His Last Vow (Part 4)

Holmes' sitting room… 

It is the present and I am with John and Mary.

"So, have you read it?" Mary asked.

John looks down at the pen drive, repeatedly turning it around in his fingers, the key ring attachment rattling noisily, then he clasps his fist around it and looks at her while gesturing to the floor in front of him, "W-would you come here a moment?"

"No. Tell me. Have you?" Mary asked, shaking her head.

"Just …" John said, in an exasperated voice, pausing and seemed to rein in his temper, before he spoke more calmly. "... come here."

Mary grimaces unhappily, then unwraps the blanket from around her stomach and legs and starts to stand up, holding one hand to her abdomen. She is now very visibly pregnant. John steps towards her to help her up.

"No, I'm fine." Mary said, wincing, she gets to her feet as John steps back again. 

"Do it, Mary. It's fine. I promise." I said, smiling, when Mary walks across the room and John turns to one side so that he is side-on to the fireplace and she stops in front of John and lowers her eyes. "Let John talk. He has something to say."

"Alright." Mary said, frowning.

When John speaks, his voice is little more than a whisper and his throat is tight.

"Thank you, Jared. Mary, I've thought long and hard about what I want to say to you." John said, drawing in a long breath through his nose as Mary raises her eyes to him. "These are prepared words, Mary." He lowers his head for a moment, grimacing slightly and pulling in another slightly shaky breath before glancing up at Mary. "I've chosen these words with care."

"Okay." Mary said, a little nervously.

John clears his throat, and he can be heard rolling the pen drive round in his fingers again. Finally he looks up to meet Mary's eyes.

"The problems of your past are your business. The problems of your future ... are my privilege." John said, still speaking quietly, and Mary's face starts to crumple a little and tears begin to form in her eyes. "It's all I have to say. It's all I need to know."

John looks down at the pen drive while Mary gazes at him tearfully. After a few moments, he glances up at her again, then turns to the fireplace and drops the pen drive onto the burning logs. Mary quietly starts to cry as she looks at the drive on top of the fire. John clears his throat again as he turns back to her.

"No, I didn't read it." John said, quietly.

Mary looks at John, the first tears starting to roll down her face.

"You don't even know my name. Only Jared knows my name." Mary said, tearfully.

"Is 'Mary Watson' good enough for you?" John asked.

"Yes!" Mary yelled, sobbing out the word, wiping her fingers under her nose. "Oh my God, yes."

"Then it's good enough for me, too." John said, giving Mary a small smile.

"Oh!"

"Hug you two." I said, watching John and Mary step together and hug each other tightly. "It's Christmas."

Mary cries. 

John speaks softly in Mary's ear, his throat still tight, "All this does not mean that I'm not still basically pissed off with you."

"I know, I know." Mary said, tearfully.

"I am very pissed off, and it will come out now and then." John said.

"I know, I know, I know." Mary said, sniffing.

John and Mary pull back far enough to be able to look into each other's eyes.

 "You can mow the sodding lawn from now on." John said, softly.

"I do mow the lawn." Mary said.

"No, I do it loads."

"You really don't."

"I choose the baby's name."

"Not a chance."

"Okay."

"Watsons, I'll check on the Holmes boys." I said, when John and Mary tightly hugged again. "Need to see if they're okay."

I walked away from John and Mary, and exited the cottage.

Outside the cottage…

Mycroft, Sherlock, and I are idly wandering along the path in the front garden towards the gate. The Holmes brothers are holding a lit cigarette while I am drinking my Rosé.

"Sherlock, Jared, I'm glad you've given up on the Magnussen business." Mycroft said, looking between Sherlock and I.

"Are you?" Sherlock asked.

"I'm still curious, though." Mycroft said, stopping. "He's hardly your usual kind of puzzle, brother, dear. Why do you ... hate him?"

"Because he attacks people who are different and preys on their secrets. Why don't you?" Sherlock asked, turning back to face Mycroft.

"He never causes too much damage to anyone important. He's far too intelligent for that. He's a business-man, that's all, and occasionally useful to us. A necessary evil – not a dragon for you and Jared to slay." Mycroft said, taking a drag on his cigarette while Sherlock smiles and walks back to his side.

"A dragon slayer. Is that what you think of me?" Sherlock asked, turning as he pulled on his own cigarette. 

Sherlock, Mycroft, and I stand side by side with our backs to the cottage.

"No." Mycroft said, smiling, and he looked at his brother and I. "It's what you and Jared think of yourselves."

"You're not wrong. Sherlock and I are the heroes." I said, while the cottage door opens behind us and Mrs Holmes comes out onto the step.

"Boys, are you two smoking?" Mrs Holmes asked, crossly.

Sherlock and Mycroft rapidly spin round to face their mother, frantically holding their cigarettes behind their backs as they look guiltily at her.

"No!" Mycroft yelled, as Sherlock said this almost simultaneously as his brother. "It was Mycroft."

Mrs Holmes gives her sons a suspicious look, then goes back inside and shuts the door. Sherlock – looking every inch the naughty schoolboy who thinks he has got away with being bad and is feeling very smug about it – blows out a long plume of smoke in the direction of the door. 

Mycroft wanders a few paces towards the door, then slowly turns back again as he speaks, "I have, by the way, a job offer I should like you two to decline."

"I decline your kind offer." Sherlock said.

"Same here." I said, drinking my rosé.

"I shall pass on both of your regrets." Mycroft said, frowning.

"What was it?" Sherlock asked.

"MI6 – they want to place you back into Eastern Europe with Jared, Sherlock. An undercover assignment that would prove fatal to the two of you in, I think, about six months." Mycroft said.

Sherlock, who had started to raise his cigarette to his lips, lowers it again and looks a little surprised, "Then why don't you want us to take it?"

"It's tempting ... but on balance, you two have more utility closer to home." Mycroft said, turning to look at Sherlock and I.

"Utility! How do I have utility?" Sherlock asked, taking a drag on his cigarette. 

"You do. And so do I." I said, as Mycroft shrugs slightly.

"'Here be dragons'." Mycroft said, taking a pull on his own cigarette, then holds it up to look at, frowning, before coughing. "This isn't agreeing with me. I'm going in."

Mycroft drops the cigarette onto the path and treads it out, then turns and walks towards the door.

"You need low tar. You still smoke like a beginner." Sherlock said.

Mycroft slows down and stops before he reaches the door. He pauses for a moment before speaking.

"Also, your loss would break my heart." Mycroft said, without turning round.

Sherlock had just started to take a drag on his cigarette and now he chokes and coughs before turning to look at his brother, who still hasn't turned around.

