The Official Sherlock Holmes Fanclub

The game is on

*starts singing* if we were a movie you'd be the right guy and I'd be the best friend, that youd fall in love with in the end wed be laughing.... Actually you can just have some angst!                                               -----------------------------------

When John met Sherlock he never expected his life would turn into something like a movie. He was currently sitting in a cab, yelling at the cabbie to follow the cab that Sherlock had jumped into. He was in a car chase trying to save the life of his mad roommate/friend/person who had made him realize he was bi and he now pinned after stupidly. Johns’ heart was beating rapidly in his chest and he felt a sudden urge to cry. John hadn’t cried since his dad had died. But, Sherlock the most colorful and amazing person he ever met, brought up some many strong emotions in him and made him feel truly alive again… He would never be able to forgive himself if he didn’t save Sherlock. 

***

“The amazing Sherlock Holmes. I’ve heard so much about you.” 

Sherlock sat in the backseat of the taxi that happened to be driven by a serial killer. Sherlock risked his life to prove he was clever all the time, but this time was different. This time he had something to loose if he died and that was John, the best thing that ever happened to him. Even knowing John for less then a day, Sherlock felt he could trust him. He thought he could even love. He had known what he was doing at the party. HE had been flirting with John and not because he needed to manipulate him to get something but because he wanted to. Sherlock met the cabbies eyes in the mirror. 

“Good, then we can skip the part where we talk about me,” Sherlock said, “And unless you’re going to do something so mediocre as to tell me you ‘evil’ plan, then we have no reason to talk at all.” He looked at the cabbie with disgust. Mycroft would kill him if he knew about this. But it wasn’t like this was the first time he risked his life. 

”Oh, yes we do Mr. Holmes. Who was that short fella that was with you? Someone I need to worry about?” the cabbie asked. Sherlock sighed, if John was a threat it would be idiotic for him to tell that to the cabbie. “No you wont. He was just some drunken frat boy looking for a quick shag,” he drawled while desperately hoping that the cabbie was correct in his worry about John. 

***

They had followed the taxi for ten minutes. Johns’ heart hadn’t slowed its erratic beat the entire time and he thought again how it felt like one of those James bond movies that he used to watch with Harry when they were kids.

“I’m going to be like him when I grow up.” John had declared to Harry as he stared, wide eyed, at the screen and to anyone else who would listen. But he wasn’t Bond. He was the sidekick and Sherlock was James Bond. (With his black wild curls and pale skin and perfectly shaped lips. Get a grip John! He needed to work on not getting distracted.) He later realized that being James Bond wasn’t what he longed for it was danger and adrenaline that he needed in his life. Knowing that around every corner there was a potential threat. People thought he wanted to join the army because of his father, but he knew that was only partially true. And now he had it!

“Kid the other cabs stopped.” 

John looked up and saw that the other Taxi had indeed stopped. He threw some money at the cabbie and opened the door and sprinted to the other cab. But no signs of Sherlock were there. He ran back to the cab he had been in and demanded, “How could they possibly have gotten away so quickly?!”

“Don’t blame me, you were too lost in your thoughts to hear me kid.”

John had to stop himself from screaming. “Where’d they go? You must’ve seen!” The cabbie pointed at the building in front of them and John took off sprinting again. He stopped short when he realized there was two separate buildings. He followed his instincts and entered the one on his left.

***

So far Sherlock was entirely unimpressed. The cabbie had used a gun (a fake one at that) to make him enter the building, an elementary school, and was now just looking at him. The only thing that kept Sherlock from calling his bluff was his curiosity about how he had gotten to victims to willingly take poison. They stood in a classroom with walls colored in bright primary colors and tiny tables that served as desks. A shiver went through Sherlock’s body at the memory of his own childhood.

When the cabbie finally spoke he said, “Mr. Holmes I want to test your skills. What have you deduced about me?” The corner of Sherlock’s mouth turned up. Finally something was happening. 

“Your name is Jefferson Hope obvious, it’s written on your id card. You have a daughter that’s twenty-two and has left you alone. Your wife died in a car crash ten years ago with your two other kids. They were twins and three years old at the time. When they died you were devastated and turned to the bottle. You became an alcoholic and began to abuse her. Not physically but mentally. You blamed her for the death of your family and convinced her that you were right to do so. You have a picture in your cab of your family dated 17 May 2014 with RIP written in above it. The daughter that you abused hated you for years so, when she finally had the chance to leave you at the age of eighteen she took it. She hasn’t talked to you since, but you regret what you did to her. You had ripped her out if the picture, but you recently taped her back in when you realized you wouldn’t see her ever again. You never stopped drinking and your liver is paying for it. You’re dying and somehow killing these people is helping her. How was that? I’m usually correct, but I like to check.” Jefferson looked impressed but his eyes were filling with tears. Sherlock knew he had find his weak spot, his pressure point. 

”Yes-you were right” Jefferson said, with a trembling lip. Sherlock stood there keeping his expression very calm. Jefferson walked over to him and they hugged. Sherlock was startled a tried to pull back, but Jefferson help him tight. 

“Sorry, but I never could resist a touch of drama.” Jefferson whispered as he put the syringe in Sherlock’s shoulder. 

“WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!” Sherlock screamed. Panting for air. 

”Don’t worry Mr. Holmes you’ll be dead within the hour.” Sherlock’s slid closed and he dropped to the floor as he struggled to stay conciseness. His body could handle drugs, but what drug was this? He dropped to the ground. Sherlock heard a loud bang and then strong arms around him. 

”I’m here for you Sherlock. It’ll be alright.” And then Sherlock couldn’t hold on any longer and he slipped into oblivion.  

---------------------

We tried not to follow the episode too much hope you liked it!