and laughing from a nearby room, and he walks across and opens the door. Inside is a rec room where many soldiers are sitting and chatting. Two are playing table tennis and others are watching them. Sherlock must have gone into invisibility mode again, because nobody looks at him or reacts in any way. He closes the door again and moves on.
Outside the barracks, a new Guard has come to relieve Bainbridge. He marches over, turns to stand at Bainbridge's side and shuffles sideways until their shoulders touch. Bainbridge marches forward a few paces, then turns and marches into the barracks.
Inside, now holding his bearskin under his arm, he walks up the stairs. His face appears to be rather sweaty. He walks into the shower room, puts the bearskin down and undoes his white webbing belt, grimacing a little. Putting the belt down, he starts to unbutton his jacket.
Office…
An officer called Major Reed is sitting behind his desk and looking at John's military ID card and Jared's psychic paper. He looks up at John and Jared who are sitting opposite us.
"Can I ask what this is in connection with?" Reed asked.
"Private Bainbridge contacted us about a personal matter, sir." John said.
"Nothing's personal when it concerns my troops. What do you really want?"
"We're here on a legitimate inquiry."
"Press? Digging for some bloody Royal story or something?"
"No, sir, I'm Captain John Watson, Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers." John said, pointing at his ID card.
"You're retired, Captain. You could be a used car salesman now, for all I know."
"And I'm Jared Shay. I'm a Scientific Advisor of the Unified Intelligence Taskforce." Jared said, pointing at his psychic paper.
"UNIT. I can't believe she called you down here."
Shower room…
The duty sergeant walks into the shower room. One of the showers is running and steam billows across the floor.
"Bainbridge! Gentleman here to see you!" The duty sergeant said, walking across towards the cubicle. "Bainbridge!"
He raps on the closed door of the cubicle, then looks down. Through the almost-opaque door, Bainbridge can be seen slumped on the floor with his back against the door, and bloodstained water is pouring out of the cubicle.
REED'S OFFICE…
Major Reed looks closely at John and Jared.
"I know the both of you, don't I?" Reed asked.
"Hmm?" John asked.
Reed tosses John's card and Jared's psychic paper across the table.
"What do you mean?" Jared asked, sipping on a bottle of Coke.
John and Jared pick them up and the army doctor puts his ID back into his wallet as the fanboy placed his psychic paper back inside his pocket.
"I've seen you two in the papers." Reed said, while John and Jared clears their throat uncomfortably. "Hang around with that detective – the one with the silly hat. What the hell does Bainbridge want with a detective?"
"We're afraid we're not at liberty to say." John said.
"You're not at liberty to say?! He's a soldier in my regiment – I'll be damned if he's going to get up to cloak and dagger nonsense like this."
The duty sergeant hurries into the room.
"Sir …" The duty sergeant said, as he stops when he realises that Reed isn't alone in the room. "Sir."
"What's going on?" Reed asked.
"It's Bainbridge, sir. He's dead."
Looking horrified, Reed gets up and follows the sergeant out of the room. John and Jared hurries after them.
(Jared's POV)
Shower room…
Bainbridge is now lying face down on the floor on top of a great deal of broken glass. There is a lot of blood on his lower back. The duty sergeant leads the others in, and Reed hurries over to the body staring at it in shock.
"My God!" Reed said, terrified.
Sighing deeply at the sight, John walks towards Bainbridge but Reed holds up a hand to stop him, "Ah, no, let me take a look, sir. I'm a doctor."
"What? Sergeant, arrest these men." Reed said.
The duty sergeant instantly takes hold of John's left arm and twists it behind his back and one of the soldiers did the same to me.
"What? No! Stop it! John's really a doctor." I said, sadly.
"Oh, he's a doctor now, too. Sergeant …" Reed said, jerking his head towards the door.
"Let me examine him, please!" John said, worried.
The sergeant and one of the soldiers starts to pull John and I away but just then another sergeant comes in, bundling Sherlock into the room. He has Sherlock's right arm twisted up behind his back.