"What the hell am I supposed to say to that?!" Sherlock exclaimed.

"'Merry Christmas'?" Mycroft asked, turning around and holding out his arms a little.

"You hate Christmas."

"More so than Donna Noble." I said, laughing a lot. "That's why she had her second wedding in the spring."

"Yes." Mycroft said, pretending to look puzzled while he smiled a little. "Donna Noble. The woman you proclaim is the 'Most important woman in the whole of creation', Jared. Perhaps there was something in the punch."

"Clearly. Go and have some more." Sherlock said.

Mycroft turns and goes up the steps, opening the door. Sherlock turns away to look at me.

In the sitting room…

John and Mary are still locked in a tight hug, swaying a little from side to side.

"So you realise that, er, Jared convinced Sherlock to get us out here to see his mum and dad for a reason?" Mary asked.

"Sherlock's lovely mum and dad. A fine example of married life. I get that." John said, smiling.

Over his shoulder, Mary holds the fingers of one hand to her forehead, frowning and looking a little unwell.

"That is the thing with Sherlock – it's always the unexpected. While with Jared, it's always the expected.." John said, unaware of this and Mary starts to slump in his grasp. "Oi." He frowns round to the side of her head. "Oi." Mary slumps more, moaning softly as her arms drop from around John. He takes her weight and moves her back so he can see her face. Her eyes are closed. "Mary? Jesus Christ. Mary?" John hauls Mary back towards a nearby armchair. "Sit down." He lowers her into the armchair. She is now unconscious. He takes hold of her face. "Mary, can you hear me?"

The door opens and Sherlock and I briskly walk in a couple of paces.

"John, don't drink Mary's tea." I said, turning and leaving again with Sherlock, as the consulting detective grabbed his scarf from the peg as we went. "It has sedatives."

John stares towards the door, then looks towards his wife again.

"Oh, or the punch. It also has what Jared said." Sherlock said, loudly.

In another sitting room next door, a glass is lying overturned on a table and Mr Holmes is lying on his back on the sofa with his eyes closed. Sherlock holds his hand over his father's nose to check that he's breathing normally, then continues onwards. John follows Sherlock and I into the room while Sherlock heads into the kitchen, where Mrs Holmes is asleep in the armchair in which Sherlock had previously sat, and Mycroft is slumped on a dining chair with his head on the kitchen table and his eyes closed. The kitchen clock above the door shows that about seven minutes have passed since the earlier scene in the kitchen, so clearly Sherlock's countdown was absolutely accurate.

"Sherlock? Jared?" John asked, as Sherlock holds the back of his hand to his mother's nose to check her breathing, then the two of us walked past Bill, who is standing nearby, and we went over to the kitchen table, causing the army doctor to come into the room we are in. "Did you just drug my pregnant wife?"

"Don't worry. Wiggins is an excellent chemist." Sherlock said, checking Mycroft's breathing.

"Not as good as Elfnein." I said, happily. "But Bill can do."

"I calculated your wife's dose meself. Won't affect the little one. I'll keep an eye on 'er." Bill said.

"He'll monitor their recovery. It's more or less his day job." Sherlock said, putting on his scarf.

"What the hell have you both done?" John asked, staring at Sherlock and I.

Sherlock looks down reflectively and takes a moment to reply, "... A deal with the devil."

FLASHBACK…

A blurry figure walks in through a door, closes it and then walks forward. At the far end of the room, Sherlock is sitting at a small table which has a red tablecloth. He is wearing a hospital gown and has his morphine drip on a stand beside him. On the table in front of him is a plate with a part-finished meal on it. Some penne pasta and what looks like a cherry tomato remain. There is also a glass of water on the table. Sherlock chews and swallows his latest mouthful of food, not looking up as the other person walks closer. I was sitting down on a chair and looked up to see that it was Magnussen.

"Mr Holmes? Shouldn't you be in hospital?" Magnussen asked.

"I am in hospital. This is the canteen." Sherlock said, still not looking up.

"And I decided to pay Sherlock a visit." I said, looking up knowing that it is not the hospital canteen. 

Sherlock has apparently busted out of hospital again, not bothering or unable to get his clothes for the escape, and the two men are in a small restaurant or taverna. There are no other customers and the only member of staff is at the far end by the door. Magnussen looks round the not-canteen.

"Is it?" Magnussen asked.

"In my opinion, yes." Sherlock said, gesturing with his fork to the other chair on the other side of the table. "Have a seat. Jared is already sitting down."

"Thank you." Magnussen said.

Sherlock lays down his fork on the plate and watches as Magnussen sits down opposite us.

"We've been thinking about you." Sherlock said.

"I've been thinking about the two of you." Magnussen said.

"Really?" Sherlock asked, looking a little weak, he reached across to the morphine control and pushed the button three times, and he turned back to face Magnussen. "We want to see Appledore, where you keep all the secrets, all the files, everything you've got on everyone. We want you to invite us."

Sherlock and Magnussen lock eyes.

"What makes you think I'd be so careless?" Magnussen asked.

"Oh, I think you're a lot more 'careless' than you let on." Sherlock said, softly, intensely.

"Am I?" Magnussen asked, softly, leaning forward.

"You are." I said, and Sherlock has his elbows on the table with his hands clasped in front of him. 

Sherlock too leans forward, and smiles as he looks into Magnusson's eyes, "It's the dead-eye stare that gives it away."

Magnussen looks back at Sherlock unblinking.

"Except it's not dead-eyed, is it?" Sherlock asked, unclasping his hands and slowly lifting them towards Magnussen.

Sherlock continues to reach towards Magnussen's face, moving slowly so that the man knows what he's doing. Sherlock winces and sucks in a sharp pained breath as he extends his arms and slowly takes hold of Magnussen's glasses and takes them off. Magnussen's eyes flicker towards the glasses when they leave his face but then he returns his gaze to Sherlock.

"You're reading." Sherlock said, smiling slightly and he drew the glasses towards himself and looked down at them. "Portable Appledore." He briefly snorts, then looks across to Magnussen. "How does it work?" Magnussen looks down at the glasses. "Built-in flash drive?" He lifts the glasses towards his own face. "4G wireless?"

Sherlock puts the glasses on and raises his head as he looks through the lenses. After a moment he frowns, turning his head a little and then lowering it before he slowly takes off the glasses again, blinking as if confused. He looks down at them, turning them in his hands.

"They're just ordinary spectacles." Sherlock said.

"Yes – they are." Magnussen said.

