John's POV
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The tension now is almost unbearable. We're crowded round the dark poolside, silently watching the light rippling on the walls. We're waiting. Just...waiting. I hate it. Sherlock is shifting his weight from one foot to the other, checking his watch every seven seconds. Millie is his opposite; she's standing completely still, looking distinctly sick and leaning against a changing room door.
We're not entirely sure what to expect.
I'm even starting to doubt myself- did I really see Irene blink out SOS? Was it just a coincidence?
There's no-one here. Why would there be? It's a swimming pool at night. It's closed, for god's sake. What are we doing, sneaking into here?
Maybe it's the memories. I remember the weight of the coat, laden with explosives. I remember the pinpoints of red light, dancing across my chest. I remember the fear, the macabre voices in my head telling me I was about to die.
I shake my head to clear my thoughts.
"Sherlock, Millie- maybe we should go. She's not here, and we haven't heard anything," I say, my voice reverberating off the walls.
Sherlock looks like he's wavering, and I think Millie starts to nod. I'm walking in the direction of the exit when suddenly-
A clicking noise. Our heads snap up. It takes me a moment to realise what it is.
It's the noise of two pairs of very expensive shoes walking on the ceramic tiles.
My heartbeat slows down for a fraction of a second.
It's show time.
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YOU ARE READING
Guns, Games, and Mutual Appreciation ~ A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction {Book I}
Fanfiction"My name is Sherlock Holmes. It is my business to know what other people do not know." ~Sherlock Holmes, The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle. Sherlock Holmes is a man of impenetrable coolness; logic rules over empathy, and reason underpins all actio...
