#I'm not even afraid of mice I just get afraid when I hear scurrying in case it's a mouse with three letters

[obstinatecondolement]

I kept hearing what sounded exactly like a mouse scurrying around in the vegetable drawer when I was looking in the fridge earlier so now I am afraid to look in the fridge even though it is so vanishingly unlikely there is a fucking living animal in there.

[dragon-kazansky]

A rose in shadows - Chapter two

Chapter 2- John's getting married in the morning

John enters the flat after giving Gladstone a nice walk. He lets the dog off his leash once the door is closed behind him and he stand to his feet, tucking the leash away.

"Mrs. Hudson?"

There is no response.

"Oh, Mrs. Hudson?"

Still nothing. He goes up stairs and knocks on the door with his cane.

"Holmes? You in there?"

It's silent. He opens the door and lets out an amused laugh as he sees the whole room is surrounded in plants. This is of course Sherlock's doing.

"Your hedge needs trimming." John jokes.

Watson pushes some leaves to the side with his cane and enters the room. There are plants in every direction. He cannot see anything at all.

"Where am I?" He hears an airy whisper through the trees.

"I don't care where you are, as long as you're ready." John comes to an opening and some turkey's gobble to his right. He looks at them.

"I'm waiting." Sherlock's whisper breaks out.

John turns to the window and sees Sherlock looking out the window, or at least, it's supposed to seem like he is. Even John can see it's a dummy in Holmes' clothes.

"I'm not going to play this game. Remember, I have to catch the last-" A dart hits him in the shoulder. John looks over his shoulder to see it, then raises his eyes over to the animals gathering on the opposite of the room. There is a goat with the turkey's now. "-train."

"Oh, that's you dead I'm afraid." Sherlock says.

"You win." John sits down with a newspaper, sounding as unenthusiastic as possible. A parrot flies across the room. John scans the trees for any sign of the mad man. "I lose. Game over."

Sherlock shoots another gun which pierces through the newspaper that John was holding up.

"Still don't see me."

John folds the paper down and looks ahead.

Sherlock laughs and moves away from the wall. He is wearing a full body suit that blends in with the pillar and bookshelf across from where John is sitting. He was very well hidden. He removes the mask when he stands in front of Watson.

John doesn't look impressed.

"I'm not going out with you dressed like that."

"Would you prefer I joined you in the fashion faux pas of wearing fine military dress with that heinous handmade scarf... clearly one of your fiance's early efforts?"

"Oh, how I've missed you, Holmes."

"Have you? Why?" Sherlock leans in close to him. "I've barely noticed your absence. Then again I'm knee-deep in research and I have Y/N for company." He turns his back to John as he looks around the room. "I'm extracting fluids from the adrenal glands of sheep and designing my own urban camouflage. All the while verging on a decisive breakthrough in the single most important case of my career, perhaps of all time." Sherlock leans in again.

The leaves by the door rustle.

"Mrs. Hudson, Y/N, how are you both?"

You follow the landlady into room.

"Oh. Oh, I'm so pleased to see you, Doctor." Mrs Hudson says. "Thank you for inviting me tomorrow."

"And thank you for looking after Gladstone." John stands up to greet you both.

"It's good to see you, John." You step over and smile at him. He returns the favour. You don't miss how Sherlock rolls his eyes beside you both.

"Dear, dear... sickly sweet nanny, might I have a word?" Sherlock takes a step toward Mrs. Hudson. He pulls the cloth which was on the tray Mrs. Hudson was carrying. It reveals mice trapped under a clear case. "Yummy. Fess the snake, woman."

"You feed it."

"Touchy, touchy." He takes the tray from her and backs away slowly.

"Doctor, you must get him to a sanatorium." She pleads with John. You chuckle quietly as you remove the dart from his shoulder. "He's been on a diet of coffee, tobacco, and coca leaves." Mrs. Hudson explains. "He never sleeps." You nod at Watson as he looks at you. "I hear multiple voices as if he's rehearsing a play."

"Leave him to me." John chuckles.

"Don't you have a goat that needs worming?" Sherlock asks, popping up behind Mrs. Hudson.

"Oh, how kind of you to remind me." Sarcasm drips from every word. "So much to look forward to. What would I do without you?" She turns and leaves. "Good luck with your patient, Doctor." She calls over her shoulder.

"Why are you here?" Sherlock asks.

You look Sherlock dead in the eye.

"He's getting married tomorrow."

John stares at Sherlock.

"Oh! Embrace me." Sherlock pulls him in to an awkward hug, he pulls out the dart which was still in John's back. "Watson's getting married."

"You've lost a few pounds, Holmes."

Sherlock steps back. "Yes, you've picked them up, noshing on Mary's muffins, no doubt." John chuckles. "Pour us a brandy. The stag party has begun!"

"I'll leave you two to it then, shall I?" You chuckle and gather your coat which has been draped round the back of a chair.