Sherlock grimaces slightly, still looking down at the glasses. Magnussen looks at him. His vision is slightly blurred without his glasses on, but text appears in front of his eyes in red:

PRESSURE POINT: > MORPHINE (ADD TO FILE)

He lowers his head and smiles, then reaches across with one hand and flicks through the pasta on the plate with his fingers, unearthing a black olive. Sherlock continues to stare down at the glasses.

"You underestimate me, Mr Holmes, Mr Shay." Magnussen said.

"You're no Missy." I said, while Sherlock sinks back in his seat, still looking at the glasses as if in disbelief. "She's able to make a whole virtual reality world. Haven't met her yet. Terrified of doing so."

I am clutching my hand on my sling bag, thinking of Missy and what she'll do in the near future. Magnussen looks at me. His vision is slightly blurred without his glasses on, but text appears in front of his eyes in red:

PRESSURE POINT: THE MASTER (ADD TO FILE)

Magnussen picks up the olive and puts it in his mouth, then licks his thumb and forefinger before reaching across to the glass of water and dabbling the licked digits in it. With his other hand he reaches across the table and takes his glasses from Sherlock, then shakes the water off his wet fingers onto the plate and puts his glasses back on. Sherlock slowly lowers his own hands to the table, looking down as if still in shock.

"Impress us, then. Show us Appledore." Sherlock said, quietly.

"Everything's available for a price." Magnussen said, chewing the olive while Sherlock lifts his eyes to his. "Are you both making me offers?"

"Christmas presents." Sherlock said.

"And what are you giving me for Christmas, Mr Holmes and Mr Shay?" Magnussen asked, looking between Sherlock and I.

"I'm giving you my brother." Sherlock said, smiling.

"And I'm giving you myself." I said, clutching my hand on my sling bag. "Me and my foreknowledge. It could prove useful to you."

Holmes' kitchen…

We are back in the present and Sherlock is still looking down reflectively. John turns away from Sherlock and I.

"Oh, Jesus." John said, softly, walking away, while Sherlock looked down at his unconscious brother. 

Next door sitting room…

John goes into the and looks down at Sherlock's father on the sofa, then stops and grimaces with his fists clenched.

"Sherlock …" John said, sadly. "Jared…"

Kitchen…

Sherlock is putting on his gloves while I am clutching my sling bag.

"... please tell me both of you haven't just gone out of your mind." John said, from the sitting room.

Sherlock bends down and takes the silver-grey laptop from the table, pulling it from under where Mycroft has one hand resting on it.

"We'd rather keep you guessing." Sherlock said.

John turns towards the second sitting room where Mary is, but just then the sound of an approaching helicopter can be heard. In the kitchen, Sherlock and I looked upwards.

"And look." I said, smiling. "There's our lift."

John walks across the room and looks through a window.

Very shortly afterwards, as the helicopter flies low past the front of the cottage, John walks down the path with Sherlock and I behind him holding the laptop under his left arm and a coat in his right hand. John goes through the gate as the helicopter lands in the field in front of the cottage.

"Are you coming with us?" I asked, walking to John's side with Sherlock.

"Where?" John asked.

"Do you want Mary to be safe?" 

"Yeah, of course I do."

Sherlock, John, and I turn and look at the helicopter.

"Good, because this is going to be incredibly dangerous." Sherlock said, in a quick fire rate, speaking on one single breath for the next two sentences. "One false move and we'll have betrayed the security of the United Kingdom and be in prison for high treason. Magnussen is quite simply the most dangerous man we've ever encountered, and the odds are comprehensively stacked against us."

"But it's Christmas." John said, indignantly.

"It really is." I said, sadly.

Sherlock smiles.

"I feel the same." Sherlock said, turning and seeing John's expression and my expression. His smile fades. "Oh, you both mean it's actually Christmas. John, did you bring your gun as I suggested? Jared, did you bring Ebb and Flow as I suggested?"

"Why would I bring my gun to your parents' house for Christmas dinner?!" John exclaimed.

"And why would I bring Ebb and Flow to your parents' house on Christmas?!" I exclaimed, squeezing the strap on my sling bag.

"John, is it in your coat? And Jared, is it around your neck?" Sherlock asked, holding out John's coat in his right hand and holding my pendant in his left hand.

"Yes." John said, tetchily, taking his coat from Sherlock.

"Yeah." I said, taking my pendant from Sherlock and wrapping it around my neck.

"Off we go, then." Sherlock said.

We start to walk towards the helicopter.

"Where are we going?" John asked.

"Appledore." Sherlock said.

APPLEDORE…

In a large sitting room where one entire long wall is made of glass and looks out to the grounds, Magnussen lowers his whiskey glass at the sound of an approaching helicopter. The helicopter – which has the 'CAM' logo on its side – flies down towards the house while Sherlock, John, and I look down from inside the vehicle. We land on the grass not far from the house while Magnussen continues to sit on a long curved white leather sofa, not looking round to watch our arrival. Security men walk towards the helicopter while another stands on the patio outside the house. Sherlock, John, and I get out and are escorted towards the house and the helicopter takes off and flies away. Shortly afterwards a security man leads us through an inside area which is lined with large green exotic plants, while another man follows behind. Magnussen is sitting on the sofa one level above them. He takes a drink from his glass as his men escort Sherlock, John, and I out of an elevator and into the room. Sherlock stops a couple of paces in front of the sofa while John stands a little way behind and to one side of him while I also stand a little way behind and to the other side of the consulting detective. Magnussen nods to his men and they turn and leave.

"I would offer you a drink but it's very rare and expensive." Magnussen said, lifting his glass and he drank out of it.

Sherlock turns and sits down on the sofa a couple of feet to Magnussen's right. He sighs with a contented sound and slaps his hands down on the white leather either side of him, putting the laptop down between himself and the other man, then crosses his legs and clasps his hands in his lap. He looks across to the other side of the room.

"Oh. It was you." Sherlock said, calmly.

Projected onto a glass wall opposite us, footage is playing of Sherlock's rescue of John from the bonfire. The footage repeats on a continuous loop.

"Yes, of course." Magnussen said, while John glances over his shoulder and turns back, then does a double-take. "Very hard to find a pressure point on you, Mr Holmes and Mr Shay."

"Mm." Sherlock said, as John turns and walks towards the wall.

"The drugs thing I never believed for a moment from you, Mr Holmes." Magnussen said, and he turned to look at me. "And the Master I never believed for a moment from you, Mr Shay." John continues walking closer to the wall, staring at the footage with his mouth open. "Anyway, neither of you wouldn't care if it was exposed, would you?"

Sherlock tilts his head, quirks his mouth and shrugs.

"So Missy will know that I am still terrified of her." I said, squeezing the strap of my sling bag. "Feel free to do so. It'll bite me back in my ass later on anyway."