"Sir, caught this one snooping around." The sergeant said.
Reed looks at John and I, "Is that what this was all about? Distracting me so that this man could get in here and kill Bainbridge?"
"Don't be stupid. Sherlock couldn't have done it. And neither could we." I said, rolling my eyes.
Sherlock and I have pulled free of our sergeants and are walking forward to look more closely at the body. The sergeant follows us, taking hold of the consulting detective's arms and pulling him away again.
"Kill him with what? Where's the weapon?" Sherlock asked, looking at Reed.
"What?" Reed asked.
"Where's the weapon? Go on, search me." Sherlock said, holding his arms wide. "No weapon."
"Bainbridge was on parade. He came off duty five minutes ago. When's this supposed to have happened?" John asked.
"You obviously stabbed him before he got into the shower." Reed said, looking at Sherlock.
"No." Sherlock said.
"No?!" Reed exclaimed.
"He's soaking wet and there's still shampoo in his hair. He got into the shower and then someone stabbed him."
"The cubicle was locked from the inside, sir. I had to break it open." The duty sergeant said.
"You must have climbed over the top." Reed said.
"Well then I'd be soaking wet too, wouldn't I?" Sherlock asked.
"Major, please." John said, loudly. "I'm John Watson, Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers. Three years in Afghanistan, a veteran of Kandahar, Helmand, and Bart's bloody Hospital." He then went into a firm tone. "Let me examine this body." Reed looks down at the body for a long moment, then finally looks at the duty sergeant and nods sharply and the man releases the army doctor, who took his jacket off. "Thank you."
Walking forward, he puts the jacket onto a bench and then goes over to crouch down beside Bainbridge.
The duty sergeant talks quietly to Sherlock, "Suicide?"
"No. The weapon again – no knife." Sherlock said, walking to the front of the shower cubicle and bending down to look all around it, then squats down at Bainbridge's head.
John is examining Bainbridge's lower back, "Hmm. There is a wound to the abdomen – incredibly fine."
"Man stabbed to death. No murder weapon. Door locked from the inside. Only one way in or out of here."
John has moved to Bainbridge's head and has peeled one of his eyes open, "Sherlock. Jared."
"Mmm?" Sherlock asked.
"He's still breathing." John said, happily.
"Oh my God." The duty sergeant said, at a loss for words.
"What do we do?" Sherlock asked, looking at John.
"Sherlock, give me your scarf." John said.
"What?"
"Quickly, now." John said, while Sherlock unwraps his scarf from his neck, the army doctor looks up at me. "Jared, call Shirai Kuroko."
"What?" I asked, taking out my phone from inside my pocket.
"Call Shirai now." John said, loudly, with me hesitating, but he went into a firm tone. "Do it!"
"Right." I said, dialing Shirai and placing my phone near my ear. "Shirai? Yes. I know this is sudden. But can you teleport to where I'm calling you? We have a bit of a situation here. And an ambulance won't make it in time. Someone's life is on the line!"
I got the end call sound and placed my phone back inside my pocket.
John has pressed the scarf against the wound in Bainbridge's back and now he takes Sherlock's hand and puts it on top of the scarf, positioning his fingers where he wants them, "Nurse, press here – hard."
"'Nurse'?" Sherlock asked, wrinkling his nose in distaste.
"Yeah, I'm making do. Keep pressure on that wound." John said, and Sherlock leans closer so that he can press harder. "Is she coming?"
Shirai teleported inside as John moved to Bainbridge's head, "You called?"
"You're here." John said, holding Bainbridge's head. "Shirai, bring him to a nearby hospital."
"Right." Shirai said, walking to Bainbridge's body and leaning down towards it, placing her hand on the body. "I'll let you know where he'll be recovering."
"Thank you, Shirai." John said, watching Shirai teleport away with Bainbridge's body. "Stephen. Stephen, stay with me."