"It was good to see you, Y/N." John smiles and kisses your hand before letting you turn to the door.

"Yes, you too. Do try to keep out of trouble Sherlock, and John, don't drink too much." You smile at the boys. Sherlock barely spares a glance your way and John nods at you before looking at his best friend with a furrowed gaze. You leave them be.

 Sherlock disappears behind the curtains that had been drawn closed, closing off the other side of the room.

"It is our last adventure, Watson. I intend to make the most of it."

John opened the curtains and found himself face to face with something completely different from the rest of the room.

Diagrams, maps, photos, newspaper clippings and other notes handwritten by Sherlock himself, were all pinned up on the wall leaving no space at all. Red string was pinned up across each piece, connecting everything one way or another. This is Sherlock's investigation on Moriarty.

"I see you've made good use of my old office." John comments.

"Do you like my spider's web?"

"Is that what you call it?"

"That's what Y/N called it, I just stick to her ideas." Sherlock peeked out from behind the screen he had gone to get changed behind. "Follow that strand."

John follows it.

"Question: What do a scandal involving an Indian cotton tycoon, the overdose of a Chinese opium trader, bombings in Strasbourg and Vienna, and the death of a steel magnate in America all have in common?"

John follows the strands to see they all point to a photo of a man.

"Well, according to your diorama, Professor James Moriarty."

"Indeed."

"Mathematical genius. Celebrated author and lecturer."

"Boxing champion at Cambridge, where he made friends with out current Prime Minister." Sherlock states.

"Do you have any evidence to substantiate your claim?" John asks.

Sherlock chuckles as he steps out from behind the screen. He grabs a strand and follows it down to the wall near him where an article is pinned to the wall.

"This."

John steps over and looks at it. Beside the column was a photo of a man, above read 'DR. HOFFSMANSTAHL'S FATAL HEART ATTACK.'

"Now do you see?" Sherlock asked.

"Dr. Hoffmanstahl's death?"

"Yes. I've heard you speak of him, extolling his virtues." Sherlock says.

"Hoffmanstahl was at the forefront of medical innovations, a true pioneer."

"Just the other day, I averted an explosion that was intended for him."

"Says he died of a heart attack." John looks at the paper.

"Has all my instruction been for naught?" Sherlock looks at John disappointed. If it was you he was talking to, you would have understood right away what he was getting at. In fact you had been. "You still read the official statement and believe it." It's a game, dear man, a shadowy game." Sherlock poured a drink. "We're playing cat and mouse, the professor and I. Cloak and dagger."

"I thought it was spider and fly?" John looked at him and then down at the bottle Sherlock had put down. Formaldehyde.

"I'm not a fly, I'm a cat."

"Not a mouse, but a dagger. You're drinking embalming fluid."

"Yes.  Care for a drop?" Sherlock exhales slowly after drinking from his glass.

"You do seem..."

"Excited?"

"...Manic..."

"I am."

"...Verging on..."

"Ecstatic?"

"...Psychotic. I should've brought you a sedative."

"I'll give mt life to see his demise." Sherlock said. "He must be stopped before his evil machinations come to a crescendo."

"What about Y/N?" John asks.

"What about Y/N?" Sherlock bites back.

"I couldn't help but notice how.... lonely she looked when she left. I thought things were going well for you both?"

"Aren't they?"

"I don't know, Holmes." John furrowed his gaze at his friend and then sighed. "Ans how will he do all this?" It was clear Sherlock wasn't in the mood to talk about you, perhaps you would talk to him later.

"Don't be a dingy bird. Bad people do bad things because they can." Sherlock was more interested in talking about Moriarty right now. "No one, not the victims, the police, the governments, not anyone..."

"Except the great Sherlock Holmes..."

"Correct."

"...On this diet, will work it all out."

"Right."

"Or thereabouts."

"Thereabouts, not quite there."

"Here's to your good health." John raised a glass, filled with alcohol. Sherlock raised what was left of his choice of drink. "Dingy bird."

Gladstone whimpered and them dropped to the floor.

"What have you done to Gladstone now?" John goes over to his beloved dog.

"Ricinus communis. The fruit is highly toxic."

"He's barely breathing."

"What an excellent opportunity. This may be just the thing." Sherlock kneels down beside John and stabs Gladstone with a needle. The dog whines. "Sorry, do you mind terribly if I try my adrenal extract?"

"How many times are you going to kill my dog, Holmes?"

Gladstone barks as he gets up quickly off the floor and scurries off.

"Took off like a monkey from a box. I may need one of those in a few hours."

"Consider it a wedding gift." Sherlock handed over the small roll the extract had been kept in.

John made his way downstairs.

"Watson, might we use an alternative exit?" Sherlock asked. John turned on his heel and faced Sherlock who had dressed after him.

"Is there something different about you?"

"I'm under observation." Sherlock was wearing a long beard and had a pipe in his mouth, his coat was old and scruffy.

"As you should be."

"You drive."

Both men left through a different door.

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