"But look how you care about John Watson." Magnussen said, looking at the screen, and in slow motion on the footage, Sherlock drags John out from under the bonfire again. "And look at how much you care about Clara Oswald." He changed the footage to show in slow motion on the footage, I am helping to save Clara when she was trapped in the WiFi during the Bells of Saint John. "Your damsels in distress."

John turns around.

"You …" John said, walking closer to Magnussen, his voice tight and furious. "... put me in a fire ... for leverage?"

"Oh, I'd never let you burn, Doctor Watson." Magnussen said, sitting up and putting his glass onto the clear glass table in front of him, then looked up at John again. "I had people standing by." Sherlock looks up thoughtfully at Magnussen as he stands. "I'm not a murderer ... unlike your wife."

John stares up at him grimly. He holds his gaze for a while, then glances across to Sherlock and I. 

Magnussen walks over towards the wall, "Let me explain how leverage works, Doctor Watson."

Reaching the wall, Magnussen puts one finger on it at the side of the projected footage. There's a beep and as Magnussen slides his finger across the glass, the footage slides with it and disappears off to the side.

"For those who understand these things, Mycroft Holmes and Jared Shay are the most powerful men in the country." Magnussen said, turning back to Sherlock, John, and I. "Well...apart from me." John tilts his head at him questioningly as the side of Sherlock's mouth lifts in a small smile and I squeezed the strap of my sling bag. "Mycroft's pressure point is his junkie detective brother, Sherlock." He walks back across the room to the sofa. "And Sherlock's pressure point is his best friend, John Watson. John Watson's pressure point is his wife." Magnussen looks round to me. "Jared's pressure point is his family from Remnant, Team RWBY. Team RWBY's pressure point are their classmates from Beacon, Team JNPR. And Team JNPR's pressure point is, well, their friend, Penny Polendina. I own John Watson's wife and Penny Polendina…" He looks round to Sherlock. "... I own Mycroft and Jared." Magnussen sits down. "They're what I'm getting for Christmas."

Even though the laptop is almost within his reach, he holds out his hand towards Sherlock. Without looking round, Sherlock shoves it across the sofa towards him.

"It's an exchange, not gifts." Sherlock said, standing up, while Magnussen raised his eyebrows at him. 

"It is. The extent of my foreknowledge should be on Mycroft's laptop." I said, as Sherlock walked a few paces forward, then turned round again. 

Magnussen picks up the laptop.

 "Forgive me, but …" Magnussen said, holds the laptop to his chest and runs his fingers over the back. "... I already seem to have it."

"It's password protected." Sherlock said, and Magnussen continues to run his fingers over the machine. "In return for the password, you will give us any material in your possession pertaining to the woman I know as Mary Watson. Jared can't tell me because of spoilers."

"Oh, she's bad, that one. So many dead people. You should see what I've seen." Magnussen said, looking at John.

"I don't need to see it." John said.

"You might enjoy it, though." Magnussen said, while John swallows but holds his gaze. "I enjoy it."

John nods as if not surprised.

"Then why don't you show us?" Sherlock asked, nonchalantly.

"Show you Appledore?" Magnussen asked, putting the laptop onto the sofa beside him, then looks back at Sherlock. "The secret vaults? Is that what you want?"

"Yeah. I know what it is." I said, intensely. "We want everything you've got on Mary."

Magnussen lets out a short breathy laugh, shaking his head a little, then he lowers his eyes, scratches the back of his head and chuckles for a few seconds. John's mouth twists and he shoots a brief glance towards Sherlock and I. Eventually Magnussen stops sniggering and looks down to the laptop, patting it and grimacing a little.

"You know, I honestly expected something good." Magnussen said.

"Oh, I think you'll find the contents of that laptop …" Sherlock said.

"... include a GPS locator. By now, your brother will have noticed the theft, and security services will be converging on this house. Having arrived …" Magnussen said, looking down at the laptop. "... they'll find top secret information in my hands …" He reaches forward and picks up his glass from the table. "... and have every justification to search my vaults. They will discover further information of this kind and I'll be imprisoned. The two of you will be exonerated, and restored to your smelly little apartment to solve crimes with Mr and Mrs Psychopath."

Magnussen looks at John, who holds his gaze, though his cheeks move as if he is gritting his teeth a little. Only once Magnussen starts talking again does John cast a quick glance at Sherlock and I.

"Mycroft has been looking for this opportunity for a long time. He'll be a very, very proud big brother." Magnussen said, lifting his glass closer to his mouth, drinking it, and emptying the glass.

"The fact that you know it's going to happen isn't going to stop it." Sherlock said.

Magnussen puts his glass down on the table.

"Then why am I smiling?" Magnussen asked, while he looked up at Sherlock and smiled a little while the consulting detective looked at him thoughtfully as I squeezed the strap of my sling bag. "Ask me."

"Why are you smiling?" John asked, taking one step towards Magnussen.

"Because Sherlock Holmes and Jared have made one enormous mistake which will destroy the lives of everyone they love …" Magnussen said, looking down a little, and his eyes were back on Sherlock and I again. "... and everything they hold dear." He stands up slowly. "Let me show you the Appledore vaults."

Magnussen leads Sherlock, John, and I across the room and through the open glass doors of the study I have seen before. He walks across to the wooden doors at the side of the room and then turns back to us, putting a hand on the doors.

"The entrance to my vaults. This is where I keep you all." Magnussen said, turning and takes hold of the door handles, then pulls the doors open. 

We look inside. Magnussen steps slowly through the doors, looking all around at what we can't yet see, while Sherlock, John,and I look uncertainty at what we can see. 

"Nothing has changed from what I remember. I thought with the Master being a thing. It would be bigger on the inside." I said, sadly.

"It isn't the case." Magnussen said, slowly beginning to turn around after a moment.

Inside the doors is nothing more than a small windowless room, painted white and brightly lit. It is no more than a few feet deep and the ceiling is about eight feet high. There are no shelves, no library stacks, no filing cabinets, no grotesque dolls, stuffed animals or sculptures. The only thing in the room is a metal and leather low-backed executive chair. As Magnussen slowly continues to turn around, Sherlock's eyes quickly skim around the whiteness, then his eyes go back to Magnussen.

"Okay – so where are the vaults, then?" John asked.

"Vaults? What vaults?" Magnussen asked, looking at John. "There are no vaults beneath this building." He sits down on the chair, then gestures around the room. "They're all in here."

John frowns and blinks. Sherlock's eyes are wide as if he is beginning to realise the truth, and I walked over to the consulting detective to grab his hand. Magnussen leans forward and slowly raises the fingers of his right hand to touch his temple.

