The Bás I Caillteanas Project

Drugged

We had arrived at the restaurant 30 minutes ago. Sherlock had already deduced seven people and in doing so reduced a waitress to tears.

John, Mary, Mrs Hudson, Sherlock and I were all sitting at a large round table next to the window. All five of us sat in tranquillity. It was peaceful, until Mary cleared her throat in an effort to get our attention.

"We, John and I, have an announcement to make." Mary said. She was fiddling with a napkin nervously.

All eyes flicked towards her - a mix of worry, confusion and discomfort spread through each.

John had his arm around Mary. When he noticed our expressions his mouth made an "O" shape. "No, we're fine! There's nothing wrong!" He reassured us.

Mrs Hudson let out a sigh of relief and dramatically put her hand on her heart. I smiled at her reaction but Sherlock just rolled his eyes. "It's so obvious, I'm surprised you didn't guess already Sophie." He whispered.

"I'm not a genius Sherlock, but I've got a good idea." I smiled.

"What do you deduce, then?" He smirked at me.

"Slightly bulging stomach: could be fat but it looks firm. Non alcoholic drink: good, she researched. Protective hand at her stomach most of the night: instinctive, motherly. Large appetite, and also John's constantly checking if she's okay." I looked up at him and smiled. "They'll be perfect parents."

He smiled back. "I'm impressed."

"I'm a doctor, I'm meant to know this stuff." I smirked smugly.

He nodded and smiled. We looked back at the other three to realise we hadn't been whispering.

John was smiling, Mary was smiling and Mrs Hudson was smiling.

"I'm guessing you heard that." I concluded.

They all nodded. "Well, yes. Thanks for spoiling our surprise, Sophie." Mary said lightheartedly and beamed a smile. "We're expecting."

John beamed with pride - he looked like he was going to burst.

Mrs Hudson started blabbering on to Mary about babies and how happy she was for them. I could see the excitement in her. I don't think she ever had kids of her own, and I decided against asking, incase it was a sensitive subject.

I never liked children. Too hyper and needy. At the age of 24 I didn't even want to think about having my own. Imagine having a mini-clone of yourself running around, making noise and mess. Not my division.

"So, Sophie, I heard you were moving in to Baker Street." Mary said, finally getting away from talking to Mrs Hudson.

"Yeah." I replied, not knowing what else to say - I could see where this was going.

Mary nodded then went back to eating her food. John was rambling to anyone who'd listen. He was so cute and passionate about the baby Watson.

I didn't eat what I'd ordered. I had lost all intention of trying it. My lack of sleep made my head hurt and I played about with the food to cure my boredum. I stabbed a piece of my fish with a fork and held it up in front of my face, level with my eyes. It's colour, shape and form intrigued me. It didn't look normal. The meat was tainted blue. From that moment on, I knew something was terribly wrong. I locked gaze with Sherlock. He gave a look of confusion at my recent tense stature. I wordlessly passed him the fork. After inspecting it quickly, he swifty grabbed Mary, John and Mrs Hudson's plates away from them. Mary protested - following the plate with her spoon, as it moved.

"Vatican cameos." Sherlock whisper shouted. I had absolutely no idea what that meant. Vatican is something to do with religion and cameos are when a person makes a brief appearance in a show or song or something. John's face looked worried and anxious. The two other women looked around, puzzled. So I assumed it was the panic word.

Mrs Hudson's head started drooping and landed on the table with a smack. Mary knew she was next and slowly lowered hers, clutching her stomach in an attempt to keep the unborn baby safe. "Mary! Mary! Mary, listen to me. You need to wake up." John shouted, checking her pulse and tapping her cheeks. He looked after Mrs Hudson too, of course, she's like a mother to him.

Luckily, Sherlock hadn't touched his food either.

John's body couldn't defend itself from the poison any longer. He fell on the table next to Mary, still tightly holding her hand until the last moment. His grip slackened as he drifted into unconsiousness. I checked their breathing: all fine and regulated. Their pulses were normal. It was as if they were sleeping.

"What do we do?!" I asked Sherlock, getting nothing back. He was looking around the restaurant. I followed his view and noticed the other customers, they were staring right as us, not even blinking. "That's creepy, I don't like that." They all got up in sinc and started walking out the door.

"It's him, it's got to be him.' Sherlock muttered.

"Who?"

"He's the only one who'd know I wouldn't eat. It's all a plan.." He muttered again.

"Sherlock don't ignore me! I'm not an idiot!" I snapped. "Who the hell did this?"

His gaze switched towards me. "Moriarty."

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