"The Appledore vaults are my Mind Palace. You know about Mind Palaces, don't you, Sherlock and Jared?" Magnussen asked, and Sherlock swallows and then opens his mouth slightly. "How to store information so you never forget it – by picturing it. I just sit here, I close my eyes …" He does so, slowly lowering his head. "... and down I go to my vaults."

(Open POV)

Magnussen's Mind Palace / White room…

In his head, Magnussen opens his eyes and then walks down the wooden spiral staircase.

"I can go anywhere inside my vaults …" Magnussen said, sitting with his eyes closed in the white room.

In his head, he walks through the library stacks, his fingers flickering towards the shelves.

 "... my memories." Magnussen said.

In his head, he reaches the dark, creepy end of the Mind Palace. In the white room, he turns his head from side to side a little with his eyes still closed. In his Mind Palace he walks past the creepy displayed objects. In the white room he lifts his right hand and reaches forward.

"I'll look at the files on Mrs Watson." Magnussen said.

In his Mind Palace, Magnussen reaches towards a filing cabinet with his right hand. He can hear himself pull one of the drawers open. 

Outside the white room…

Sherlock closes his eyes and shakes his head a little, his lips pulled back from his teeth. Jared squeezed the consulting detective's hand, worried for him. John stares at Magnussen as he raises both hands and flickers his fingers in front of him as if he is working his way through the files inside the imaginary drawer. 

Magnussen can hear the files moving under his fingers. John clears his throat and looks down with a humourless smile as he seems to start to understand how Magnussen's mind works. Still flicking through the files in the drawer, Magnussen hums idly to himself while, in his Mind Palace, he works his way along the files.

Magnussen's Mind Palace / White room…

"Mmm, ah." Magnussen said, and in the white room he lifts his right hand as if lifting a folder out of the drawer. "This is one of my favourites." He sits back in the chair while, in his head, he looks at the file with a picture of Mary paper-clipped to the inside. "Oh, it's so exciting."

Lowering his head in the white room with his eyes still closed, Magnussen moves his hands as if he is turning the pages inside the file. Sherlock lowers his head with a shocked look on his face while Magnussen chuckles quietly. In his Mind Palace, Magnussen is looking at a sheet of paper to which is stuck a photograph of Mary looking grimly into the camera, and another photograph which is too blurry to see clearly.

"All those wet jobs for the CIA. Ooh!" Magnussen said, while in the white room, he points to an imaginary page in the file. "She's gone a bit ... freelance now. Bad girl."

Magnussen turns the imaginary page and sniggers. Inside his Mind Palace, Magnussen sniggers again, letting out an amused, 'Ohh!' In the white room he holds up a finger, then chuckles even more, then turns another imaginary page, still smiling.

"Ah, she is so wicked." Magnussen said, as he turned back to the front page of the file in his Mind Palace and in the white room he lifted his right hand as if putting the closed file back into the cabinet. "I can really see why you like her."

With both hands, Magnussen pushes the imaginary drawer closed again. In his Mind Palace he does likewise with the 'real' drawer.

(Jared's POV)

White room…

Magnussen lifts both hands and turns them over, then opens his eyes and looks at Sherlock and I.

"You see?" Magnussen asked. "Nothing has changed from how you remember it, Jared. You were so worried about this for nothing."

John clears his throat, "So there are no documents. You don't actually have anything here."

"Oh, sometimes I send out for something …" Magnussen said, lifting his left hand and looking down at his watch. "... if I really need it …" Sherlock looks away a little, closing his eyes briefly. "... but mostly I just remember it all."

"I don't understand." John said, shaking his head.

 "You should have that on a T-shirt."

"You just remember it all?"

"It's all about knowledge. Everything is. Knowing is owning." Magnussen said, looking at Sherlock and I.

"But being cursed with knowledge sucks." I said, sadly. "Why would you like it?"

"Because I do."

"But if you just know it, then you don't have proof." John said, frowning.

"Proof? What would I need proof for? I'm in news, you moron. I don't have to prove it – I just have to print it." Magnussen said, while Sherlock's gaze is lowered and his expression suggests that he is fully aware of how badly he has miscalculated, and the Napoleon of Blackmail stands up and buttons his jacket. "Speaking of news, you'll both be heavily featured tomorrow – trying to sell state secrets to me." He tuts disapprovingly, then looks at his watch again. "Let's go outside. They'll be here shortly." Magnussen walks out of the room and heads towards the glass doors. "Can't wait to see you arrested."

John watches Magnussen go, then steps closer to Sherlock and I.

"Sherlock, Jared, do we have a plan?" John asked, quietly.

Sherlock is fixed in place, still looking down towards the floor of the white room, his gaze unfocused and I looked down at the floor of the white room, my grip still holding onto Sherlock's hand tightly.

"Sherlock. Jared." John said, sternly.

When Sherlock and I still don't move, John turns and walks away. Sherlock shuts his eyes, screwing them closed with a look of despair and I squeezed his hand tighter.

Appledore…

Magnussen walks across the sitting room to a glass door which leads out onto a patio. He goes outside and looks around. The sky is darkening, so apparently it is early evening. John follows him out onto the patio.

"They're taking their time, aren't they?" Magnussen asked.

John stops beside Magnussen, not looking at him, "I still don't understand."

"And there's the back of the T-shirt." Magnussen said, looking up into the sky.

Sherlock and I have finally left the study and is walking slowly towards the patio door.

"You just know things. How does that work?" John asked, turning his head to look at Magnussen.

Magnussen turns to face him as Sherlock and I walk out onto the patio and stop just outside the door.

"I just love your little soldier face. I'd like to punch it." Magnussen said, looking at John, and the army doctor stared back at him, his eyes wide. "Bring it over here a minute." John glances over to Sherlock and I. "Come on."

Very reluctantly and not meeting Magnussen's eyes, Sherlock and I gave John a short nod, our faces full of pain at having to do this.

"For Mary. Bring me your face." Magnussen said, looking at John.

John looks back to Magnussen, who nods slightly. Clearing his throat, John slowly takes two steps closer to him. Magnussen turns a little to face him, then leans down to him.

"Lean forward a bit and stick your face out." Magnussen said, and John clears his throat again, adjusting his footing, with the blackmailer smirking at the army doctor. "Please?"

Magnussen leans closer, chuckling. John locks his gaze on Magnussen while he does as instructed.

"Now, can I flick it?" Magnussen asked, while John snorts in disbelief, lowering his head and shaking it before raising it again. "Can I flick your face?"

Pursing his lips and looking at him again, John leans forward. Magnussen lifts his right hand with the back towards John, bends his middle finger under his thumb, holds his hand close to John's left cheek and then releases the middle finger to flick sharply against his cheek. John blinks instinctively and tilts his head at the man, still holding his gaze. Magnussen flicks his cheek again, then chuckles.

"I just love doing this." Magnussen said, looking across to Sherlock and I, whose eyes are lowered, the pain still in our faces. "I could do it all day." He chuckles again, then turns back to John. "It works like this, John. I know who Mary hurt and killed."

"I'm sorry." I said, lifting my gaze and now looking at Magnussen, my expression grim. "I'm so sorry, John."

Magnussen flicks John's cheek again. Sherlock has now lifted his gaze and is looking at Magnussen, his expression grim.

"I know where to find people who hate her." Magnussen said, looking at John, flicking him again, then again. 

The soldier stares back at Magnussen, tolerating it only because he has no choice.

"I know where they live; I know their phone numbers." Magnussen said, flicking John twice more. "All in my Mind Palace – all of it."

Sherlock's gaze and my gaze towards Magnussen becomes more intense.

"I could phone them right now and tear your whole life down – and I will …" Magnussen said, looking at John.

Sherlock's lips are slightly lifted from his teeth.

"... unless you let me flick your face." Magnussen said, looking at John, and flicking him three times. 

Sherlock continues to glare at Magnussen with his teeth bared and I let go of Sherlock's hand to squeeze the strap of my sling bag.

"This is what I do to people. This is what I do to whole countries …" Magnussen said, looking at John, and flicks him again, then straightens up. "... just because I know." He bends back down to John. "Can I do your eye now?" John turns his head a little, looking away. "See if you can keep it open, hmm?"

Almost before John turns back to Magnussen, the blackmailer flicks the army doctor's left eyebrow. John's eyes instinctively flinch closed. Magnussen sniggers and flicks his eyebrow again.

"Come on. For Mary. Keep it open." Magnussen said, bending his finger under his thumb again.

"Sherlock? Jared?" John asked.

"Let him. I'm sorry." Sherlock said, quietly, his voice apologetic.

"Same here. I'm so sorry, John. That I am unable to change things." I said, letting out a sigh.

Magnussen looks round to Sherlock and I for a moment.

"Just ... let him." Sherlock said, as John grimaces slightly.

"Come on. Eye open." Magnussen said, turning back to John.

With a bemused look on his face, Magnussen flicks John's eyebrow again, and again John's eyes flinch closed for a moment before he glares back at the man as he sniggers and flicks him again. He laughs as John breathes harshly.

"It's difficult, isn't it?" Magnussen asked, cheerfully before straightening up. "Janine managed it once." He looks towards Sherlock andI. "She makes the funniest noises."

The sound of an approaching helicopter can be heard. It soars over the roof and at the same time, armed police marksmen run towards the patio. The helicopter drops down to hover some yards away, its spotlight aimed towards the men on the patio. As they are buffeted by the wind from the rotors, Mycroft's voice blares out over a speaker on the helicopter.

"Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, and Jared Shay." Mycroft said, his voice over the speaker, and he is sitting in the helicopter wearing a headset and microphone. "Stand away from that man."

Sherlock and I looked away. Magnussen looks over towards us.

"Here we go, Mr Holmes, Mr Shay!" Magnussen said, happily.

"To clarify: Appledore's vaults only exist in your mind, nowhere else, just there." Sherlock said, loudly over the noise of the hovering helicopter, stepping forward and walking with me to John's side.

"Yup. I could have never stopped Charles Agustus Magnussen." I said, taking out a coin out of my pocket to twirl it in my hand. "Not in the way I would have wanted."

"Jared's right, he couldn't stop me with his foreknowledge." Magnussen said, looking towards the helicopter. "They're not real. They never have been."

Sherlock and I nod, looking down.

"Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, and Jared Shay. Step away." Mycroft said, his voice over the speaker.

Magnussen walks forward a couple of steps, waving his hands calmly at the helicopter.

"It's fine! They're harmless!" Magnussen said, loudly.

The armed police continue moving into position, aiming their rifles towards the patio.

"Target is not armed. I repeat, target is not armed." A police officer said, over the radio.

"Sherlock, Jared, what do we do?" John asked, looking round to Sherlock and I, before turning to look at the helicopter again.

 "Nothing!" Magnussen said, over his shoulder, as he looked round at Sherlock, John, and I. "There's nothing to be done! Oh, I'm not a villain. I have no evil plan. I'm a businessman, acquiring assets. You happen to be one of them!"

While John continues to stare towards the helicopter, Sherlock and I turn our heads and look at our friend, and our gazes are penetrating and intense.

"Sorry. No chance for you to be heroes this time, Mr Holmes and Mr Shay." Magnussen said.

Sherlock and I looked away from John, lowering our gazes but still with a determined look on it. Magnussen turns away from him.

"Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, and Jared Shay, stand away from that man. Do it now." Mycroft said, his voice over the speaker.

"Oh, shut up!" I said, loudly, lifting my head. 

"And do your research." Sherlock said, loudly, lifting his head.

Sherlock steps closer to John, reaches round behind him and into John's coat pocket as I tossed the coin I held in my hand up into the air, then we step away again and we walk forward towards Magnussen.

"We're not heroes …" Sherlock said.

"I'm a fanboy." I said, sadly.

Magnussen turns to look at Sherlock and I.

"... and I'm a high-functioning sociopath." Sherlock said.

Sherlock widened his eyes as I smirked and we glared at Magnussen.

"Merry Christmas!" Sherlock said, angrily.

"And a Happy New Year!" I said, while Sherlock raises John's pistol, aims it at Magnussen's head, while I had my coin aimed at Magnussen's heart, Sherlock fires the gun and I fire one of Mikoto Misaka's signature Railguns using my ability. 

As John recoils and even before Magnussen hits the ground, Sherlock drops the gun and I drop the coin to the patio and we turn towards the helicopter, with the both of us raising our hands.

"Man down, man down." The police officer said, over the radio.

"Get away from us, John!" Sherlock said, loudly, as he and I turned to look at John. "Stay well back!"

"Christ, Sherlock, Jared!" John said, desperately raising his own hands.

"Stand fire!" Mycroft said, frantically, into his microphone and the police marksmen run towards the patio, aiming their rifles at Sherlock and I as we faced them. "Do not fire on Sherlock Holmes and Jared Shay! Do not fire!"

The marksmen take up positions, aiming their laser sights towards Sherlock and I.

"Oh, Christ, Sherlock, Jared." John said, frowning.

Keeping his hands raised, Sherlock looks round to him again.

"Give my love to Mary." Sherlock said.

"And give my love to Mary too." I said, letting out a sigh.

John stares at Sherlock and I, his face full of anguish.

"Tell her she's safe now." Sherlock said.

"Tell her she's safe from the clutches of Charles Agustus Magnussen. He won't be bothering her ever again." I said, as Sherlock and I took one final look at John and then turns towards the marksmen and the helicopter and we began to sink slowly to our knees. "I promise."

John holds his own hands high, his eyes full of despair. Sherlock and I kneel on the patio, our hands raised and both of our faces anguished. The beams from the laser sights travel over Sherlock's face and my face as we stare ahead of ourselves, knowing that we have done something from which no-one can save us.

Helicopter…

Mycroft takes off his headset and stares in equal despair towards his brother and I.

 "Oh, Sherlock, Jared. What have you done?" Mycroft asked, softly, anguished.

Mycroft can't see the adult Sherlock or the adult me on the patio. Instead, it's as if his little eleven year old brother is standing there with an eleven year old version of me, our faces full of terror as we stare upwards, our hands raised, Sherlock's curly hair and my short hair buffeted by the wind from the helicopter's rotor blades, and tears pouring down both of our face. The young boy and I lowered our heads, weeping.

(Open POV)

Large meeting room…

It is daytime and Mycroft stands at the glass wall of a large meeting room. He has his back to the room and is looking outside. A suited man stands nearby to his right.

"As my colleague is fond of remarking, this country sometimes needs a blunt instrument. Equally, it sometimes needs a dagger – a scalpel wielded with precision and without remorse." Mycroft said, looking to his left. "There will always come a time when we need Sherlock Holmes and Jared Shay."

Several men sitting at tables in the room look back at Mycroft silently but the man standing near him speaks.

"If this is some expression of familial sentiment …" Sir Edwin said.

Mycroft rolls his eyes, sighs and turns to him.

"Don't be absurd. I am not given to outbursts of brotherly compassion." Mycroft said, looking down for a moment, then turned to Sir Edwin again. "You know what happened to the other one." Sir Edwin looks away, grimacing slightly. Mycroft turns to look out the window again. "In any event, there is no prison in which we could incarcerate Sherlock and Jared without causing a riot on a daily basis. Incarcerating the President of the World would mean World War IV if an alien invasion happens. The alternative, however …" He looks left towards where Lady Smallwood is sitting at a table. "... would require your approval."

"Hardly merciful, Mr Holmes." Lady Smallwood said.

"Regrettably, Lady Smallwood, my brother and one of his best friends are murderers." Mycroft said, turning away and looking out of the window again.

AIRFIELD... 

It is daytime and a black car drives along the runway towards where an executive jet is stationary on the tarmac. Standing near the nose of the plane, Sherlock, Mycroft, Jared and a security man watch the car pull up. Mary gets out of the rear door nearest the plane and John from the other. Smiling, Mary walks towards Sherlock and Jared, John following behind.

"You will look after him for us, won't you?" Sherlock asked, looking at Mary.

"Oh …" Mary said, putting her hands on Sherlock's shoulders and they kiss each other's cheeks, then hug. "... don't worry. I'll keep him in trouble."

Sherlock smiles as Mary releases him and pulls back, "That's my girl."

"Mary, keep Clara safe for me." Jared said, walking up to Mary to hug her tightly. "She's my Impossible Girl. Keep her safe until Danny Pink comes around for her."

"Don't worry." Mary said, while Jared smiles and lets her go. "I'll make sure she continues to have adventures with the Doctor. With or without Danny Pink."

"Atta girl." Jared said, as Mary turns and walks back to where John has stopped a few paces away, and takes his hand. 

John nods to Sherlock and Jared in greeting, and Sherlock turns to his brother.

"Since this is likely to be the last conversation we'll have with John Watson …" Sherlock said, as John sighs painfully. "... would you mind if we took a moment?"

"Please. John is one of our best friends." Jared said, happily. "Give us this, Mycroft."

Mycroft looks a little startled, but then glances over to the security man and jerks his head towards the side of the plane. The security man, Mycroft and Mary walk along the side of the jet towards the wing and Sherlock and Jared turn to John, who smiles at him and nods.

"So, here we are." John said, looking vaguely around the airfield and clearing his throat, he steps closer.

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes." Sherlock said.

"Sorry?" John asked.

"That's the whole of it – if you're looking for baby names."

John chuckles, "No, we've had a scan. We're pretty sure it's a girl."

"Oh." Sherlock said, softly, smiling. "Okay."

"You should name her Rosamund." Jared said, smiling. "Rosie can be her nickname."

"Rosie." John said, sadly.

Sherlock, John, and Jared look awkwardly anywhere except at each other for several seconds.

"Yeah." John said, vaguely, turning and looking across the airfield before finally turning towards Sherlock and Jared again. "Actually, I can't think of a single thing to say. "

"No, neither can I." Sherlock said, looking down and lifting his head as John steps closer and speaks quietly.

"The game is over." 

"The game is never over, John …" Sherlock said, firmly, meeting John's eyes.

"The game is still on." Jared said, smirking. "The game will still be on."

"Jared's right…" Sherlock said, his tone becoming quieter. "... but there may be some new players now. It's okay. The East Wind takes us all in the end."

"What's that?" John asked.

"It's a story my brother told me when we were kids. The East Wind – this terrifying force that lays waste to all in its path." Sherlock said, sniffing, looking into the distance. "It seeks out the unworthy …" He meets John's eyes. "... and plucks them from the Earth. That was generally me."

"Nice!" John said, excitedly.

"He was a rubbish big brother." Sherlock said.

"Not as rubbish as facing some Daleks." Jared said, squeezing the strap of his sling bag.

Sherlock, John and Jared smile, then the army doctor looks down, clearing his throat.

"So what about the two of you, then?" John asked, lifting his head. "Where are you both actually going now?"

"Oh, some undercover work in Eastern Europe." Sherlock said, sounding bored.

"Eastern Europe. Bit boring compared to Western Europe." Jared said, laughing a lot.

 "For how long?" John asked.

"Six months, my brother estimates. He's never wrong." Sherlock said, looking slightly above John's head so as not to meet his eyes.

"And then what?" John asked.

Sherlock meets John's gaze for a moment, then looks down thoughtfully before raising his head and gazing off into the distance. 

Sherlock shrugs, "Who knows?"

"For me, I was thinking of having adventures with the Doctor and Clara again." Jared said, looking at John. "Maybe spend time with Team RWBY in Vacuo."

"Spending time with your family." John said, nodding, and then turned away to look across the airfield again, breathing in deeply. "That's nice."

Sherlock looks directly at John until he turns back, then looks down again.

"John, there's something ... I should say; I-I've meant to say always and then never have. Since it's unlikely we'll ever meet again, I might as well say it now." Sherlock said, hesitating for a long time, then draws in a deep breath and raises his eyes to John's. "Sherlock is actually a girl's name."

John turns away, giggling almost silently. Sherlock smiles at him. 

John turns back, still smiling, "It's not."

"It was worth a try." Sherlock said, shrugging.

"We're not naming our daughter after you." John said.

"I think it could work." 

John chuckles, then meets Sherlock's and Jared's eyes. Sherlock and Jared hold their gaze for a second, then the two lower their eyes. After a moment, Sherlock takes off his right glove and holds out his hand.

"To the very best of times, John." Sherlock said.

John hesitates for a long while, then he finally takes Sherlock's hand and shakes it. They stand there for a couple of seconds, then Sherlock gives John's hand one more small pump before releasing it and turning away, putting his glove back on. 

"Thanks for everything, John." Jared said, walking towards John to give him a hug before letting go. "It was fun while it lasted."

Sherlock and Jared walked away together. John watches Sherlock and Jared walk along the side of the plane to the steps and get on board.

Shortly afterward the plane taxies along the runway. Sherlock and Jared sit inside looking out of one of the right-hand windows. Mary and John stand by the car, holding hands and watching from the left-hand side of the plane as it lifts into the sky. Sherlock and Jared continue to gaze out of the window, and the plane flies off into the distance.

The scene fades to black and the familiar drum beat of the beginning of the show's theme tune begins ...

... but before the actual music can start, the screen goes to static. 

Pub…

After a moment it resolves into a football match on the SPORTS 1 channel. The score shows SFC 0 – 0 INTER. Men's voices can be heard shouting encouragingly as the commentary plays over the footage.

"Smith brings it inside. This looks good." A commentator said, on the TV.

The screen fritzes briefly, then the perspective pulls back a little and we see that this is a television on the wall inside a pub.

 "Cassandra comes in for a shot …" The commentator said, on the TV.

On the TV, a player volleys the ball towards the goal but it flies over the top. In the pub, the customers groan.

 "Oh, he missed it!" The commentator said, on the TV.

One of the customers is Greg Lestrade, who is standing at the bar. He grimaces. The TV can be heard fritzing again and one of the male customers calls out, presumably to the landlord.

 "Oi! What's up with the telly? There's something wrong with the telly, mate!" A customer yelled.

The TV can be heard fritzing even more.

"Give it a whack, then!" Another customer said, angrily.

Greg looks up at the screen, which has gone to static, but it slowly begins to clear and a shape can just about be seen through all the distortion. It seems to be a head and shoulders shot of someone facing to the right with their head turned away from the camera. Greg stares up at the TV and, although we can no longer see the screen, presumably the picture is becoming clearer. Greg's face fills with shock.

 "Who's that?" A customer asked.

Over the TV a voice begins to speak. It is speaking through a device which distorts the voice.

 "Did you miss me?" A voice asked, high pitched, before shifting to a very deep tone. "Did you miss me?"

221B…

Mrs Hudson is vacuuming the living room. She has the TV switched on and the voice comes over the speaker.

 "Did you miss me? Did you miss me?" The voice asked, pitched high.

Mrs Hudson looks at the screen – and jumps in shock, then starts to scream.

Bart's…

Molly stares in horror from the lab into a room next door which has a TV playing on a table.

 "Did you miss me?" The voice asked, pitched deep.

Conference room…

Lady Smallwood stares up from her seat, apparently looking at the TV screen, "How is this possible?"

"We don't know, but it's on every screen in the country – every screen simultaneously." Sir Edwin said, standing beside Lady Smallwood, also looking at the screen.

"Has the Prime Minister been told?" Lady Smallwood asked, looking round and up to Sir Edwin. "And Mycroft?"

Stationary car…

"But that's not possible." Mycroft said, sitting in the back seat of a stationary car and talking into a phone, before opening the door and gets out. "That is simply not possible."

Mycroft looks across to where John and Mary, holding hands and clearly still at the airfield, look towards him. He frowns at them.

"What's happened?" John asked, releasing Mary's hand and walking towards him.

Executive jet…

Sherlock and Jared are still looking out of the window.

"Gentlemen?" A man asked, nearby.

Sherlock and Jared looks round. 

The man holds out a phone towards Sherlock, "It's your brother."

Sherlock takes the phone and puts it to speaker mode.

"Mycroft?" Sherlock asked.

"Hello, little brother. How is the exile going with Jared?" Mycroft asked, his voice over the phone.

"We've only been gone four minutes."

"We really have." Jared said, sadly. "What's up?"

"Well, I certainly hope the both of you have learned your lesson. As it turns out, you two are needed." Mycroft said, now sitting in the back of his car again, and smiling pleasantly.

"Oh, for God's sake. Make up your mind. Who needs us this time?" Sherlock asked.

Mycroft's car…

The distorted voice can be heard.

 "Did you miss me? Did you miss me?" The voice asked, pitched high.

Mycroft looks to the front of the car where a small TV screen is set into the dashboard. On the screen is a still photograph of Jim Moriarty facing the camera and smiling. To the left of his mouth is the message:

MISS ME?

The jaw of Jim's photograph has been animated so that it moves up and down a little as the voice repeats over and over.

"Did you miss me? Did you miss me?" The voice asked, pitched high.

Piccadilly Circus in London…

The huge screens above the street are each filled with the same part-animated image of Jim's smiling face with the message beside it, and the voice plays over speakers.

"Did you miss me? Did you miss me?" The voice asked, pitched high, and a view from a high vantage point shows the city of London while the voice plays on. "Did you miss me? Did you miss me?"

Back of the car…

As the voice plays on, Mycroft speaks a single word into his phone in response to Sherlock's question.

"England." Mycroft said, with a somewhat exasperated sigh in his voice.

Outside the car…

Mary looks at John, "But he's dead. I mean, you told me he was dead, Moriarty."

"Absolutely. He blew his own brains out." John said.

"So how can he be back?" Mary asked.

"Well, if he is …" John said, turning and looking to his right. "…he'd better wrap up warm." Mary turns to follow John's gaze. "There's an East Wind coming."

John and Mary watch as Sherlock and Jared's plane comes in to land.

The familiar drum beat starts up again and this time the theme tune follows and the closing credits roll to the end.

And then ...

As the Hartswood, BBC and Masterpiece logos fade, Jim Moriarty, now no longer animated but live and standing facing the right, looks towards the camera straight-faced and speaks in his normal voice.

"Miss me?" Jim asked.